When Festivities Turn (HH)

It was a bright day, the sun high in the sky with just enough heat to keep the day pleasantly warm. Kyralie was not the only one to think so, the village all set up for a festival with stalls for food and wares set up along the main street. As she walked through, she earned many gazes. The woman looked scandalized by her white outfit and intricate armour, dressed as they were in their quaint dresses and hats. The men gave more appreciative looks, beginning with her riotous red curls and hovering on her long legs. It was when her ruby eyes glanced it their directions with both challenge and interest that they suddenly became busy with tasks.

Snorting, the Berserker side of Kyralie continued down the way, hoping to find some sort of tavern to hole up in for a while. The festival wouldn't be any fun until the games and contests began.

~~~

Kyralie stepped from the tavern, flicking her hair back over her shoulder and gazing at the festival that was now in full swing. Children ran through the crowd, chasing one another and shrieking with laughter while parents looked on with amusement. Kyralie herself enjoyed the antics of the young as she strode through the crowds, resltless energy coursing through her veins.

Coming back to the present, she could practically imagine what Kyralie would think if she was in control of their body right now, 'Oh no, there are so many people, what if I nudge someone? Boo hoo my karma will be ruined after coming here, I should have stayed holed up in my room and never come out...' the Berserker snorted. It was just pathetic and she couldn't understand how someone as vivacious as herself could possibly be one half of that snivelling person.

As she walked past a fighting ring, already deeming the contenders as worthless, a shout broke out and the people on either side of her scattered. Snapping her head around to see what was the cause, the Berserker gave a strangled cry as a knot of men landed upon her, having fallen off the stage in their brawl.

Growling, her anger rising in full force, she elbowed the men off her, wincing at how the breath had been literally crushed out of her.

"You fools!" she snarled. In the setting light her hair looked as though it was made of flames... and the men gulped as they realised sparks were indeed falling from the glorious curls.

"Begging you pardon, mistress, we didn't mean to-" One of the men walked forward, his arms forward in hopes of appeasement. He was tall, broad shouldered with wavy brown hair and worried blue eyes. Normally, the Berseker would have looked upon with interest of a different sort but at this point in time...

"I don't care whether you meant to or not, what remains is what did happen and I am very, very vexed with you lot," narrowing her ruby eyes she smiled dangerously, "Not only have you injured me but you have dealt a blow to my dignity with that little stunt. And a woman whose dignity has been injured really must return the favor..."

Still smiling, she slowly pulled her sword from its sheath at her side and lunged towards them. It didn't matter to her that they were unarmed and beneath her fighting capabilities. All that mattered to her then as the bloodlust rose within her was to see them broken on the floor and their souls within her grasp.

The men scattered and some fool had called for the guards who were patrolling the festival. Kyralie laughed, turning towards them as they pulled out swords and made to surround her. The crystal blade glowed as sparks from her hair danced upon it.

Spears of fire shot up from the ground and vanished, scattering people as they ran screaming away from the furious woman.

The fools didn't know what they were messing with.

Sunlight gleamed off the drummers' bare chests, their arms pumping wildly as they pounded a deep and booming rhythm on the huge drums. The pair spun around each other, tossing their wooden drumsticks to each other as they did so, and still they managed to keep the beat alive. Leaning over towards each other from either side of the great drum's deerskin face, the drummers began a twirling juggling of their tools. With one hand, they continued to pound at the drum, and with the other, they sent a stick twirling through the air to be caught by the other. The two went into a frenzy, blazing into an incredible finale that ended abruptly and spectacularly. Koganei applauded along with the rest of the crowd, tilting his head back so that the sunlight slipped past his hat to bathe his face in warmth. The crowd around the drummers dissipated as they stepped off-stage, toweling down their sweaty bodies. The ronin turned away, too, and was met with a very disgruntled man weighed down with an armful of packages.

“You, sir, are surely the lowliest scum of the earth!” Takiyama growled, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “To abandon your faithful servant in the middle of a purchase and leave him with more than he can carry!” As if to accent his point, a long thin box slipped out from under his arm and landed painfully on the man’s toe. His face screwed up in pain, the man continued, “How ungrateful, how unappreciative! Surely the great Koganei-dono can spare a bit of his wondrous strength to assist the man that has watched over him for all his life in carrying a few boxes!” Koganei just sat through the tirade, looking very much like a child caught with pilfered cookies. Finally, the samurai managed to calm his manservant down enough to take the bulk of the packages from him, and the two were on their way.

Children laughed and swirled around the two men. Takiyama growled and swore at them as they bumped and jostled him, but Koganei only smiled, basking in their innocent laughter. Too long had it been since he had heard such a sweet noise, a noise very different from the screams and cries of battle that he was accustomed to. In his contemplations, the ronin almost missed the cry of fear, almost mistook it for a recollection freed from the depths of his mind. Then he saw the franticly milling crowd, stampeding his way. He saw the flash of swords in an opening within the sea of bodies, and instinctively dropped his packages. Men, guards, were fleeing in an overwhelmed fear, flinging their swords back at the red-haired swordswoman as they ran. A spear of fire burst up from the ground, catching one in the leg and sending him tumbling. The woman was there in an instant, straddling the man and holding her sword poised above him, ready to plunge down at any moment.

A flash of metal. A hiss of wind. A shower of sparks.

Koganei was down on one knee over the man, his katana held out horizontally above his face. The tip of the woman’s crystal sword was poised against the broad side of Koganei’s, and the two quivered under their wielders’ unrelenting strength. Koganei stared up between the brim of his hat and the locked blades to lock stares with the woman. He heaved, and the woman fell back without resistance, readying her sword with a sneer. The samurai rose slowly to his feet, stepping off the man (who immediately ran away) and moving to the side. Reversing his grip on the sword, the ronin brought the blade up in a defensive pose, held out and down towards his right knee, and his left palm bracing the butt of the hilt.

“If it is a fight you seek, Akaikami-dono, then I shall be the one you fight.”

Kyralie snarled at the man who dared to appear before her in such a fashion, stopping her blade so dramatically. Her nature appreciated the daring it took to complete such an act and it might have even appeased her to find someone of what seemed to be decent skill among so many who lacked – yet his next words fueled her hot-blooded heart.

“If it is a fight you seek, Akaikami-dono, then I shall be the one you fight.”

A lazy smile graced her lips; her eyes alight with an inner fire at the possibility of a decent fight. Bloodshed always gave her a rush, but an actual fight… she hadn’t had any recently, just mere slaughter and carnage.

“Don’t state the obvious, it won’t do any good, however…” the Berserker slid into an side on stance, her eyes flicking towards the other yukata clad man who stood gazing between her and his owner so pitifully, “you might want to check on your man there, he looks ready to faint.”

That seemed to earn a reaction out of him for he stood a tad taller, a look of near outrage on his face, “Koganei-dono is a magnificent fighter who would never lose to the likes of you!”

“Takiyama-san…” Koaganei looked to his man servant warningly, for his own good.

With a final snort in Kyralie’s direction, Takiyama moved away from the battle area, but not before Kyralie sent a small ring of flames around them that nipped his pants and scorched a circle into the fairgrounds around them.

His offended squeal brought a rich laugh from the Valkyrie but a disapproving glare from the young ronin. Kyralie could just imagine what sorts of honor bound thoughts were running through that head…

“That was very disrespectful of you, Akaikami-dono. Takiyama-san has nothing to do with this fight-“

“The name's Kyralie, Koganei-san. I don’t stand for formality but… in the name of the Gods’ why am I even bothering to tell you who I am? Just fight already!” What began as polite for her ended in a near scream of frustration, the crystal of the sword gleaming in a bright arc as it first crossed her body as she launched towards the ronin, the back hand strike aimed for his neck. At the same time, more fires burst from the ground, creating a ring around the fighters to keep others out.

It was as though he knew she was coming, for when she reached him he was already blocking her sword with his; diagonal across his body and in a reversed grip to stop her blade from reaching its mark.

Feeling the weight of the blow with a new respect for his opponent, Koganei rotated his bracing hand, using it to help slide the blade up and to the left, deflecting the crystal sword to the opposite side. Maintaining his momentum, the ronin slid his right foot around across his left, spinning around and quick-stepping behind the woman in a movement that could hardly even be registered to the the normal eye. Rotating his blade within his hands, Koganei brought the sword up in a quick slash. Yet the woman was stepping forward and away from the samurai, and the blade only grazed her, its tip sliding across her armor ineffectively.

The red-haired woman spun around on the samurai, laughing almost hysterically. Yelling, she threw herself forward, his crystal blade flashing down in a powerful overhead smash. Without even trying to block the powerful attack (although he was sure he could have), Koganei spun to the side. The crystal blade followed, turning a sharp angle and flashing up at the samurai's neck from below. Once more, the ronin used the angle of the attack to deflect it, sliding his blade under the woman's and sending it up over his head as he stepped back in front of her. Clenching the hilt of his blade tightly, the samurai brought his sword down across the woman's chest in a vicious stike. He didn't wait to see the effects of his attack; immediately leaping back and bringing his sword up level with his shoulders. Yelling, the man dashed forward, his powerful arm thrusting out and sending the blade homing in at the woman's chest.

Kyralie snarled silently in frustration; the ronin was like a fish - slipping and sliding around her attacks. It didn't occur for her to analyse his movements as her Sadist side would have done, she merely saw her attacks foiled and took it as a personal insult against herself.

When his attack caught her across her chest, the force was more than she expected, bruising even through her armour. Staggering back and wincing, one hand raised to across her as though that would make the pain less, her crystal sword rose once more to defend. Her eyes were greeted with a swift blur coming towards her again, a silver flash as the sword was thrust towards its target.

Eyes widening, determination flooded through her, mingling with the adrenaline as she pivoted, spinning around and down beneath that deadly strike. Her leg snapped out, connecting with the ronin as he rushed into it. Not allowing herself to remain in such an awkward position on the ground she flipped backwards onto her feet, arms flung out for balance.

The samurai was quick, already seeming to have recovered from her blow. He stood ready again, eyes watching her carefully as though trying to discover what she would do next. A near impossible task when she moved with no rhyme or reason - just instinct.

She flexed her free hand, tense under the armoured vines protecting it. She would be putting the armour through a tough test - hopefully he didn't have any weapons crafted by gods which would whittle away her defence.

So thinking she lunged towards him, sword behind to swing and her other hand outstreched ready to slam aside whatever he decided to aim at her.

Koganei saw and noted the deflected stance, and—switching his sword to his right hand alone—waded willingly into it. His right arm came across, slashing diagonally from hip to shoulder. As expected, the woman’s extended hand smashed the blade aside, her own sword barreling down on the samurai from above. Grinning, Koganei’s left hand flashed up to his right shoulder from where it had been hovering expectantly his chest, grasping the hilt of the blade there and drawing it free to block the descending crystal sword. The blade was a scimitar, the curved blade resting easily on the ronin’s shoulder guard, his head ducked beneath it to avoid the crystal sword. Sliding his left foot across, Koganei spun around, flinging the halted blade away and bring both of his own swords to bear.

Kyralie growled in anger and renewed her attack, crystal blade flashing in a rapid series of blinding thrusts. Koganei continuously hopped backwards, avoiding the deadly sword by weaving back and forth, side to side. He had to change the angle of his retreat as he came upon the wall of flames, Kyralie following him into a wide circle. The crystal blade flashed in an upwards slash, and the samurai saw and seized his moment of opportunity. The scimitar in his left hand darted up to lock with the woman’s raised sword, while the katana in his right slashed in across her silver breastplate. The attack didn’t do much more than maybe inflict a bruise, but it put the ronin in position to continue his attack. Kyralie struggled against the man’s locking blade, the two’s arms wavering under the tremendous opposing forces. Grunting, Koganei twisted the katana around, angling its point in line with the woman’s throat. The blade flew in straight, yet the deadly thrust was again thwarted as the woman’s free hand flashed in to deflect the attack and close around the hilt, her hand clenched over Koganei’s.

The two fought for a long moment, each struggling to gain control. Finally, Koganei decided it was time to end the stale-mate. Grinning, he twisted his scimitar, freeing both it and the crystal sword. Yet Kyralie didn’t have time to utilize it, the ronin grinning and speaking as he brought the blade down her front.

“Seishou Setsudanki.”

Blue energy flowed from the descending sword, clashing against the length of Kyralie’s body, point-blank. The flash of energy enshrouded the two for a second in time, sending up an explosion of dust as the tail of the attack caught the ground.

Kyralie lay coughing on the ground, spitting the dust from her mouth as she glared at the ronin standing so calmy before her. Her front felt as though it had been hit by a sledge hammer, knocking the air from her lungs so she lay gasping for a few moments.

Those few moments of shock cleared her bloodlust briefly, her mind focusing on that attack that had been unleashed upon her. Never would she have expected such skill from a random warrior. It was to her greatest luck to be fighting someone with such ability.

"That wouldn't be your only move, would it?" her question was quiet and rhetorical, her eyes curious as they watched that silent figure. Getting to her feet she slammed her blade back within its sheath, earning a puzzled stare.

"Are you giving up the fight, Akaikaimi dono?"

A raucous laugh bubbled up through her lips, the absurdity of that question fueling her humour.

"I never give up a fight until I'm broken or my enemy lies defeated," she spat out, eyes glinting as flames seemed to dark about her body. To any one watching she seemed like a demon of hell, her eyes filled with battle rage and fires burning around her as they dripped from her hair.

Holding a hand above her head, a white mist seemed to gather and form leaving behind an ornate scythe. It's crystal blade glowed clear, void of souls it should be carrying. Her favoured weapon.

She glanced at the ronin, wondering if the scythe was working on him in it's insidious way - trying to tempt him to abandon his soul to it. It was a greedy weapon, after all. Glutinous for always more souls and energy.

"Let us see how your tricks fare against my Reaper," the Valkyrie cried as she dashed towards him, her blade singing its song of death as it flashed towards him. Her movements had changed with her weapon, becoming a brutal dance as her scythe spun and weaved through the air as though it weighed nought. It flashed towards Koganei's side, aimed for his neck then turned to come around at his feet in a sudden twist.

And all the while the fires surrounding the two combatants rose steadily higher towards the sky, the air becoming hotter and heavier.