Joint-assignment: Maruis vs Sakume

Okay, here we are finally. I know I always say I’ll do things and then never do them or at least, in this case, procrastinate and then do them. I’ll try my hardest to break that horrible habit. I’ve no real go excuse for taking so long, so all I can do is apologize. I’m sooo sorry.

All righty, now that I’ve got that out of the way. Here we go. Marius and Sakume, step up to the battle area. Heh heh. Okay, here’s the deal. Irva’s teacher, Kai, and Sakume’s teacher, Adrien, decided to have their students battle each other and see how well they do. Both of your characters will receive a message to go to the room with the plain white door and gold handle. Pretty simple door, but since all the doors in the Dome look different, this is the only one like this here. You’re characters might have some trouble finding it, have a little creativity here of course. Your teachers won’t be there right away. First come, first serve. This meaning, who ever is the fastest to post first gets the first turn when the battle starts. I’ll post after you two have posted.

Oh yeah, and inside the room is just a plain white floor. Just white stone. The ceiling and walls can’t be seen. Basically, it seems to stretch on forever with no end. Only a white-ish mist can be seen in the distance. The door your character enters through will be standing up in the air, nothing supporting it. Then, it will disappear after your character has entered the room.

I have no real set curriculum here. I just want to see what you can do. So, this is a good way to show off your writing skills and impress me. Who knows. This might lead to an early graduation if you kick a lot of ass, in the writing sense of course. I’m sure you’re all aware that this is not about which character wins, but which writer does the best job. This is also just a good way to catch any errors or areas that you might need to work on as a writer in the BA.

All righty, that’s all. Hop to youngins’!

EDIT: Oh, and Marius, sorry I spelled your penname wrong in the title ^^;;;;

“Damn it!” The steady stream of insults continued to roll off her tongue; she cracked her knuckles one at a time, trying to rid her anger in a non-hurtful way. He had to go and leave his student alone, and when she had no comprehension whatsoever of where to go or what to do. Sakume even surprised herself with the colorful explicative vocabulary she contained. She recalled the message her “teacher” left her vaguely, she was to find some sort of door and…her training would commence? Well, the sooner she got out of this twisted sanctuary, the better. To tell the truth, the brunette would have referred back to the hastily scribbled note, but she had gone and torn it up, her bitter attitude getting the better of her.

Her soft boots padded silently down the solemn hallway, what an endless place this dome was. So quiet…so speechless…exhaling softly, Sakume eliminated all those thoughts from her mind. This was no time to feel sorry for anyone, especially herself. Now…what color did he say the door was supposed to be? Was it green? No, maybe it was red. No, it had to be black. Pursing her lips, the hesitant girl opened the one nearest her, a vivid aqua. An immediate deafening roar greeted the unwanted visitor, and she slammed the door shut, sinking down against the paneling with a surprised exhale.

She lifted a hand and brushed away the sticky substance that covered her hair, her heart thudding at a reckless pace. “What the hell is a dragon doing in here? I thought those were only fairy tales!” she exclaimed to no one in particular, shuddering. “Now I’m covered in an overgrown lizard’s spit…how wonderful...” She glanced up as if there were a hidden camera spying on the residents of the dome; she rose to her feet, throwing the fragile hands towards the ceiling. “Can’t you see I’m ecstatic?” With a semi-sadistic laugh, she continued to walk down the hall.

“Now this green door contains either something I’m going to like a lot, or something I won’t like at all.” Dark orbs scanned the top, where a scrawled message chipped itself into the wood. “This is the dream…” A frail, chapped mouth slowly formed the words before she finally decided to try it. She knew it wasn’t the right one, but it sounded rather appealing. As her feet connected against the floor, she knew instantly that it was a hologram. They were supposed to be leaves, fall leaves against her feet, but it did not smell like the season…The trees were old, they almost seemed to come to life as she passed by them, her ears caught a crunching noise and she looked downward. What? Her shoes had vanished, and she ended up in barefeet, the stale leaves crackling as she stepped on them...

Surrounding her was a heavily wooded area, which was not very large, but had enough room to contain a babbling river and a few sparsely placed rocks. Just then, she saw a figure emerge from beyond the water. It was a man; she was so shocked it took a moment to think of details. As she began to back away from him, she surveyed his picture. He hardly seemed resistible; long blonde hair as golden as wheat fell to his shoulders, his chest was bare, well-formed. Besides this, he hardly had anything on, only a pair of tan pants, laced up with a black leather belt. He seemed graced with a pair of thin, perfect lips; his large eyes were a bright emerald. Sakume blinked a few times as he approached, deciding whether to bolt or attack viciously. “What do you want?” she shouted, reaching back for her weapons.

He said nothing, simply extended a hand towards her, as if asking for the return of her own. Considering this, Sakume let her hands leave her weapons, eyeing him warily. “I ask you again, what is it you want?” she repeated, though suddenly she began to feel strangely tired in his presence. She began to sway as the world seemed to close in, blackness invading her vision. “What?...What’s happening?” she stammered, losing her grip as she fell into the void of unconsciousness…

Sakume awoke to the sensation of someone touching her back, and although she froze instantly, the effect of the touch was somewhat…relaxing. She turned a bit, to notice the man she had seen before…only he was next to her, on a rock near the river. She felt paralyzed, as if something else had taken over her mind and body; she couldn’t control her actions. She swallowed harshly, her skin tingling as he ran a finger down her spine. It was then that she realized. She had nothing on her back. Where were her clothes? Sitting up in panic, she realized she positioned herself on his lap, and there was nothing covering her from the stomach up. Her hands flew to her chest; she stumbled off of the boulder in a daze. “Where are my clothes?” she shouted in a delirious panic, only to feel something pulling her back. It was the man’s hand, gripping about her wrist.

“Let me…” She noticed his eyes, how pleading and saddened they were. Where had she seen those eyes before? Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m sorry…I can’t…” She pulled away, stumbling and falling with a loud splash in the river. She gasped at her reflection. Instead of the werewolf’s normal rugged appearance, messy hair, and sorrowful dark eyes, her entire look was different. Replacing the tangled hair was a silky wave of locks, hardly recognizable. Her body was unmarred, without blemish, and as lovely as she had only dared to imagine in her deepest dreams…Raising a hand to touch her cheek, she felt a tear trickle down her chin. When she looked to the male again, he held a hand towards her own.

Against her instincts, she reached out as well, only pausing as she neared his fingertips. “I…can’t…this is only…in my heart. This is something I can never be…I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes, reopening them to run at full speed to the door. She burst out of it, falling to her knees. Right away (mostly due to the fact that she had clothes on again), Sakume could tell she was her old self. She bit her tongue until she tasted blood to refuse her mourning. She finally understood…that was her impossible dream…to find someone that loved her…to be beautiful. Not to be this…this horrible monster! She hugged her bare arms, digging her fingernails into her skin. This was not a time to be angry…she would take this out on the training.

It was funny that she began to think of that, for at that moment, she spotted it. How she knew it was the right door, she couldn’t explain. All she knew was the white pureness attracted her; she just knew. Her hand enclosed about the knob, she pulled it open and cautiously peeked inside. It was white…her feet slipped into the room, the instant they alighted on the ground the door was lost to her grip. “Wha-?” she cried, whipping around. It was no use, the entry was gone. She despairingly looked around, and began to saunter forward, having no idea where she was going. “Hello?” she cried in a disheartening shout, the only reply the echoing of her voice. A mist began to form, keeping her vision limited. After taking a few more steps, it dawned on her. Sakume was right back where she started. “Damn it.”

((I wanted to add more detail, but I was afraid it would end up too long. Hope it was alright though.))

Warm brown furs, probably that of a bear, moved slightly, the hair spreading out as something moved beneath the surface, the pale leather/skin peeking out from between the hairs. The air was heavy with the smell of sandalwood incense, on an oak nightstand nearby, the smoke curled up into the air, an ephemeral gray tendril lingering against the maroon painted walls. A mocha hand could be seen laying gently upon the down pillow, long fingers splayed in the soft whiteness, a mass of curly red tresses lay under it, the source hiding under the furs. Predawn light flittered through the red lace curtain; the gentle sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs below resonated peacefully in the room. A silver-plated candelabrum hung from the ceiling; trails of once melted wax trailing down the white candle stems, thick pools of it in midair, some magic keeping it from spilling below were the candles ended. The plume of smoke tentatively licked at the silver, twining around the shinning metal, to dissipate upon touching the barrier of magic.

A soft moan broke the silence, and the mass under the furs shifted. A lean coffee colored thigh emerged from some gap in the furs, before the soft blankets shifted once again, and it was hidden. Near the top of the bed, bear fur knotted in two places, the clear outline of fingers pressed against the surface. And in a mad tousle, the animal skins were pushed down. Almond shaped glassy gray eyes peered into the semi-light of the predawn hours, looking around hurriedly, as if they forgot were they were. The face turned from side to side, sharp nose tenting the blankets, and the tent followed the movement of the facial feature. Curled toes pulled the blankets down the rest of the way, to expose the lovely medium sized face with a rounded chin, the thick mane of strawberry blond curls laying about her, a sea of red upon the white of the pillow and the brown of the skins.

A sly smile spread across Irvanna’s face, her light brown colored lips turning up in the corners, a twinkle emanating from her eye. She had remembered where she was, something unusual for an assassin to forget where one was. But it was her second night at the dome, and the first night her room had been that of her room at home. With another smile, Irva remembered how her room had changed. How she had answered the knock at her door, yesterday in her winter apparel, not to find her teacher, but a note pinned to her door, a thin parchment with writing like that of sticks placed together. Telling her, that instead of setting out that day, she was to get some rest, take off her winter cloths, and prepare for some practice on the morrow. With that, the woman had donned her regular attire; the slim fitting yet acrobatically fit black dress with brass rings, and had wandered the campus, seeking out the door that she would enter the next day to practice.

The Gerudo assassin had not found the door, and instead spent a calming day sitting under a pomegranate tree meditating. She had thought of things she had desired, to see the ocean, imagining the luxuries that Gerudos imagined. Paints of deep wine red, expensive incenses, fur softer than velvet, silver and hardwood. Things she had talked about with the other children of the fortress, what each would have should they be Queen of their kind. These childish memories, things of her now seemingly distance past, were the things she focused on to relax.

Irvanna had returned that night, after eating a meal she had procured from a lavish restaurant she discovered through a door that was in the back of a restroom stall.. Both ideas were strange to her, that of a restroom, and that of a restaurant in one.. But lavatories with lavish lunchrooms were not on her list of lamentations, so she let it lye. (Heh, that was a on purpose funny sentence, because I am bored!) And after words she returned to her room.

The Sheikha passed her door many times, failing to recognize it. She searched for the word “Irvie” painted in gold, and a metal grill with bars filed out. Yet with resolution and realization, she stopped afore a polished mahogany door, a gilded iron knob poking out in the traditional star and crescent of the Gerudo (not to offend any Muslims, but I do believe this is the symbol of the Gerudo. I in no way wish to disrespect your religion). Impressed in silver gilt was the letters “I” and “H”, both in fancy scroll lettering, and it reflected ones image rather well. With skepticism, the mocha colored woman opened the door and peered into her room.

And it was as it is now, rather pleasing to the little girl, and the woman in the assassin. Irvanna squinted her elliptical eyes, drawing the mauve lips close together as she judged the sun. Yes, now about was the time she should go searching for that other door. Pivoting on her back side, the agile woman planted her slim feet upon the warm redwood panel floor, enjoying the soothing warmth, pleased that she had not received the shock of bare stone, with the realization that she had just merely dreamed her room. The furs slide away from her subtle Sheikhan curves, exposing her radiant cappuccino body to the light of the morning sun.

Padding silently to a heavily lacquered cherry chair, she slipped her arm under her black dress, which had been hanging over the broad back. Carrying it with her, Irvanna sauntered in all her glorious nudity over to her window, pulled back the gauzy curtains and peered out. There was no way of opening the window, it was all glass, and the lack of change, aside from the rise and set of sun and moon, signified it was merely an illusion created by magic, or something of the ilk. But it still was peaceful, to once in her life look out upon the ocean, and watch as the sun rose from it, the light playing in the cresting waves, like a rainbow made tangible. With a deep sigh, the woman started getting ready for the day.

A slight black clad figure clicked her way down the endless corridor of doors. Curly red hair pulled back from her face, brass rings shining with care. Around her shoulders lay her gleaming scarf of chain, the steel rings mended and replaced in order with care, the ends held in her slim mocha hands. Eyes like smoked glass darted from side to side, keenly observing each door. Her instructor, Kai, had told her in the note that the door was white.. About 15 doors from her room.. The only problem was that her room was on a corner, at a four-way intersection. So now the Gerudo assassin was walking down the corridor to the right of her door.

Her lips opened slightly, the sandy rose colored flesh pulling apart slowly, only upon the final bit separating, the lips merely closed once again, and opened. Fourteen, fifteen. The door was a burgundy, with a brass ring for a handle. Irvanna frowned, and turned sharply on the heel of her cushy knee high calf skin boots. Quickly she strode to the adjacent corridor; the door there was orange. Still calm, Irva paced to the next hallway, a black door.. With a smile, she walked down the next and found a red door..
Fuming, Irvanna went back to the first hallway, and in the place of the burgundy door, was a blue one. Striding, the Sheikha ran through the hallways, searching wildly for a white door..

After a half-hour, and decreasing her stride to a moping shuffle, Irvanna came upon a white door. Beaming, her boxy teeth glinting in the sunlight filtering from a portcullis. And when she touched the door, her hand reaching out shakily in glee, as soon as her slim fingertips touched the cool wood, it dematerialized. With a snarl, Irvanna struck the hard bricks and only got a bloodied knuckle. She turned around, and sunk against the wall. And with that, she felt not the rough stone bricks, but smooth ice-cold wood.. Quickly the woman whipped around, and watched the door vanish from sight. Turning around again, she look at the reflection of the wall behind her in the polished rings of her scarf, see saw the reflection of the door, and the handle, a lump of twisted sliver, looking much like a gnarled mass of tree roots. Slowly, Irva reached her hand up, and grasped the door for merely a second, before it melted away. Enraged, the assassin moved away from the door, watching as it took form once again in the reflection held upon the polished metal surface of a chain link.

The thin wood shattered, splinters flying about in the air, a maelstrom of debris floating through the vast misty nothingness. In the center of the maelstrom of harsh fibers, was the tail end of a chain mail scarf, then as suddenly as a viper striking, it recoiled. The assassin Irvanna Hirha walked through the rectangular black gap in the brink wall, the rage subsiding from her smoky eyes. She saw a figure ahead, and the woman smiled, thinking it to be her teacher Kai.

Walking coolly up to the person, she started to raise her weapon to strike, her rage at the man great, but she then started to notice, this was no man.. Twas a woman.. Letting the scarf fall to rest on her shoulders once again, Irva walked silently behind the woman, and tapped her gently on the shoulder.

“Hello madam,” the Gerudo said pleasantly, a smile plastered on her mocha face. “By chance do you know were my teacher, Kai may be?”

Adrien and Kai stood a fair distance away from the two women, their students. The ancient vampire chuckled, turning his head to his right. The Sheikah, Kai Awai, did not meet his fellow teacher’s gaze. He simply stared at their students, studying them as they entered the room. Neither could see their teachers. Kai’s face was as placid and impassive as ever.

“It seems that she’s mad at you,” said Adrien, still smiling at Kai. The Sheikah nodded, his expression never changing. They watched their students for a few more seconds. “Should we address them … or see how this works itself out?”

The left side of Kai’s lips curved up into a rare half-smile. His black eyes seemed soft and almost playful. “Let’s see how they do on their own.”

OoC: Okay! Heh, given the characters you both have … their teachers have decided to see if they simply will fight each other on their own. Sakume and Irva seem the kind that can get into fights easily … since they both have somewhat large egos and hot tempers. Their teachers will not be visible to them.

Sakume gets the first post. It doesn’t have to be long, but not too short. This is a good time to play with the length of your post. Usually longer posts tend to make the writer take control of the other player’s character too much. Try to stick to your character as much as possible (shorter posts make this easier). You both get to figure out how to do that. So, Sakume, it’s your turn. You can have your character respond to Irva. Let’s see how the two react to each other’s personalities. You don’t have to start fighting right away. Take your time. Play with your character’s pride and temperament. It makes things more interesting.

Sakume tensed greatly at the sensation of a finger on her shoulder. Not a soul had she ever allowed to touch her in years. This made her angry, and startled. Why didn’t she notice this person approaching? She should have heard them, after all, the keen senses of a werewolf were by no means easy to beat. She was getting to be too lazy these days. On the other hand, it may have been the fact that her thoughts were dull because of the moon’s current cycle. It was nowhere near full, or at least...last she knew, it wasn’t. How her milky skin yearned to bathe in the luminescent glow of the lovely sphere. Perhaps this dome was not the best idea after all.

Although she had to admit, the tasty, tantalizing thoughts of her brother writhing in agony did give her reason to stay. If she ever learned how her teacher handled that..."telekin..whatever it was." Her mind slowly registered what had been asked as her rough hands sulkily returned to her sides. “Your teacher? Now, why on earth would I give a…” It began to dawn on her that this darker-skinned woman had asked where her teacher was, for she had not entirely listened as the stranger spoke. Sakume had no idea where her teacher was either, though she hardly cared at the moment. She just wanted to find her way out, and tell him a thing or two. Didn't he know that she was a werewolf? Why, then would he have insulted her by giving her a pelt of her own kind? Pft...

Instead of merely letting her guard down, Sakume kept a steady spark of fire behind her dark eyes. “You have a teacher here as well?” She spat the remark as if she were a venomous snake. “Don’t answer. It doesn’t concern me. The answer to your question is no…” Smirking a cocky smile as she coolly approached the tanned woman, she leaned in closer, preparing for a pleasurable parting motion. With a sudden twist of her body, she flipped about, smacking her thin, though matted hair into Irva’s face. “By the way, don’t call me ‘madam’.”

OOC: This is going to be complete and utter bull crap because I am totally out of sync with this character right now.. And am really tired.

BIC: Irvanna’s gray eyes flicked about the figure of this woman affront of her. Taking in the hardened muscles and slightly ratted hair, it was clear this woman had seen battle before, and was only slightly better than dead. The Gerudo woman rolled her eyes, telling that this ***** had a bad attitude. The woman gave some venomous answer, malice portrayed brilliantly in her eyes. The woman then had the temerity to walk forward, chide her for being polite and flick her strand of rat’s nest in the Shiekah’s face.

Rage contorted the mocha face; gray oculars sparkled with electricity, a very storm cloud. Indignation swept raked the slim form of the Gerudo, and a hand went to the chain-mail scarf.

“What rash impudence you portray to an innocent stranger,” Irva scoffed, insult laden in her tone. “Apologize!”

OOC: Thank you for posting, Marius. :3 You made my day.

BIC: "For what?" Sakume snapped harshly, caring hardly at all for the stranger, especially her attitude back. Of course, Sakume made the first move, but that happened to be her nature. Survival of the fittest and all of those rules seemed to be the cornerstone of her beliefs. At least for now, they told her what she liked and didn't like.

She turned to face Irvanna, her own eyes burning into the Gerudo. Sakume had never found herself in the presence of this race before, so they were new to her. "You obviously have no idea of the person you are dealing with." She eyed the new person, an idea slowly unearthing within the muddled depths of her ingraved mind. Perhaps this meeting would turn out to be a test of some sort. After all, her encounters seemed to be plotted and staged.

"It would seem we are at an impass, and I have no intentions of allowing you to win." Sakume's hands slowly went for her claws, drawing the sharp steel blades and holding them steadily at her sides. She knew the Gerudo felt like fighting; she made no effort to halt this storm. Curiousity arose within her soul.

"You want to fight me, eh? Is that it, then? No introductions? You are like no race I have ever known before. Shouldn't you first state your name? Tell me about yourself. I wonder, perhaps, if you have a good reason to be here. Is your teacher as thick-headed and idiotic as mine? If so, it seems we have something in common. Oh, I never care for whether I hurt someone's oh-so-delicate feelings. I tell it like it is. Truthful is the best policy, wouldn't you say? To tell the truth about you, I don't trust you. Tell me more."

Irvanna’s gray eyes flashed coldly, the normal smoky gray now steely and hard. Dusky lips pulled back in a sneer, pearly tips of her teeth visible as the flesh that normally covered them receded in the facial expression. Her gently rounded chin was held high and to the side, strawberry locks resting against her back, the brass ring shining oddly in the unknown light source from its position nestled somewhere in her hair, holding her bangs out of her face. A long fingered hand rested firmly still on mesh scarf, tips of the appendages locked into the small opening in the centers of some of the metal links.

“I will not waste my time doing such a thing,” The Sheikah spat, voice emotionless, yet still maintaining a harsh edge. “There is no use in telling a dead person anything.”

The tail end of the mesh weapon hurtled through the air at the matted head of the werewolf, the links singing merrily through the air. Recoiling with a snap, the end of the weapon was caught in the assassin’s nimble mocha fingers. The other end coming free of its hand and swinging in a swift arc for the beast-woman’s feet which lay firmly upon the stark white floor. The assassin twisted in the opposite direction of her second attack, feet one over another, the heel of the right foot firmly pressed against the instep of the left, regaining the balance lost while doing the attack and bringing her weapon back to her hands.

The velveteen mist reached out to the dark recesses of Irva’s mind, the shifting shadows welcoming the Sheikah magic which lay inside her. The smoked ice oculars glazed over, a purplish black haze seemed to seep from the inky pupil, tendrils of darkness secreting from the very pores of the woman’s skin, embracing the shadows the half light and mist created. But it was too far away, and the power merely died, sinking back into her skin.

Disoriented for a moment, the Gerudo woman shook her head once, the strawberry curls flailing with the motion before falling flat once again against Irvanna’s exposed back. The haze in her usually smoky gray eyes withdrew upon itself, sinking back into the well of her coal black pupils. As if an instant realization hit her, the Assassin’s chin shot up, coffee lids coming down into a piercing glare ahead, the shining link of mesh held in both tactile hands at the woman’s well toned side.

OoC: <3 Here we go.

BiC: Deep, hazy eyes flickered as if still attempting to spark the flame of anger that lay dormant within her. The whistling of the scarf caused the werewolf to blink, but that was the only response. No intimidation crossed her mind as she ran a tongue over chapped lips, hugging her arms to her stomach as she overtook the performance of skill with her opponent’s weapon.

Greatly intrigued, Sakume extended a hand towards the weapon as it receded back into Irvanna’s grip. She narrowed her eyes slightly, cocking her head. “A scarf? Are you cold?” Slowly, with a determined grip upon her two weapons, Sakume drew them out. The three individual foot-length blades glimmered in the low lighting of the room, silent and deadly. Swinging her arms behind her back, a shrieking clash pierced the uncomfortable silence of the face-off. She reversed her swinging so that her weapons were revealed in front of her, clanging together in a way that nearly made her wince as a few sparks emitted from the metal conflicting.

She took a handful of her tangled locks and tossed them behind her velvety neck, which actually was quite strange considering the fact of her werewolf blood that ran in her veins. Normally lycans appeared gruff in every aspect of their physical structure, but she still seemed pretty, in a rough way. She almost winced as she took in the Gerudo’s shadowy powers, steady gaze studying the aura of darkness.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Sakume scoffed, looking about her for a moment, sniffing. The room carried a strange, rather piquant scent that wafted into her nostrils, making her slightly off-guard. She saw the Gerudo shake her head a little from one side to the other and pondered silently if she smelled it as well. The werewolf’s instincts instantly told her this opponent did not favor her. She didn’t particularly care; she had never found great friendship in anyone within this dome as of yet. Why would she expect to now? “I don’t even want to fight you. I have no grudge against you. Even if he ordered me to, I wouldn’t. I have no time for this.”

She then let her arms come to a stop near her sides, sinking down into a sitting position, her weapons lying at her side in a symbol of no threat. “That insult towards you was unneeded. I have no reason to be angry at you, miss.” She had suddenly lost all urge to fight this random opponent, strange, yes, but interesting. She placed a hand upon each knee as she folded her slender legs into an Indian-style rest. Her lips twitched upwards into what almost would seem a somewhat interested form of lesser smile. “I’m…” She paused, the word escaping her lips as if a breath on the wind, hardly audible to even her, though her lips could’ve been easily read as if they were a book. “Sorry.”

Adrien stared at his student in shock through the misty tunnel; his hazel eyes wide, his mouth opening slightly.

“My gods …” he said softly with disbelief. Sakume wasn’t going to fight Irva out of rage, which the vampire supposed was for the better. Enraged battle could led to accidents, like death. But that’s why the teachers sat quietly in the back ground to stop such things from happening. “She has even better self-control than Ren. I am a worse judge of character than I thought.” But he smiled despite that fact. He was glad that he was wrong about her.

His co-teacher remained silent, nodding. “We may have to step in now and explain the lesson,” replied Kai in his usual deadpan tone. His black eyes studying them emotionlessly, his arms folded over his chest. He was as still as a statue—hell, even a statue seemed to have more life than him. “They may be angry with us.”

Adrien nodded to his companion. But then he raised a curious eyebrow at the Sheikah. “By the way, perhaps you should tell Irva that you both have Sheikah blood. It would give you something in common with her and perhaps more friendly grounds,” the vampire suggested. His lips held a playful smile filled with warmth, contrasting his cold, pale face.

“Maybe,” Kai replied tonelessly. He turned his head slowly to face the scholar with his almost vacant gaze. “… Are you going to tell Sakume that you’re a vampire so that she can stop thinking that you’re a lycanthrope?”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows at him, frowning with confusion, and than raising a questioning brow. “She thinks I’m a lycanthrope?” His eyebrows wrinkled together again. “How did you know she thought I was one? I was not even aware.”

Kai simply tapped his temple with two fingers and then folded them back with his other arm. He turned his head back to stare at their students. He didn’t usually read other people’s minds unless he had to, but he had to be sure that Sakume wasn’t planning to murder his student and the thought of Adrien and passed through it as well. Perhaps because she had been feeling hostile about the fur coat the vampire gave her by accident. Hmmm, maybe he should warn Adrien about that as well.

Adrien gave Kai a shocked expression. “You read her mind? Kai …” He frowned disapprovingly at him. “Was that really needed?”

“Just checking her intentions—she didn’t like the fur coat.”

OoC: Heh, my little tid-bit, just because I’m a teacher doesn’t mean I won’t be joining you every now and then. Good work, Sakume and Marius. I’m glad to see that this is moving a long a little more quickly. I’m not one to bug you about time and all, since I slack off all the time myself. But try to learn from my bad example: do as I say, not as I do. Heh heh.

Nice twist Sakume, I wasn’t expecting that anymore than Adrien. Now, my advancies are going to be deeply studying their characters. It’s called character development. So I’ll be starting to bring certain things to your attention.

Now, Sakume, in an OoC in your next post after Marius’s, tell me why Sakume didn’t want to fight her and why she apologized. What caused these reactions in her?

Let’s see how Irva reacts, yeah? You’re up Marius.

Iridescent gray disappeared in a lue of black, expanding from the battle hardened pinpoint of coal embedded in the iris stormed with lightening of battle. The proud chin sunk slowly, pointing toward the stark white floor beneath her boots, the tawny leather like soft earth piled upon a marble counter, merely waiting for something to remove it, but no hand came to wipe it away. Curled locks of copper sweeping forward through the air, which was somehow thinning, becoming scarcer and harder to breathe, burning sand rose lips which were opened in a thin line, the tips of rounded ivory teeth peering from the edges.

Sorry. The word echoed through her mind. How could this beast of a thing be sorry? You do not apologize! Women are supposed to be proud, prideful warriors! No one had ever apologized to Irvanna before… What was she supposed to do. What reaction was dictated? How could she, a Gerudo Warrior merely be standing there shocked! DO SOMETHING! Her instincts as a warrior told her to kill this woman as she sat, the woman who had the sheer audacity to offend HER and then APPOLOGIZE!

The murderous glimmer in her eye died down, the faint sparkle retreating back into the midnight center which too was being swallowed by the cold gray of smoked ice. Yet it did not disappear, instead, the mere pinpoint of black seemed to boil brightly and then solidify as if molten lava turning into obsidian, razor sharp and hard. The sharp chin turned up once again, resolve etched into the clear mocha face.

“As I have said before,” Irva spat sharply, peering down her nose at the woman. “I do not wish to waste my time speaking to a dead, woman.”

The fluttering of her dress stopped as the Sheikha leapt into the air, the chain links of her weapon singing through the air. Her face turned away, sharp chin turned away, tresses of strawberry streaming, links of steel upon her forearms and shins gleaming like quicksilver against the brown of a her skin and raven of her dress as the silk pressed against her. And the fatal flash of her weapon cutting across the space between her and the woman was reflected in those cold hard eyes, the malicious glimmer lingering like fallen stars in the background.

OoC: Well, Sakume felt like fighting was pointless. She has never seen Irvanna before, she has no reason to fight her, and she doesn’t want to fight a random person. I think she’s beginning to think deeper about her past and if her past years have had a point as she’s slaughtered people. Perhaps she’s softened slightly…

Sakume remained in her mindful position, watching the Gerudo’s reactions in interest, a flicker of a smile nearly ready to appear on her lips, but faltering, like a candle in the wind’s grasp. Her gaze followed Irvanna’s towards the ground, now definitely smiling in an almost proud joy. “You look shocked.” Receiving no pleasure of an answer in return, she What else is she expecting? I apologized, for Christ’s sake! She had better damn well appreciate that. I have never said that sickening word to anyone in my life, why should she be the first? Sakume wished desperately she could discover an answer within her, but there remained no rest, no flickering of a possibility why she had said that.

Am I getting soft? No. I couldn’t be. Then why did I say that? Huh. That’s definitely weird. Lycans were amazing, strong, respected creatures; they weren’t supposed to apologize to anyone. Why should she start now? But the woman hadn’t shown any aggression. Well, she should be thankful.

“As I have said before,” Irva spat sharply, looking directly down upon the werewolf. “I do not wish to waste my time speaking to a dead, woman.”

A dead woman? What’s that supposed to mean? She still insults me? After all I’ve done for her! Sakume paused, blinking. Her instincts told her to jump. She did so, backwards, very quickly. A great surge of anger rushed through her blood; she parted her lips, revealing a very sharpened pair of fangs rather than human-like teeth. She leaped forward in a mad adrenaline spark. How DARE this woman attack her? After her apology? After she gave in so easily? Well, she wouldn’t allow it. No… They wouldn’t. She pushed herself towards the woman, ducking at the last moment and launching a hand forward to snatch her opponent’s arm.

Surprisingly to Sakume, her lust for vengeance took over her body it seemed, making her grip instead of her opponent’s arm, her throat, her lengthened fingernails nearly piercing the dark mocha flesh. Her near black orbs stared directly at the major vein, already through her fingers she could sense the life-giving liquid pumping through her opponent, faster than normal. A semi-evil smile crossed her lips as she increased her grip upon her opposition, squeezing with a greatly pleasing sensation of pleasure seething through seeing Irvanna in any sort of pain. “Attack me with no reason, will you?”

Adrien didn’t have time to respond to Kai’s comment about the fur coat. Irva attacked, which he quickly sensed. He jerked his head back over to their students. However, Kai was already reacting. He was not as foolish as to not check his own student’s intentions as well. His black eyes were closed. He reached inside himself, stretching for the pulse of warm energy. Upon grasping it, the energy surged out, into the stone under his feet. It flashed through the ground, unseen, for it was only his intention. It chased over to the two warriors.

The ground suddenly lurched under their feet. The molecules loosened to be the texture of fine sand. It rose up, swallowing the two, until it had absorbed them into the ground faster than quick sand. They were then stuck in it, only their necks and heads seen above the ground. Kai opened his eyes to see the results of his energy. The sand hardened a little, not enough to become stone, but just enough to hold them still.

Adrien had watched the ground gulp in their two pupils with ease. He had, too, felt Kai’s energy at work. So, with a soft frown, the vampire tucked his hands into his pockets, wandering out of the mist that veiled their student from them. Kai followed him shortly, also becoming visible to Sakume and Irva. The two teachers paced over to the imprisoned females. They stopped at the place where the ground had sucked them in, looking down at them.

Adrien squatted down to view them. His arms rested on his knees. His hazel eyes wandered over to Sakume. He was still frowning lightly. “Well … I suppose you’ve met your opponent, Sakume. This is Kai’s student, Irva. And this is Kai, my fellow teacher.” He lifted his pale, right hand to point up at the Sheikah above him.

OoC: M’kay, in turn, Marius, explain why Irva so coldly attacked Sakume even though she apologized.

(sorry this took so long)

The ground under her lurched and then melted, the thickness swallowing her legs, pressing against them. For a brief moment, Irvanna’s mind swept back to when she lived in the Gerudo Desert, the dunes piling down upon her, drowning her in their infinite weight. The grains filled her lungs, and this time, the hand of her mentor was not there to pull her from it. But yet, the grains of rock did not consume her, there merely stopped, right at the elbow, the bottom half of her scarf consumed in it also. Link glittering in the odd light of the place in which the Gerudo woman had unfortunately met the beast-like woman.

The dark clouds flashed with lightening, gathering around the black center of the storm, swirling in rage, power and malice emanating like powerful gusts of wind. The light brown lids narrowed the focus of the storm, and the haughty Sheikah; her teacher strolled from out of the mist, burrowing into his eyes with the intensity of a sand cloud in the Haunted Wasteland. Her hand twitched, straining against the restraining ground around her, and blackness consumed the storm in her eyes, the dark cortex, the window to the soul, expanding, wrath like tendrils of royal violet creeping from its edges.

Her attention was then drawn to the dead looking man kneeling near by. He was handsome in all respects, but the words he had uttered overshadowed all carnal wants of him.

“My opponent? This lowly, dishonorable, beast. She be not fit to even be killed by my hand, let alone spar with me!”, Irvanna thrashed in the ground, long tresses of strawberry lashing back and forth, as her went back in forth in her efforts.

“ If you release me, it will surely end in her death! I will not suffer the disrespect she has shown me, and as a Gerudo warrior, I will kill her for it! And if you do not release me immediately, it will be your last act also!”

OOC: Oh, well I thought the last bit told as why she had attacked, because Sakume had offended her, and the Gerudo being a proud race must enact vengence. As no one offends their honor.

Kai’s left hand jerked out to the side, as if an invisible cord were attached to his palm and the other end on Irva. It was not necessarily a needed motion to complete the action he wanted, it simply helped him focus his intention on what he wanted the stone, encasing the Gerudo, to do.

The jerk of his hand to his left yanked Irva apart from Sakume, but then the stone flooring melted inward, filling the cracked gap the separation had caused, so quickly, it seemed as if he had just made Irva move through a sea of white sand. His arm was fully extended, and then swung it up, bending it as if beckoning her to come to him. This made Irva’s stone casing move up and lifting her out of the ground, still held tightly by the stone.

The way it moved her seemed as if parts of it blended continuously from sand to solid stone and back again as the particles separated and grew close. It pushed her up, to face Kai at eye level. His pitch black eyes stared right into her intense gaze. He did not flinch. He didn’t move. His face was as expressionless as the stone that held her in place. However, in his eyes, there was a cold anger, which he pierced her back with. They were like cold black blades.

Kai was not a man to lose his temper. He was not even particularly angry. This was simply the best and probably only way for Irva to learn. It would be a cruel and hard lesson. It would only be even more difficult for her if she continues to struggle against it, like she has been. Adrien had been certainly more fortunate than Kai in receiving his student. Sakume was just starting to grow, change, and learn this lesson. Irva was still stuck.

He knew how the Gerudos used to be. Perhaps Irva was even from a different time dimension than he was. He knew the cruel and merciless thieves and often assassins they could be. He knew their ruthless nature that often was displayed in war. It is not hard to forget, that it was their race that slaughtered his. Their genocide against the Sheikah. Yet this girl was half Sheikah as well. Was she even aware of that? Did she even care? She seemed to title herself as a Gerudo, full, and not half Sheikah. Though, who was he to talk against that? He spoke of himself as a Sheikah, not a half Hylian breed. He supposed Irva has chosen the Gerudo ways over the Sheikah ones as he has chosen the Sheikah over the Hylian.

There is so much for this one to learn.

“Lowly?” said Kai, his words barely even a whisper but he knew she heard them. There was no malice in his voice, just a coldness. Cold as stone. “Dishonorable? Disrespect? … It sounds more as if you are talking of yourself, Irva. You are very mistaken. It is you who is not fit to be killed by her hand. You delude yourself,” continued the Sheikah, never breaking his gaze with her. “How can you kill her if I do not release you? How will you kill me if I do not release you? You forget in whose hands you are in. I could kill you.” He said this with his usual monotone voice. Cold. Unfeeling. Yet it was obvious that he was very sincere.

He started to slowly clench his fist. As his hand closed, the stone tightened around her, starting to compress her slowly. It groaned softly as it did, creeking. Kai never removed his gaze from hers. “Or maybe … you have something up your sleeve, Irva, of which I am not aware of? If so, feel free to strike at me as you had promised if I did not release you. Because I have no intention of doing so just yet.”

Adrien watched Kai do this without surprise. He simply stared, frowning at Irva as he had softly frowned at Sakume.

OoC: Okay, breaking the cycle. I felt like posting. Deal with it.

Marius, you did not explain Irva’s actions like I had asked you to in my previous post. Edit it and add that in.

Sakume watched the events unfold before her, and one sentence ran through her mind. Serves you right. Her ears twitched ever so slightly as she listened carefully to Kai’s words, so cold and graven, almost causing her to shiver, if she could have. You tell her. You give her all she’s deserving of. Right on! She paused all of a sudden. Wait a second… what’s he doing to her? She watched as the imprisonment of Irva began to squeeze around her, locking her within and slowly crushing the woman. It paused as he began to speak again.

Sakume looked up at her “teacher” for a few moments, blinking innocently, very unhappy to be stuck in the ground. “Hey.” She spoke, demanding his attention, which was given to her, although not quite in the way she wanted.

Sakume had always been used to getting her way. It was only now she was beginning to realize that there were things larger than her at stake, things that she needed to care for. The world was not revolving around her; in fact, she was such a small part of the universe.

She thrashed a little, and then simply flailed like a fish out of water, her scraggly brown hair becoming more tangled in the process. What sort of sorcery is this? She asked herself, quite puzzled. She hated being so trapped, so unable to do anything about her situation, unable to free herself. Plus her nose really itched, and she couldn’t scratch it. This alone infuriated her, as this feeling was possibly the worst to have in this situation. Suddenly, her nose wrinkled slightly. Besides her view of the world growing while she was here, she had also been unknowingly increasing in her werewolf abilities. She sensed something about Adrien, something she hadn’t sensed before. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

“… You’re not one.” She stated softly, her eyes downcast. How could I have been so stupid?

“I’m sorry; I didn’t know you thought that.”

She glanced up at him, surveying him, an overwhelming sense of hurt welling up inside her. Am I that desperate? For even a friend? Weakness, isn’t it? Bah. “Don’t be. It was foolish of me. I won’t fight her, Adrien.” She used his name, probably, at least to her recollection, for the first time. “I won’t. I don’t care if she’s my opponent or not. I can’t fight her like this. Don’t force me, please.” He probably didn’t understand why she asked this. It was a deep-rooted feeling, something she could not really explain. “… Don’t you feel it?” She asked, looking up, not quite in his eyes, but rather just towards the white skyline. “Even if you are a vampire… My hated enemy… I don’t hate you. And it’s so strange. To think of. Why I don’t. How can that be, Adrien?”

She paused for another moment before continuing to talk. “I’m sorry, for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I know I should not hate him, somewhere. Somehow, deep inside, something is telling me something. But I can’t listen to it. It’s so numb… So numb I can barely feel it anymore. Is it because of me? …” She seemed to be talking to no one now, just speaking freely in a soft, trance-like voice. “Is it because of something I’m doing? Can it be forgiven? Does it deserve it?” She sank her head down, her brown hair forming a curtain to frame it. “… So many questions.”

Originally Posted by Marius

OOC: Oh, well I thought the last bit told as why she had attacked, because Sakume had offended her, and the Gerudo being a proud race must enact vengence. As no one offends their honor.

That's just fine, Marius, thanks ^^

Good work, Sakume, I'll have Adrien respond to that in a minute. But for now let's have Marius catch up with us.

(Sorry I've taken so long to respond. I usually do.)

The billons of grains slowly squeezed against her. Creaking, a horrible moaning sound which reverberated in her head. She could barely feel her limbs, the sharp tingling fading away to nothingness. The immense weight upon her body was like being choked by an immense snake, as it wound its way around your body, and squeezed until your guts erupt from your throat, and your head pops off.

The deep purple spilled out of the midnight pupil, leaking, oozing, in all directions like blood spilling against smoked glass. Soon the iris was enveloped, tendrils furtively poking into the whites, like a tentacled arm of some dark beast. Once they advanced no further, the creepers swished back and forth, as if feeling for something, copying the direction of the power which slowly sought for the shadows of this place.

And the shadow was found, as Irvanna had been brought up and over to her teacher, light had been blocked out under her by the strange protrusion of the ground, forming a small pool of darkness. Her consciousness stroked the darkness, feeling it awaken under her, ready to be molded to her will, swirling and condensing, growing darker and smaller with each passing second, the attack nearly ready.

“I have nothing up my sleeve, teacher. But I do have something, under my sleeve,” The Sheikhan woman managed to say with effort, grunting after each word as the sand slowly constricted around her, also pulling the long curly tresses of strawberry, as they were caught also in the sand around her back. Her throat slowly becoming more and more exposed, as her chin lifted up, catching the light which radiated from some unknown source. The sides of which, were pulsing up and down as the thick veins underneath pumped more and more blood as the muscle struggled to supply the body parts which were under so much pressure, that even the capillaries were depressed.

Then the small ball of shadow darted from under her, comet-like, a trail of dissipating energy lagging behind it to stain the very air, aiming its self for the man’s crotch. But Kai was far beyond the woman’s meager magical abilities, and simply looked at the shadow-ball, and it disappeared.

“That was nothing to be proud of,” he stated, continuing to increase the pressure upon the woman.

Irvanna could barely breathe, the pressure had popped every joint on the woman’s body, and re-aligned her spine, thus creating a near perfect flow of energy through her charkas, but never the less, the woman was powerless. Nothing she could do would save her, nothing she could do could kill this man. Her pride would be the death of her, the ancient Gerudo codes of honor would never let her give in, even if it did mean her death.

But what had these codes ever done for her? What did tradition mean to her? Aside from being raised under them, having a culture which loved her, and being exiled from everything she had ever known if she broke those codes. But if she died, it would not matter. Her brethren were already angered with her for leaving to search for her father, if they did not support her in such a venture, were they even worth having?

These thoughts slowly broke down the very basis of the world upon which Irva lived, the instinct to stay alive slowly and surely prevailing over most everything she had learned. Thick tears trailed down her cheeks, glistening upon the mocha of her skin, to pool gradually upon her chin in a thick drop.

“I cry your pardon,” the assassin woman choked.

EDIT: Changed those things I hope your satisfaction.

Originally Posted by Marius

The deep purple spilled out of the center, leaking, oozing, in all directions like blood spilling against smoked glass. Soon the iris was enveloped, tendrils furtively poking into the whites, like a tentacled arm of some dark beast. Once they advanced no further, the creepers swished back and forth, as if feeling for something, copying the direction of the power which slowly sought for the shadows of this place.

Okay, Marius, I've been noticing this a couple of times. You start out describing and such but I don't get exactly what you are describing until later, and even then I'm not absolutely sure. You need to point out that you're describing Irva's eyes ... you are describing her eyes, right? Tell me what you're describing while you're describing it. This has been too confusing. Edit it that and make it clearer.

And they were found, as Irvanna had been brought up and over to her teacher, light had been blocked out under her, forming a small pool of darkness. Her consciousness stroked the darkness, feeling it awaken under her, ready to be molded to her will, swirling and condensing, growing darker and smaller with each passing second, the attack nearly ready.

Do that with this too. I get it better than the first one, but it's still too confusing.

But what had these codes ever done for her? What did tradition mean to her? Aside from being raised under them, having a culture which loved her, and being exiled from everything she had ever known if she broke those codes. But if she died, it would not matter. Her brethren were already angered with her for leaving to search for her father, if they did not support her in such a venture, were they even worth having?

These thoughts slowly broke down the very basis of the world upon which Irva lived, the instinct to stay alive slowly and surely prevailing over most everything she had learned. Thick tears trailed down her cheeks, glistening upon the mocha of her skin, to pool gradually upon her chin in a thick drop.

“I cry your pardon,” the assassin woman choked.

This is good but we still need to do some thorough thinking when it comes to changes in a character. This is my advancy class. We focus on character development, how to do it, and how to do it right.

First what we need to think about here: Is this realistic? Would this really push her past traditions and beliefs she has been taught since birth? Was she already beginning to doubt in the first place, and now this is just the breaking point? If so, how long has she been doubting them? See, this is a big change, and it's kind of unrealistic for such a big change to happen so suddenly. I imagine she would have had these doubts for a while. Maybe even subconsciously. It's big change, Marius. Of course, this could just be the start of her change too. She'll probably still struggle with her pride after this? Maybe have trouble adjusting after losing faith in something she has believed in her whole life?

So, Marius. Your next post is to describe to me what's going on with Irva. Answer some of these questions for me. Tell me more about her past and how it's led up to this changing point.

Originally Posted by Sakume

Well, Sakume felt like fighting was pointless. She has never seen Irvanna before, she has no reason to fight her, and she doesn’t want to fight a random person. I think she’s beginning to think deeper about her past and if her past years have had a point as she’s slaughtered people. Perhaps she’s softened slightly…

Sakume looked up at her “teacher” for a few moments, blinking innocently, very unhappy to be stuck in the ground. “Hey.” She spoke, demanding his attention, which was given to her, although not quite in the way she wanted.

Sakume had always been used to getting her way. It was only now she was beginning to realize that there were things larger than her at stake, things that she needed to care for. The world was not revolving around her; in fact, she was such a small part of the universe.

She thrashed a little, and then simply flailed like a fish out of water, her scraggly brown hair becoming more tangled in the process. What sort of sorcery is this? She asked herself, quite puzzled. She hated being so trapped, so unable to do anything about her situation, unable to free herself. Plus her nose really itched, and she couldn’t scratch it. This alone infuriated her, as this feeling was possibly the worst to have in this situation. Suddenly, her nose wrinkled slightly. Besides her view of the world growing while she was here, she had also been unknowingly increasing in her werewolf abilities. She sensed something about Adrien, something she hadn’t sensed before. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

Okay, Sakume, it's your turn. Basically the same thing I was telling Marius. Is this realistic for such drastic changes to be happening so quickly? How long has Sakume been ignorant, selfish, and ... well how long has she been a bad person? (To put it in simple terms.) If she's been like this for a while, don't you think it would take a little while for her to be changing like this?

I need you to explain in a post as well, what's going on in Sakume's head. What happened in her past and such to make her like she was? Why is that changing now, and ask yourself if it's realistic.

No in character posts for this. I just need you two to do this little assignment about your character; we'll discuss them more and then move on when we're ready. No posting order, just post it when you finish it.

Hm. Well, Sakume has never been all that bad. It’s more of a show that goes too far, so to speak. She’s really a relatively nice, loyal person, inside her outer shell. She just has a very big mouth and an incredibly hot temper, things that don’t mix together well. As to when her opinions changed, and her selfishness began, it was really around the time she was six or seven. Sakume had always been selfish, but when her parents actually “died,” she was only three; she had to think for a few years before deciding what she believed happened rather than the truth.

The mind is a powerful thing, and in her situation, she saw what happened in her own mind’s eyes, and refused to believe anything else. After so long (I’m going to say again around nine), she actually decided to take it into her hands, become a “vigilante” if you will, even if it meant killing others on the way to killing her brother. She sees the situation as if she kills him, everything will be solved, since “he caused everything.” What she decided happened was the wolves coming to kill her parents, but her brother doing nothing to stop them. Her sister, of course, followed suit, and for this, she was outraged.

These doubts and realizations that her brother may be telling the truth about what happened have only begun to hit her hard more recently. Especially since she killed her older sister, Yosuke (as mentioned in the one-shot you made us post a while ago), not only guilt has hurt Sakume, but also fear. She has begun to wonder about her beliefs since then, which would have been about three years ago.

She’s also terribly lonely due to her harsh appearance and attitude, so that explains her natural need for company and therefore her mixing up of Adrien for a werewolf. Also, that post earlier in which she found herself in the company of a man was supposed to represent something of her dream world. She’s begun to realize that if she remains the way she is now, nothing will change. She doesn’t really like the life she’s living now, and although she’s known this for some time, she’s probably been holding out, hoping it will get better in time, or that she simply gets to get used to it. In short, Sakume wants more from life than what she’s getting now, and if that means she has to change, then she’s willing to try after seeing holding out isn’t really working. Her stubbornness is pulling on one arm and her conscience is pulling on the other.

When it comes to changing now, I believe it’s at least somewhat realistic. If I killed my own sister, I’d wonder if what I was doing was right anymore, too. Or if it was ever right to begin with. Since Sakume’s family was Catholic growing up, she’s also hit hard by her religious beliefs, although by now she would probably think she was damned to hell anyway. She knows killing is defined as wrong in the world’s views, but she feels that, if it’s for the greater good, and people stand in her way, they must be eliminated.

She has also stumbled upon the realization that killing her brother will not bring her parents back from the dead. She knows she was young at the time it happened, and although she has formed a scene of what happened in her head, she also is aware of her age at the time. She was only three, and this means she could have easily disproportioned the actual event. Altogether, Sakume doubts, but at the same time, she has come too far to give it all up now. She has to do it. Unless, by some miracle, something stops her. Even if that something is herself.