Dead to us All (Lady Knives, Kiriyama)

Rain beat down from the heavens, its wetness causing many a person to seek shelter in the crooked dwellings that people called homes. The slight drizzle steadily intensified, its concentrated downpour soaking through the skin and chilling the bone. In a matter of minutes, the streets of the city had been cleared. No-one walked the streets in that kind of weather. Except Kric.

Sticking to the main road, the alchemist paid little attention to the heavy rain that was seeping into his leather coat. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind getting soaked, it was more that he didn’t care. He could’ve been beaten across the face, and he would’ve just kept on walking. It was as if he had lost the will to live. His steps trailed along the ground, kicking up water occasionally. Eventually, he stopped outside what appeared to be a run-down mill, but a sign to his left told him otherwise. A picture of a heart, impaled on a silver dagger and covered in blood, loomed out at him. Below the sordid picture, the words ‘The Dead Heart’ were written in crimson spindly letters. Pushing forward through the doors, the alchemist was instantaneously greeted with the smell of rum and smoke. Both which he detested.

Bringing up a metallic hand, he moved forward through the haze of smoke that filled the air and headed for the bar. As he sat down heavily on a wooden barstool, his eyes were drawn immediately to the bartender who was cleaning a cup with a rag.

“I’m here to see Kaden about the heart.”

“I guessed. When was the last time anyone came in here for a drink? Never, that’s when,” the bartender grunted. Spitting over his shoulder, he gestured to the open end of the bar. Jumping off the stool, Kric made his way around the bar, deliberately stepping over the floor where he had seen the bartender spit. Walking nonchalantly through the darkened hallway behind the bar, he immediately found he was not alone in his transactions. Others were talking around him, selling their less than legal wares. Kric doubted that half of what they were selling was even authentic. Stopping around the middle of the darkened room, his eyes were caught by one man in particular to his left. His small demeanor made him seam rather harmless, but the amount of dangerous looking items that were laid out in front of him told Kric otherwise.

“Ah, perhaps you are the alchemist who has something to sell me.”

Nodding his head, Kric began to roll up the sleeve of his left arm, exposing the newly attached piece of machinery that was automail. It had a dull sheen to it, as if it didn’t want the world to notice it. And though it had only been made a few weeks ago, the metal was hardened already, the limb customized to Kric’s needs. Laying a finger on one part of the mechanical limb, he pushed down. In the same instance, another part of the limb popped open, revealing something that looked reminiscent of a piece of leather. Pulling it out into the open air, Kric held it in front of Kaden’s eyes.

“The Heart of Rize, the Dark God of Bones. Looks like you’ve got something worth trading, alchemist.”

OOC: Once the transaction between Kric and Kaden has finished in my next post, we can start the true acceptance. I just needed to think up someplace good for it to happen. And sorry for the less than terrific name.

A cloaked figure, clad in all black strode through the otherwise impeding darkness; the brilliance of the moon shrouded in caliginosity. The surrounding area was empty, no human to be found. Large drops of rain beat down upon the large hood of the young woman's cloak, not a hint of emotion in her expression.

A child of the night you, quite, are. A smooth, sultry voice echoed at the back of her mind, causing a snarl to ravish the young woman's pale, dry lips.

The faint, mocking laugh lingered in her mind for a while as she continued to walk, before fading away. What a burden it was, that second soul. Why was she born with it? Why hadn't Sasu been bound with it instead? Keeping her head lowered, a sign caught her gaze and she slowed to a stop by a large wooden door, bound at the top and bottom by iron strips. Even from here she could smell humans; the scent of their foul tobacco, as well as their alcoholic beverages. She drew the back of her hand up to her nose, feeling it to be cold. Her pointed ears were also cold, proving that she needed some warmth. This place would do.

She could hear the faint chatter and murmurings of the humans inside, and wrapped her clawed fingers around the handle of the door; twisting it and opening, almost slamming the door open in her wake. At the loud noise, the humans stopped what they were doing for a moment, gazing at the stranger in the doorway. Not bothering to acknowledge any of the filthy humans within the room, she began to walk with grace up to the bar, her cloak billowing behind her in an almost celestial manner. As she walked, the silken cloak revealed her midriff, in which the halves of two arrows were buried. There was also a broken off arrow within her arm, two in her back, and one dug into her left shin.

A few of the surrounding humans grimaced at the sight, but Knives seemed to take no mind to it, taking a seat at the bar.

Her clothes were ripped in various places, her pale skin showing through. She needed to bathe. She figured once the rain let off a bit, she'd go and find a hot spring.

Never having been in this area, she wasn't familiar to all the scents, and it made her light-headed; causing her to lower her head a bit more. After a few moments had passed, the stinging of her sensitive nostrils and the light-headedness had faded, but had not fully gone away.

The cool wood of the thick pillar behind her served as something to rest upon, her lithe form and bloodied midriff being shown as her cloak slipped aside. Something was noticed by a few of the humans around that made them uneasy. The blood was not normal, it was black. Though dried, any others blood would still hold its dark red color, however, this woman's did not.

'Three shots of vodka, a small bowl of grapes, and a glass of blood wine.' the young woman gazed at the bartender, her slitted pupils dilating to the poorly lit atmosphere of the tavern. The robust man's eyes widened.

But her lips hadn't moved! How could I have heard her? Her eyes, they weren't normal. Why would she want so much alcohol!? She's a woman! What is she? Questions such as this frantically shot through the man's mind as he almost immediately went to work with fetching her what she so desired, in fear of his life for some odd reason.

Her luscious, pale lips were pulled back in a vixen-smile, her pearly white fangs now visible to the bartender as she once more lowered her head, the cresant moon earring upon her left ear jingling as she did so. She was satisfied in hearing the faint ‘Ting!’ and thumping of glasses upon the bar before her, the smirk fading into the ghost of a smile. The corners of her lips were upturned only the faintest bit.

Reaching out to the bowl of deep red grapes, she plucked one from the entanglement of awkward-looking stems, bringing it up to her lips in all slowness. She slowly pressed it against her lips, letting them part, and the grape fall against her right canine, which was dangerously sharp, glistening in what light made its way into her heavy cloak. She let the grape be pierced into by the tip of her fang, then fully bit down onto it, her lips closing as she tasted the bittersweet nectar of the grape. Oh how long she had gone without such tantalizing nourishment.

“So, another god has fallen.”

“Yes sir, and traces of blood from his castle show that he was weakened by a virus similar to the one that slayed your excellency.”

Dante nodded, slowly, taking in the information. If the virus was still around, it may be possible to duplicate it. Under Grasthos’ blueprints, and his own knowledge, he’d be able to create a virus specifically targeted towards destroying beings made of Tainted Element.

“Such a weapon would come in handy,” the former god thought, his head resting on his fist. “I could destroy the Horrors, as well as Toka and his lackeys. After that, I could finally…”

“Sir!” Jeorrod suddenly shouted, wrenching Dante from his thoughts. The domerri placed a note on the neo-echo’s desk. “It’s from one of your contacts sir, it says that an alchemist just arrived at a flea market-tavern combination called ‘The Dead Heart’, bearing the heart of Rize!”

Dante rose from his chair with such quickness that he awoke the sleeping form of Frank, who promptly leapt into the ceiling. Without a word, the Oblivion King charged out of the room. The god’s heart could still have a trace of the virus in it. If so, it would be far more valuable than an infected vial of blood.

He slammed open a door at the far end of the hallway, completely ignoring the fact that both Jeorrod and Frank were begging to know what he was doing. Neither of them knew that the Dead Heart was only twenty miles away.

Such a distance would seem far, but in reality it was fairly close. All the neo-echo needed to do to reach the Dead Heart before the alchemist left was to propel himself towards it using the wind element in the surrounding air.

He’d be there in just a few minutes…

“The organ seems new, as if it was taken from Rize’s body only weeks ago.”

“It was. The bastard killed my love, this was his reward.” At the remembrance of what happened, Kric shivered slightly. Pawing at the heart like some stray dog, Kaden let his gaze fall over every part of it, as if trying and failing to find some flaw with the mummified organ.

“This thing could be of use to me. I have a person who’s been bothering me for a sort of organ that would aid him in some way. I’ll give you anything you want for it,” the tiny man said hurriedly. A grim smile passed the alchemists lips for a brief moment, and he reclaimed the heart with his right hand.

“I didn’t come to sell it, I came to appraise it incase I wanted to get rid of it,” Kric muttered. Returning the heart to its place in his arm, he stood up.

“Good day, Mr. Kaden. If I do sell the heart, you’ll be the first person I contact.” Making a hurried bow, he turned round and walked towards the exit. But before he could even take three steps, Kric slammed into the solid chest of a man at least twice his size.

“Excuse me, I need to get past,” the alchemist mumbled, side stepping as to pass by. The man however, didn’t allow it. He moved again, blocking Kric’s only way out.

“Now, now. You didn’t really think that I was just going to let an item like that pass over my head. I really couldn’t let you leave with it,” Kaden spoke. Each syllable dripped with an oily malice. Kaden obviously thought that he had the upper hand… for the moment.

“You’re such an idiot, Kaden. I don’t have time for this, places to go, people to see,” Kric sighed. Without one drop of fear in his eyes, the alchemist clapped both hands onto the brute’s chest in front of him.

“I advise you to not anger my large friend, alchemist. His tolerance, as well as his brain capacity, for annoying people is incredibly low,” the small seller snickered. Rolling his eyes with obvious abhorrence to what was being said, Kric simply looked up at the snarling face of the man whose chest his hands were laid on. Raising a clenched hand above his head, the man made to strike the small form touching him. Moving his fist in the general direction of Kric’s face, the man let out a yell of irritation. The noise died in his throat, and was replaced by a primal groan. Sticking into his chest were five razor shaped diamonds, protruding from Kric’s right hand fingers. A small dagger stuck into him from the left hand. Slumping to the floor in a small pool of his blood, the man didn’t move again.

“I can do worse than just stab you in your heart, Kaden. If you send anyone after me, you’ll be the one who finds out what they are.” Sheathing his hidden weapons, Kric stepped over the corpse and walked out of the antechamber, bloody footprints being left behind him. Upon seeing him, the bartender nodded.

“You’re a quick one for business. Did you just drop something off?”

“None of your business, old timer. Just serve me whatever you’ve got in this dump,” Kric grunted. Dropping heavily into a leather cushioned seat, he moaned inwardly at the set of bloody footprints that had been left behind him.

Intimidation tactics. Oh how she loved playing mind games with humans. They could not even begin to comprehend her strength; it made her smile inwardly.

Knives let her pale, slender fingers deftly curl around one of the three shot glasses filled to the brim with the clear alcohol known as vodka. She then lifted the small glass to her lips, downing the first shot without a single out of place facial expression, not even a sour face. Plucking two more grapes from the bowl, she popped them into her mouth, squishing them with her tongue and enjoying the bittersweet taste of the fruit. She then slid the glass back onto the counter, taking and downing the other shot, followed by the last. It didn’t seem to faze her whatsoever, and the bartender was extremely impressed. The young heiress let her dark eyes flutter closed, but one back open as she felt tenseness in the air.

“Hmm…” she cooed softly, her eyes opening fully as she glanced forward to the space beyond the bar. ‘That man is no normal human.’ She thought to herself, letting her boot slide upon the edge of the bar.

A delicately sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity at the object of focus. ‘The heart of a God…’ she pondered, gazing forward still, as if trying to somehow see through the walls. After a few tense words were exchanged, one of the men were soon reduced to pile of useless flesh upon the ground, a large 'THUMP!' being heard as this happened. Knives rolled her eyes at this. ‘How pitiful.’

‘So he’s an alchemist, eh?’ Her eyes traced the young man’s movements as he emerged from behind the bar, taking a seat in a chair not too far away from her.

The scent of blood wafted in the air as it made her lightheaded, she could see the footprints of blood in the man's trail. She held herself back, feeling the beast within stirring at the scent of mortal lifeblood.

After the Alchemist had had a little conversation with the robust bartender, she decided to mess with the stern server. Slowly reaching over to grab another grape, the bartender’s eyes traced up from the movement of her arm to her eyes. Her eyes glinted with a cruel sort of amusement as she flicked the grape in her fingers with such inhuman speed that it left a welt on the bartender’s uncovered arm. He yelped as he brought his hand to his arm, his eyebrows furrowing in confusing as he looked from Kric, back to Knives.

She gazed away, taking a few more grapes and gently pushing them into her mouth.

Shaking his head, the bartender snapped out of his slight shock, and prepared Kric a mug filled with freshly brewed Rum, so fresh that it foamed over the side of the large glass.

There was a smirk upon Knives’ lips. She loved to watch human reactions. They felt so violently, while she felt so little. Her dark eyes traveled to a table where a few humans were gambling. They either had on their poker faces, or they looked angry, some even surprised.

Knives then gracefully drew her hand up, letting her fingers wrap around the thin handle of the wine glass. She then brought the glass to her lips, letting some of the alcohol escape into her bloodstream as she drank of the wine. It gave her a pleasant feeling. ‘Mmm...About that bath.’ She thought to herself as she closed her eyes, fidgeting her foot a little to get a better grip on the edge of the bar. ‘After I’m done with my drink, surely.’

You might have some visitors while you’re out. The smooth and sultry voice reminded her as the young demoness let a soft, almost inaudible hiss escape her lips.

She shook off the voice, pushing it to the back of her mind in frustration as she took a large drink from the glass. Her gaze was averted to the Alchemist once more, her eyes discreetly tracing his seemingly stern facial features. 'Handsome no doubt...' her eyebrows raised as she thought this, her tongue running across her lips. 'I can tell already that i'm going to have to feed tonight. This is such a pain.' she leaned her back against the pillar a bit harshly, only to let off a bit as she heard it crack. She didn't seem to know her own strength at the moment.

“Here I am,” Dante thought, standing on the outskirts of the town. He didn’t pay any notice to the downpour that washed over him, nor did he pay heed to the fact that the cobbled streets had at least two inches of water covering them, soaking through his boots.

“Now,” he thought, pulling a wet mass of dark hair from his eyes. “Where is the Dead Heart?”

Preferring not to take a while to find the tavern for fear that Rize’s heart had already been sold, Dante made his way to the nearest house. From inside its cracked and dirty windows a comforting light glowed, signaling that this ****hole was indeed occupied.

The neo-echo rapped the oak door with his knuckles, careful not to hit so hard as to splinter the door. After a few seconds a portly man with a waist-length beard answered the door. In one hand he carried a bottle of vodka, Dante’s personal favorite alcohol, and in the other hand he carried, though he attempted to hide it behind his back, a dagger.

“What d’ya want stranger?” the man asked. Dante wasn’t surprised that the smell of alcohol was strong in this man’s breath. Before the neo-echo even replied, the portly man decided to continue. “If ye’s lookin fer the Dead Heart, it’s thataway!”

The man, rather sloppily, brought his vodka wielding hand upwards rather slowly. Once his arm was a good two feet above his head, the man slowly extended his ring finger, afraid to lose the grip on his alcohol.

“How did you know that I was looking for the Dead Heart?” Dante asked, raising an eyebrow. “What if I was here for a nice chat and a smidgen of vodka?”

The portly man shook his head back and forth with such force that his second chin flailed back and forth, swatting raindrops out of the air like flies. “Nobody comes ta this town ‘cept for peoples looking for the Dead Heart. I hears they sell lots of rare stuffs there.”

Dante nodded in thanks, and turned to leave. Before he even made it off the doorstep, however, the Oblivion Overlord was stricken with the urge to ask a question. He turned back to the portly man and pointed a dark finger at his hidden weapon.

“What’s with the dagger?” he asked. The large man, in response, simply slammed his door. As Dante left the man’s doorstep he thought he heard the fat man mumbling, “Nobody gonna steal this man’s vodka again.”

~

It didn’t take Dante long to find the Dead Heart. Not surprisingly, it seemed to be in just as bad a condition on the outside as the other houses on the street. The neo-echo, opting for a quick and quiet entry, opened the door fairly slowly, slipping in once it was big enough for him to do so.

The inside wasn’t quite what he’d thought, though it was still fairly run down. It seemed as if there’d been a recent fight, as there were several spots on the floor that were soaked in blood. Dante quickly made his way to the bar.

“I’ll take a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of red wine to go with it.” Dante said.

Blood began to drip gradually from the tips of Kric’s right hand fingers, the razors had taken in quite a lot of the man’s blood when they had been withdrawn so hurriedly. The slit in the palm of his left hand was doing likewise. Even so, the crimson fluid went unnoticed by the alchemist, as his thoughts were elsewhere. As if fate wanted to bring his thoughts back down to earth, Kric winced slightly as something clipped his ear, leaving a red mark in its wake. Raising a hand to make sure that it wasn’t bleeding, his gaze focused on where the thing had come from, the bartender. He was holding his arm in one hand, while looking at him and another customer with a confused look on his face.

How long does it take to make a drink in this place?

His mental question was soon answered, as the bartender filled a cup with what seemed to be rum and set it down in front of him. Letting the old man walk away before he moved to pick up his drink, he stopped before the glass was at his lips. Instinct was telling him that someone was watching his every move. Slyly tracing his gaze up past the bartender, he turned his head around. No one seemed to be looking in his direction, but then again, half of the people in here were completely drunk. Sighing inwardly, Kric’s gaze left itself on a person to his right. Dressed in a complete black assemble, apart from the red striped obi tied around her waist, was a stark contradiction to her incredibly pale skin tone, and with hair that reached the small of her back. Her facial features, though partially obscured by the glass in her hand, were softly curved and elegant. True beauty.

Quickly turning his attention back towards his cup, the alchemist felt his cheeks redden. Had he felt something for the woman? Lust, or love? Like before, his thoughts were interrupted as the door of the bar opened.

Ooc: Sorry about the shortness.

As the door opened and another person entered the pub, Knives gazed out of the door, watching the rain splatter in from outside. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, leaning back into the pillar once more, but not putting as much pressure on it as she had before. She would rest a bit for now, and enjoy the downtime she had. Knowing those Demon Hunters would find her sooner or later; she began to think about her plans. She heard the shuffling boots of people as they got up to walk to the bar and request another drink, and the opening and closing of the heavy door as people came in and left.

Her oxygenated blood-colored eyes opened as she felt a pair of eyes on her; the alchemists'. Turning her head the slightest bit, her features were outlined by the dim yellow light which only lit up the room a tad bit, making all the features on the faces from around the pub hard to distinguish.

Feeling the slight embaressment, then confusion in the human's aura, she half-smiled. He was thinking not-so-proper thoughts perhaps? Thoughts that maybe he was denying? Not that she cared, he was just a human. Maybe a human that had more strength than normal, but a mortal nonetheless. A soft sigh escaped the young woman's lips as she sat up in the chair, slipping her leg around the stool and facing the front. She wouldn't let her mind wander, she had things to do and people to evade.

"Hn..." she cooed softly, picking up the wine glass and downing the remaining dark crimson contents. She then popped a few more grapes into her mouth before removing a black silken pouch from one of the inside pockets of her cloak, pouring its contents onto the bar counter. It was pure gold. The precious metal glimmered in the dullness of the room, catching what like it could.

"Holy Mother of Heaven..." the bartender exclaimed as he gathered the semi-large pile of gold into his grubby hands, a look of disbelief upon his face. "How did you get this?" he asked in somewhat of a wavering tone.

"That is for me to know, and for you to find out." she flashed him a charming, vixen smile before turning on her heel and heading towards the door. She needed a bath, whether it was raining or not.

She passed the Alchemist, not stopping, but glancing for a split second in his direction before her deft hand came into contact with the large metal ring that seemed to be the knob of this door. She pulled it open, gazing back once more as her eyes glinted with amusement, before she turned her head. Tugging the door open, she gained the attention of a few people around her, who perked up their heads and gazed in her direction, only to see her gone before they could catch a glance.

Dante took a sip of his vodka, regarding the alchemist with his yellow eyes. It was fairly obvious that his arms were artificial, something called ‘Automail’, from the distant country of Amestris. He knew they had more advanced weapons, but until now had been skeptical on whether they could create working mechanical limbs.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched a beautiful girl leave the bar. The neo-echo noted to himself the fact that the girl didn’t exactly have a human aura about her. Of course, the girl wasn’t the reason why he was here.

“Where’s the heart?” he thought to himself, downing the last of his clear liquor. It was likely that the alchemist had it, but Dante doubted it. How could an alchemist kill the one that had originally shown humans how to use alchemy in the first place?

Dante sighed and shook his head solemnly. “Then again, anything’s possible these days.”

He cracked open his wine and took a sip of it, letting the crimson liquor settle onto his tongue before tilting his head back and swallowing. The alchemist would be as likely a person as any. Dante waved the bartender over and, scratching the back of his head the whole time, inquired on the alchemist.

“Well,” the bartender said, his eyes darting towards the alchemist for a moment. “I think he came here to sell something. Judging by the blood though, I don’t think the sale went well. Why do you care?”

“Because I do,” Dante replied, rising from his stool. Now he had the heart’s location, all he needed was to obtain it from the alchemist, or at least get a tissue sample from it. He abruptly rose from his stool, oblivious to the drunken moron behind him.

As he stood, Dante accidentally bumped into the drunk man and caused him to drop his liquor. The neo-echo frowned at the sound of glass shattering, quickly followed by angry drunken rambling. He’d seen this situation way too many times, and he was sick of it.

One person knocks over another’s drink, the second one gets pissed and soon the entire bar is a battleground. Dante decided that it would be best to get to the alchemist and leave, avoiding the brawl. That would, unfortunately, be impossible to accomplish.

“Hey, ya arsehole!” the drunk shouted, grabbing Dante’s shoulder and turning him around. “I was ****ing talking ‘at you! You don’t be walking away when I’m sh-sh-speaking!”

The man drew back his fist, making a huge mistake. Before his fist even started on its pilgrimage to the neo-echo’s face, Dante grabbed, and snapped, the hand that was currently on his shoulder. The drunk’s hollers of pain attracted unwanted attention, however.

OOC: Sorry for crappiness.

At the sound of the drunk’s pained yell, Kric’s attention was immediately diverted from the door where the mysterious woman had disappeared through. A man was holding another man’s hand, but from the looks of it, he had snapped it at the wrist, for the appendage was slowly going chalk white. The man’s face was following suit.

“Three, two, one,” Kric mumbled under his breath. At the count of one, two men sprung up, flanking the injured man. They were both built similar to brick walls, and probably as smart. And, from the rosy color of their faces, they were drunk. The attacker, who didn’t seem phased in the slightest, turned his full attention to the three. It disgusted the alchemist how quickly a fight could start out of something so trivial. Mumbling a curse under his breath, he quickly fished several coins out of his overcoat, slapped them on the bar next to his half full cup, and made for the door. Rain or no rain, he didn’t want to be in the way when bar stools started getting thrown about.

Now, where’d she go?

Pulling up his collar to overlap his ears as rain began to soak his thin frame once more, he caught a single glimpse of a dark figure making its way down a street far to his right, before it disappeared completely.

Gotcha’.

He quickly made his way down the row of rickety buildings, sticking to walking under the overhanging of nearby buildings as to try and stay dry, though it did little good. The overhanging was mostly rotten wood, riddled with termite holes. Thoughts were popping into his head, mad thoughts. It was insane, to think that someone like her would ever go for him.

Forgotten about Eiro already, have you?

That tiny voice in the back of his jolted him back into reality. Memories came back. The castle. The fight. The transmutation.

There’s no point in grieving forever…

He dislodged water from his head with a shake, and hurried down the street.

As the rain fell timelessly, the young heiress continued her way through it; feeling it splatter upon her large, loose hood. Her hair was soaked, some of the ebony strands sticking to the sides of her pale face. Each stride she took was medium paced, each step filled with prodigious elegance. The heavy, silken cloak which was draped over her shoulders billowed behind her in a celestial manner, the rain splattering on the calves of her pants as she gently stepped through puddles. She was heading toward a nearby hot spring, remembering that she had stopped there a few days earlier. The restless demoness was anticipating the feeling of the warm water against her skin, washing away all the filth that flawed her. Smiling the faintest bit, Knives let her mind slip away in the pleasant vision.

Continuing on, she snapped out of it, remembering she had to remove all the broken off arrows. ‘What a pain it is…’ she sighed softly, arching her back as a cold wind swept up the back of her cloak and enveloped her body.

She quickened her pace, her mind focused only on bathing, so consumed in it that she did not notice she was being followed.

Soon enough, she entered the forest through the worn, light-brown trail through the center. The trail was diverged in this dark wood, and she took to the right, following it down until she stole through a space between a bush and a large oak tree. Half-smiling, she could already feel the steam from the hot spring as it emanated towards her from the large naturally formed structure of rocks.

Raising her arms above her head, her hood fell down in reaction, her hair falling out and cascading down over her shoulders. A few drops of water streamed down from her forehead and temples, causing her to draw her hand up and brush them away. ‘Finally, some relaxation…’ She smiled inwardly. ‘No hunters, no humans, demons, nothing.’ Resting her arms behind her head, she walked slowly towards the hot spring, feeling the heat cutting through the cold and hitting against her face. She could see the waves of steam being blown around from behind the rocks, a smile gracing her pale lips as she came closer.

Knives gripped her cloak with her right hand and tugged it off over her head as she rounded the corner, Goosebumps plaguing her fair skin as she shivered. The large pool of steaming water came into view, and the pleasant smile upon her lips widened as she gently bit her lip. She bent over and unfastened her boots, kicking them off and slipping off her socks. She then untied her obi, tossing it off on a nearby rocks and letting her pants fall. She also set them aside on the rock which she had formerly set her cloak on and stretched her right leg a bit.

After disrobing completely, she slipped into the hot spring, walking slowly through the scolding water until it covered her almost up to her chest. Clenching her teeth gently, she could feel the water squeeze itself beside the splintering wood of the arrows into the deep wounds in her lower back.

Closing her eyes, she focused her energy on the wounds, having the arrows shoot out from her back and stab into the surrounding oak trees. Feeling the blood begin to stream from the wounds, she dunked underneath the water, feeling as her wounds began to heal slowly but surely. The heiress arched her back as the cold drops of rain hit her skin, making her slightly uncomfortable. Furrowing her eyebrows, she moved to a rock where she could lounge, the heat overpowering the bitter cold of the icey air.

She took the time to gather her thoughts, trying to think of where she would go and what she had to do next; smothered in the bliss that was relaxation.

“You’re going to pay fer that stranger,” one of the men said, picking up his stool. The other man didn’t need to use his stool, having already drawn a dagger from his cloak. Dante wasn’t paying attention to any of this. His focus was instead on the sound of the door closing.

He hoped that the alchemist hadn’t left. If he had left it would be hard to find him, and there was the chance that he’d have allies helping him if the neo-echo had to take the heart by force. Kaja would have to finish this quick.

Dante shoved the injured man into his friends with one hand while grabbing his bottle of wine with the other. The man with the stool would be the first to strike and the first to get beaten. He charged the neo-echo only to have the bottle of liquor smashed over his head.

Unconscious, he slumped to the ground. Despite seeing his friend knocked out, the man with the dagger attacked. Ignoring the bladed weapon Dante grabbed the man by the throat and with little effort choke slammed him onto the counter.

By now the entire bar was starting to rise and cause chaos. The echo would have found it entertaining if he wasn’t busy, especially when four men playing poker started to throw poker chips at each other. He needed to find the alchemist though, and swiftly left the bar.

The instant he left the drinking establishment Dante was struck by the sudden change in temperature. Inside the bar it had been warm and dry, while out here he was cold and quickly getting sopping wet. He generated a black umbrella, with a knife on the tip of course, and held it over his head to avoid getting further wet.

Ignoring the sounds of pain and violence emanating from the bar Kaja’s yellow eyes darted from one end of the street to the other. The alchemist had already moved on to another street without leaving the slightest proof that he’d ever been on this one.

“Damn,” Dante mumbled, wiping his hair back with his free hand. “This is just what I needed.”

This is stupid. She’s not going to think the same about you. She’ll probably just think you’re a pervert.

The alchemist brushed a stray branch out of his path, his eyes fixed on the footprints that were slowly being eroded by the rain. The woman had left her tracks in plain sight, as if she didn’t care that someone could have easily followed her.

Or she knows that you were following her, and she’s setting a trap of some sort. She could be working for Kaden.

The voice was beginning to annoy the alchemist. It was trying to cling the memory of Eiro, even if she was gone. Those times were over. Kric had to look to the future. And, hopefully, this woman would be his future. The tracks ended abruptly, turning to the side of the track. Hot air emanated from that direction, the source unknown to the human.

She’ll hear you approach.

Taking the words into consideration, Kric make a split second decision. Clapping his hands together, the alchemist watched as hundreds of tiny spikes crept up along his fingers and palms. Silently walking towards the nearest tree, he punched a hand into it, which stuck fast. Repeating the action with his other hand, the blonde haired rogue started his ascent up the tree, stopping as he reached the topmost boughs. From his new vantage point, the alchemist could see partially in every direction, some parts being blocked by other more leafy trees. However, a few meters to his right, steam billowed out from the trees. The source was unfortunately blocked from sight by another tree. Sighing, Kric took a step back and pelted forward, aiming for the nearest tree. His fingers scrabbled over branches and leaves before stopping, embedded in the bark. Pulling himself up, the alchemist gazed down. This tree was set directly next to the source of the steam; a hot spring. It must’ve been made naturally, due to the appearance of the formation of the rocks. But all this meant nothing to Kric, his attention was focused on the being bathing in the water.

I can’t believe this. If she sees you, your in so much trouble it’ll be untrue.

Shushing the voice to the back of his mind, the blonde watched as the woman moved to one corner of the pool, to a rock. Cursing under his breath as she disappeared from his view because of the low hanging branches below him, he slid forward. Instantly, he cursed his decision. A crack like a whip made him turn round. The base of the branch was cracking.

“Oh, sh-t.”

With those words, the limb broke off the tree, sending Kric falling into the spring below.

I guess my warnings didn’t get through.

Dark eyes snapped open at the sound of a cracking branch, then a large splash. A faint frown graced her pale lips as young Knives shuffled her shoulders, leaning back more into the rock. She did not wish to investigate this, and continued to relax, her mind not being able to focus on anything but the new energy signal she found in the spring. Sighing harshly, Knives arched her back, slipping back down into the water and peeking around the corner of the rock, her back flat against the smooth surface of the worn rock.

She began to focus on the new aura, a smirk almost immediately gracing her lips as she recognized it. 'The Alchemist...' She mused inwardly in an almost frisky tone. Running her tongue across her teeth she sunk more into the water, letting her right eye show from around the rock as she continued to gaze in the direction of where the aura was coming from.

The young heiress was waiting for the alchemist to surface, waiting to hear his lungs call out desperately for breath. Rolling her eyes at the mere thought, she leaned back against the rock, the water now extending up a little over her breasts. Her eyes then closed, her body relaxing once more. She wouldn't let herself get all tense over this; this was her time to relax, and she would continue doing so. If she had to be consulted by this man, she would be awfully upset. Her eyebrows furrowed faintly as she gently slipped over back to the rock on which she had sat on before, then lay upon it. The water covered her body up to her breasts, which was a good thing.

'I wonder what that boy's motive is. Hopefully it was not to spy. In that case, he has another thing coming.'

She laid in thought, her eyes closed as she continued to relax, not seeming to care about the current situation until she was acknowledged. At that point, she was contemplating taking action.

Light grey clouds moved at a sickeningly slow pace across the sky, seeming to drag time along with it. The surrounding area was silent, the only sound able to be heard the faint buzz and crick of insects in the woods and the soft whisk of the wind. It was a calm night, and Knives' hopes of it staying this way were slowly deteriorating.

OOC: OMFG, Kiriyama actually posted!

BIC: “Eeany,” Dante said, eyeing one possible route. “meany, miney… **** it.”

This was getting increasingly annoying. So many paths that the alchemist could have taken. One would have lead to a forested area nearby, one to the rural district Southeast of the bar, and another would lead him out of town.

To make matters worse, the neo-echo could feel the occasional piece of hail coming from the storm. By God this place’s weather was odd…

“How stupid are you?” , chimed a familiar, but no less annoying voice. “The alchemist would have no reason to go into the woods, and there’s no reason for him to stay in this town. You’ve lost him already!”

Dante sighed and focused on suppressing the voice in his head. It suddenly exploded in a surprising display of anger, finding combinations of swear words in all manner of languages that Dante would never in his most rage filled moments have thought of. Despite WL’s screaming it didn’t take very long for his voice to fade.

Once that was over with Kaja turned his catlike eyes towards the path that led into the woods. That would be the most likely place. The alchemist probably didn’t have a reason to stay in town, but at the same time he didn’t seem to have a reason to leave town either.

The former god pulled a pack of cherry clove cigarettes from his pocket and placed one lightly between his lips. The woods it was…

OOC: Many apologies for the horrible quality of this post. It's been so long since I've posted in anything...

Water in your lungs. Not the nicest feeling. Then again, water filling every part of you wasn’t the nicest feeling. And the feeling that more water was filling his lungs was even worse. Unfortunately for the alchemist, the branch below him had pinned his coat to the rock floor, and was of a big enough size to be lodged firmly. Instinct kicked in momentarily, and Kric clapped his hands to the wood. Following a blue flash that radiated throughout the pool, the branch had become a square block, lighter at least that the branch, and it was no longer hemming him down. Pushing off the rock with both feet, he broke the surface of the water like a rocket, spraying the surrounding areas with water. Eyes opening immediately after, Kric glimpsed the woman once more, before a sharp tug hauled him free of the pool. He felt himself being lifted free of the water, the warm liquid down from his boots and sleeves. Whatever it was that had grabbed him, it held the back of his coat in a vice like grip. Suddenly, he was jerked around, and found himself face to face with a pair of yellow eyes, similar to his own. Even though it was darkening around him, he tell that this mans skin was dark of its own accord.

“I believe you have something in your possession that I need, alchemist,” the figure spoke, the words forcing themselves past the cigarette he had between his lips.

OOC: Short, and to the point. We need to get the fighting done quickly.