Bounty: "Oblivion" (Beh, Daru, Scholar, Z)

A few awkward glances were thrown in Knives' direction as she entered the bustling oriental village. From studies in her adolescence, she had learned that these people were extremely aware and paranoid about demons. There was always a resident monk in each town to ward away fallen spirits, but most of the time they just did it for the attention and the money. There was an assortment of huts strung up from hay, mud, and some even of thin planks of wood. As she ventured further into the village and moved into the more civilized, well-off population manor-houses started to pop up here and there, as well as some sort of transportation service where men pulled carts of well-dressed people around. It looked more like slavery to her, but what should she care? They were humans, and humans were insignificant and trivial.

The air was filled with the smell of cherry-blossom musk, and the sweetness of the scent caused her to wrinkle her nose as she made her way through the town. She observed the way everyone seemed to work harmoniously, as if everything was organized perfectly down to the last splinter of wood that made up each of the houses. It was far more pleasing to the eye than the small villages on the outskirts, but still was nothing like her home. As she made her way through the industrial part of the town, she could smell ethnic foods being cooked, the smell of metal being melted and smithed, and the freshly caught fish in a market stand nearby. She came to understand that these people lived relatively simple lives, something deep down that she yearned for.

Being chased around from realm to realm, and being rejected by most, if not all the races existing--even your own--was a hard life. Constantly having to be disguised, incase there had been some sort of inter-realm communication concerning her path of destruction, was another downside to this lifestyle. She constantly had to be paranoid, and very rarely had times of peace and quiet. She hoped that since this rural town was definitely out of the way, and nowhere near any out-of-the-ordinary superhuman auras, she would be granted that.

She was dressed in her traditional uniform, which consisted of boots, yukata pants, her split-top and her tube top, as well as her cloak. Knives drew large, heavy hood of her cloak down, only to have a scarf wrapped loosely about her face, which covered from the middle of her nose, down. Gently she set a hand on the shoulder of a nearby worker, who was currently fixing some sort of pillar of a manor house's entryway. The worker jumped, spooked from the abrupt interruption.

"Eh?" He inquired. 'Definitely Japanese.' She mused with raised eyebrows, momentarily speaking fluently in his native language, "I'd like to know where your local spa and hot springs are."

The worker tilted his head to the side, grinning coyly at the sound of her voice and pointing straight ahead, and explaining that it was a right turn from the two-way dirt road ahead and then left.

Knives nodded and without another word left in that direction, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw the steam from the springs. She was thankful for the ability reserve private springs, for there were the public springs, and then there were the private springs. Sure, it cost a little extra money but it was worth it. She didn't feel like dealing with the natives any more than she had to.

Upon entering the spa's main building, she spoke with the clerk, reserving a small spring that was behind this building, surrounded by large boulders that granted her maximum privacy. She was given a set of towels, one bath towel on the bottom, one medium, and two smaller cloths on the top. After being told she was to leave her belongings in a specified closet in a room behind the counter, she followed the woman and did so. She figured that it would be better if she left her things out of sight so she wouldn't have to even think about being sought after, and left it at that.

The spring was practically calling to her now, and she quickly undressed and substituted her clothes for a towel, leaving her clothes with her other belongings and heading down the hallway. At the end of the hallway there was a hallway that ran horizontal, holding four doors that led out to private springs. There was also a man at the end of the hallway, who was to check for the specific number that the lady at the front desk had written on the back of her hand: 4. He directed her to the fourth door once she had shown him the number, and returned to his place at the end of the hall as she slipped into the door and closed it quietly behind her.

It was as natural and as wonderful as the springs she found in the wilderness, and was glad that they weren't man made aside from the boulders that had miraculously been moved to seperate each spring. She decided that she wouldn't get into the water just yet, and sat upon a boulder, leaning upon another that was behind her. The heat from the steam opened up her pores, allowing her body to breathe once again and slowly clense itself of the all the accumulated dirt.

The ax ripped through the ground and split the earth it struck with the greatest of ease. The demon removed its weapon and stepped back as it looked at the shorter man, who held no visible weapons. With a quick spin and a fierce heel to the stomach, the demon launched backwards into a tree. The creature dropped its ax as it slowly slid down the tree. Trickles of blood marked the place the creature had struck the tree.

It was silent for a moment before the dark clad man spoke. "Tsk. I had hoped this would be a challenge. Instead, I'm met with another failure of an exorcism. If I weren't being paid to kill you, I'd tell you to get lost. **** luck for you, my friend," Monroe, the Technological Quincy, stated as he held his left hand out. In a flourish of bright green particles, a bow formed in the Quincy's hand. A small smile graced the fighter's lips as he readied to finish this.

The demon, a very weak one Monroe deduced from its spiritual pressure, reached its hand for its ax. The stupid creature wasn't quite ready to give up. After all, it was just a servant.

The sound of energy flowing from the bow echoed as the archer drew back the string of his bow and released his an arrow. The bow string clang. The creature roared. Blood sprayed from the demon's now severed arm. The dark clad Quincy smiled again.

As the arm and ax hit the ground, the creature stood up. Fear was almost writ in the face of the creature. It knew its life was over, but still, death is something most people aren't willing to openly embrace. The demon stood up and bolted in terror. "Tsk." The sword Quincy smirked as he focused his enhanced eyes and drew back his bowstring, releasing another arrow. This one struck the target with intense accuracy, blowing the demon's head clean off.

The village elder approached the enhanced human and stared at the dead demon in awe for a moment. "S-sir!" he said, clearly shaken by the hunter's skills. "I have your pay," he said, handing the dark clad man an envelope. The Quincy opened the envelope and nodded.

"Good doing business with you."

o=)----------Rubato: Monroe's Home------------(=o

Monroe entered into his house and looked around. "Tracey? Alex? Are you home?" It was only his first day home after his month of training at the Dome. As far as he knew, they might have moved, but Tracey would have told him. To the Quincy's better knowledge, he might have been later than he thought. Still, something called out to him. A single note on the table.

The Quincy picked the note up and scanned it, reading over this interesting thing. It had been dated two days ago, and to Monroe's surprise he found himself to be back two days early in Rubato's time. The note discussed a routine exorcism that the hunter should go out and do for the massive amount of money it paid out. Tracey also warned that this particular bounty was dangerous.

The last line of the note told the dark Quincy where they were. "Out for a little while. Love Tracey," he read out loud as he looked at the title of this target. "Oblivion, huh? That seems familiar," the dark clad man said as he placed the letter and the pay from his last mission down. It was time to get to work.

o=)---------- -----------(=o

Monroe had followed his senses, searching out a powerful spiritual pressure. The Quincy had found one in a young woman that seemed to be traveling. The wayfarer seemed to be heading somewhere, and the only thing that prevented Monroe from knowing where was the language they spoke. He needed to brush up on his Eastern Languages, even though his European were still very good. The Quincy's silence allowed him to follow her for the very short while she had been traveling that day.

After almost four hours of following her, it finally clicked where he had seen her. She was Oblivion. That name had been her bounty has well. Whoever had sent in the request for her "exorcism" must have known quite well where she was headed. Monroe crossed his arms and smiled.

"Finally, a real challenge," he mused as he stood just outside of the hot spring building. When the time came to fight, he could easily sense her. This would finally be an entertaining exorcism.

Hoch felt the steam from the spring he was in open his pores. He was chasing someone. Well, from the report he received he'd say something. He'd been lounging when an informant buzzed him.

Come here. Usual place. Lotta money.

The usual place was an old abandoned warehouse. Hoch could climb the side then enter through a window. The informant's name was Mike. Mike had blond hair and wore clothes for comfort not looks.

"Do you speak Japanese?" he'd asked.

"I used to speak it like a local. Now I'm a bit rusty. Why?" was Hoch's reply.

Mike handed him a large folder with Japanese writing. Some was English but most was Japanese.

"It's written in most languages but as you can see Japanese is the most complete."

For the next few days Hoch brushed up on his Japanese and the next two translating it. He found that if he killed it he'd get a bit over one million dollars.

He tracked her for the next week. He saw no sign of her until today. She walked into the hot springs of a small village. Hoch had already explored the entire village. He hadn't payed the springs any special attention but he still knew how it was made. From where she went he could tell she went to the private springs. He asked the woman and she said number four was currently the only one in use. He'd decided to go with three. It was a bit closer to four than five.

Now he was leaning against a brown boulder. Trying to not make any noise and just listen to what was happening in spring four.

Hmmm... She's not in the water. She may be dozing. If so now would be a good time to strike. They hadn't let Hoch take his weapons with him. However he had a hidden one. He slipped a leather pouch out of his mouth. He opened one end of it and took out a blade from it.

"They say it can't be done." A man spoke as he stepped out from the shadows, hood still hiding his face.

"I have heard that one two many times. If it has the power to live, then I have the power to take it's life." Meteora stepped from his shadow, hood covering face as well.

The two men met in a random alley as they usually did. The assassin gets many jobs from this mysterious customer. Although this is the first time he doubted the half-elf's ability.

"I know. I know. And I really want to believe your words but that is why I shall only give you half pay now." The man held out his purse of dimonds. "She is the most dangerous creature I have ever heard of, you cannot possibly imagin the carnage!"

"She?" Meteora raised an eyebrow while snatching the bag of dimonds. "You know my rules . . . no children . . . no women. That is final!"

"She is no women I assure you! She is a beast! A maniac! You must destroy her!"

Ignoring the mans last words the assassin turned and began to walk away. "Thanks for the dimonds."

The man dropped to his knees and tossed another purse of dimonds towards the assassin. "Oh my friend! Can you not kill one to save hundreds? Even thousands! This creature does not share your sympathy. She will feed regardless of age and sex. We are her cattle assassin! You are her . . "

"I am her nothing! She has never met my arrow nor my steel." He paused then picked up the other bag of dimonds. " I shall accept this job. But I will be after your head next if this women is not how you described. Too many innocent have fallen from my blade."

The man only folded his hands together and nodded accordingly.

"The ship leaves in the morning assassin. Do not be late!" The man managed to sqeeze out a few words before Meteora turned the corner.

<-------------------------------------WEEK LATER ----------------------->

"Wake up! Wake up you sea rats! get off my boat! We are docked!" The big hairy captin of the boat yelled as he pushed through the passangers of the small cargo ship.

"Eh? What are you lookn' at sonny? I said get off!" The captain snatched Meteora's bag and through it to the dock below. "Com on lad!" The hairy man yelled while pushing the assassin and a few others dow the ramp with his boot.

The half-elf walked over to where the captain threw his bag and reached down to pick it up. When he lifted the bag to his back he noticed the small window on the side of the ship leading to the gun powder storage room for the cannon balls. With a sly grinn Meteora created a ball of fire and tossed it through the glass. With a big boom the ship went up in flames. Meteora turned and headed to the village. He couldn't help but notice the hairy captain running around barking orders, and puttin a fire out of his jacket.

Not knowing where to begin in this strange place the half-elf walked up to a young man on the dock.

"Good after-noon sir. I am looking for a place to stay and relax. Where can I find such a place for the night?" The man didn't reply. He only stood there and shrugged.

It was at this point that the assassin realized they have sailed beyond the reach of his language skills. No worries though, Meteora found a bench down the road more next to some private spa. This would be an adequate place for him to relax and study a map.

OoC: For clarity, I give you the definition. I used the top definition, not the bottom one.
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ref·use ˈrɛfyus[ref-yoos]
–noun
1. something that is discarded as worthless or useless; rubbish; trash; garbage.
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re·fuse1 rɪˈfyuz[ri-fyooz]
–verb (used with object)
1. to decline to accept (something offered): to refuse an award.
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BiC: Zryxan was bored. Psychotic and bored were usually a bad combination. He sat in his bunk sulking at the lack of things to do all day, before deciding what would best fill his time. He needed an assignment like oxygen, and not just any assignment, one with killing. Oh yes, definitely one with killing... an assassination? That sounded just perfect for Zryxan's mood.

He stood, grabbing his cloak. The hood was over his face before he reached his door, because not even Ragnarok got to see his face. The tall, thin youth walked up to the Interim leader, a man who's name he never bothered to learn, and asked what was available.

"Uh... uhm... we've got this one, if all you're interested in are assassinations. Codename: 'Oblivion', pays well too, and nobody else wants it."

"Sounds perfect. Give it here." Zryxan demanded, then, not waiting for the man, snatched the mission specs and stormed out of the office. As he left, he heart the man mutter something that sounded a lot like "*******", so with a wave of the PK user's arm, one of his shelves collapsed, throwing mission files and other paperwork on top of the poor guy. Pathetic sack of refuse, call me a name again, see how long you live.
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Zryxan arrived at the old Oriental village, mentally reviewing the rudimentary Japanese he knew in case he deigned to speak with the locals. Typically, he preferred not to do so on these types of missions. He kept his hood over his head, where it cast shadow on his face.

It was broad daylight, so Zryxan figured it wasn't much good for seeking his target. Instead he set about learning the landscape, and spending his time in places where people weren't aware of his presence. When there were more shadows about, he would begin his search in earnest, for now, he enjoyed the anticipation.

OoC: Sorry that post was so fail, and that it took so long. I have a lot of distractions, and writer's block.

Now there was nothing left to do but relax. She removed her towel, sliding slowly into the water and feeling the tension melt from her muscles. Sure, there was that twinge of paranoia eaing at her from the back of her mind, but what should she care? She had not only killed and escaped from every bounty hunter and demonic exterminator that had crossed her path, she had done it extremely well. Regardless of how horrible it sounded, she loved how she could see the true cowards behind the armor and weaponry the moment before their death. It was worth every drop of her blood that had been spilt, and every pesky ward she had to peel off of her burning skin at the end of the day.

The majority of hired/freelance assasins all had the same strategy, and it was getting old. 'If I am known in hundreds of different realms for different crimes of different categories and secerities, they should come better prepared.' She mused, arching as she allowed herself to submerge and soak for about a minute or so under the water. When she surfaced she took in a deep breath, sliding her hands back over her hair as her amusing inner-rant continued. The shortness of each battle made it fee like killing them was more of a chore, something she had to slaver over. She wanted--she needed something new and interesting. She needed a challenge for once.

OoC: Sorry about the wait. I had a series of things happen that have kept me from RPing at normal capacity.

BiC: The dark clad man stood upon the tree branch, remaining mostly silent as he watched as far as his eyes could see. There was silence for a long while. Only the low sound of wind could be heard as the Quincy looked around. He could feel the movement of a few people in town who had higher than average spiritual pressure, but nothing that was threatening to this woman. There were a few villagers moving about in a bit of fear, but that was nothing new.

There were a few moments where there was very little movement. Then, it hit him. Almost like a ton of bricks, to be more exact. There were many, many people who were moving onwards, but mostly away from the hot springs. However, there were at least three people that had just entered with no such resolve. There were people that were coming here with their own reasons.

Each was quite strong, and each were in different areas. For now, Monroe would wait to see what happened. This was turning out to be a possibly interesting turn of events.