"Junko! Dinner's ready!" her mother called. The little girl lept up from the couch, dropping about five crayons into a small pile and tottered into the kitchen, just managing to climb up onto the dining tables chair. She was met with the sight of temaki zushi, a form of 'make your own sushi'. Her mother had insisted that once a week they have japanese cuisine to keep Junko in touch with her homeland. Junko didn't mind, she loved it. Her father walked in with water, giving the girl her own small glass, laughing at the eager childs seriousness as she tried to fit a bit too much rice on a small piece of nori.

Dinner was well underway. The room was warm, lit with soft light and laughter. Outside in the summer air you could hear cicadas easing off for the night. Junkos parents chatted happily, while the 6 year old dedicated her attention to her food, makeing sure to use plenty of japanese mayo.

"Junko," she girl looked up, her father was resting on her hands, fingers laced together, looking thoughtful, but not without a smile, "if you to put,let's say, five heros around the world who don't know their destiny, and to wake up with no memories, where would you put them?" as strange as the question sounded, Junko was used to it. "Like Digimon?The DigiDestined?" "Yes, like the DigiDestined" Junko stopped to think. Her first thought was the current states of goverment of each major country, and how hard it would be to do this is secret. Her next, the mission of the 'heros' and lastely, the number.

She was a smart 6 year old.

"I would start..."

Junko woke up. She didn't wake up with a jolt, more of a fade into reality. She became aware that Ananaius was awake, so didn't hesitate in getting up and streaching. She didn't like to be the first up. She got up, aiming to go say good morning to Ananaius by the river but a blood ruch to the head followed by a little 'thump' in her skull alerted her she had a headache. She wandered over to Ananaius, light enough to make little sound, not wanting to wake the last member, but dizzy enough to find the task difficult. About half way there, she sneezed, just lightly, follwed by her usual profanities as the small jolt only increased her head ache.

"Damn you," her her first mornings words to Ananaius, "thanks to your little midnight swim and having to get you out of this thing," she pointed to the river, "I have a bloody cold." Junko had an exceptional immune system but she was nothing against general weariness and the cold. Muttering a small, "you owe me, again" she wandered back to Jacob, poking him in the side with her foot.

Jacob was walking down a dark corridor, the faint smell of rust and mildew in the air. It was darker than night in the cavernous ruin of stone and steel, as if a veil was placed over the eyes of anyone who dared enter. It was like the place itself wanted to hide the secrets of the past. Two distinct sets of footsteps rung through the long hall, keeping even the slow drip of water from above hidden to Jacob's ears.

"Jacob," said a familiar husky voice to his side, "you know the only reason that you are here is because I am here with you. Do not touch anything."

"Father, I know that," Jake replied, smiling as he looked into the shadows to his left. He had heard the legends that occupied this place, and of the truths that it hid. It was his father, after all, who was in charge of keeping the secrets that were hidden inside this crypt-like building. Besides, why would you touch an artifact over a hundred years old without any reason to do so?

Jacob then felt a sharp pain in his side before the memory disappeared from view. 'That is strange, he thought as he opened his eyes, 'I do not remember my side hurting.'

A blur surrounded him, his mind still mostly asleep. He could just make out the form of a girl standing in front of him, her posture just noticable as someone who was almost as tired as Jake felt. "Dammit. Why did you have to wake me up."

"Oh shut up," Junko half growled half yawned, walking back to her bass. She spent 10 minutes, checking her intrument over. It may not be very helpful but like any sword that needed sharpening, she would tune it every second day, care for it then put it away until she felt she needed to calming cool metal and hollow sounds again.

Her dreams were still fresh and vivid in her mind, seeing as they were made mostly of memories. She smiled a little when she though of her old favourite cartoons. Again, true to her origins, her T.V veiwing had been dominated by japanese cartoons and dramas. The wild ideas and strange themes of the show only wound her thoughts up tighter, making her imagine the impossible. Which right now, seemed like mere childs play.

"Oi! Ananaius!" Junko called out, sneezing once in the middle of her sentence, "how long did you say..where we going again? And how long is it?" Junko asked. She wasn't one for place names unless it mattered. Then again, she wasn't one to remember much unless she found it mattered. She sat down, waiting, now fully awake but rather dizzy, the getting up and down and the morning chill not helping the onset of a cold. Never the less she went on.

“With my sword?” he cut her off after he realized that he used his second CONSTRUCT in front of her. He though about it for a minute and he figured that he might as well tell his new companion about his weapons. “My sword and the gauntlet on my arm are called CONSTRUCTS. They are more cyber-organic pieces of technology that allow me to fight in all combat situations.” He continued to tell her more about his weapons and occasionally he would show her examples such as morphing it into the rifle that killed the wolf and the crossbow that decapitated the bear.

As the night wore on, Brea and Yud-Gimel decided that they needed to get their rest so Brea laid down and went to sleep. Yud decided to walk around the cave to take his mind off of the uneasy feeling that was inside his chest. He couldn't help but feel that he was forgetting something...."D37!!" he exclaimed realizing that his objective was to locate D37 before all else. Well it's too late to continue my journey now so I will wait until the morning and then Brea and I can head to the city of Damascus. Perhaps I can find some information there that will lead me to him.

Several hours went by and the sun had made its way into the sky. He decided that 10hrs of sleep was more than enough for Brea so he woke her up and told her that they needed to get going. He made sure that he had gathered all of their belongings and he put out the fire and buried it so as not to leave any traces of their being there. "We are heading to Damascus city and hopefully we won't run across anymore of those traps from yesterday." They moved deeper into the forest and the longer they traveled the wider the gaps between the trees became. "I think we might be coming to a clearing soon, and maybe there we can get a better grip on our surroundings." As he said this, the woods almost stopped entirely as the worn trails of the forest became dirt trodden roads.

As he looked with his right eye to the north, he said "If I'm not mistaken that is Damascus" as he pointed to a barely visible dot on the horizon. "We should be able to get there by nightfall if we continue to walk without any interruptions." He verbally commanded DELTA to morph into the greaves and with that he took Brea and wrapped her around his back and began to sprint towards the ever-nearing city.

Yud's explanation of his CONSTRUCTS were more than entertaining to Brea and made her sleepy. A sword that turned into a rifle or crossbow should have been exciting, but she had enough to fulfill her imagination before the transformation display; with his eye made of cybernetics and such.Thus, it did not amaze her that the sword could have such unique powers. She felt as though she had seen it before. Brea dozed off, without saying goodnight, on top of the leafage Yud had prepared for her.

She awoke to the sounds of Yud's movement around the campfire; rustling leafs and scuffling earth. She saw that he was gathering his belongings. As soon as he noticed her looking at him, he mentioned that they needed to be going, if they were to reach Damascus before nightfall. He was wary of more traps, looted in the deepening forest like the death pit of spiked bamboo. Brea would be thankful if there were any such traps similar to the one they ran across. They would give her another chance to be close, real close, as she imagined the traps would do; as if the traps, themselves, were merely fixed for the sole purpose to draw them closer together.

Soon enough she was wide awake and was ready to go. Yud signaled her to follow and off they went, further into the forest. The deeper parts of the forest lightened up as the sun gained more access through the canopy. Brea noticed the forest floor was changing to more and more dirt trails. The pillars of the woods became less and soon enough they were in a clear spot and no longer in the forest. Yud stopped and so did Brea. He scanned the vastness of the plains and then announced that he could see the city of Damascus. After the words of enlightenment, he grabbed her hand and began running.

It's been a long time since she had ran that fast and she could barely keep up. Yud pulled her to him and she obliged by wrapping her legs around his hips and pressed herself to him. Her arms were loosely swooped around his neck and her legs had completely enthralled his tightened, overworked abdomen. As he sprinted closer to Damascus, her heart began getting closer to him. He was warm, or at least his cape was from the heat. The pit of her stomach caught the nauseous roller coaster feeling and she felt completely out of control. All that controlled her was the air and Yud's strong lean and fit body. The wind blew her hair and allowed the sun to glisten against her forehead. The numerous sweat beads individually rolled around her brow, from the airflow and sparkled with the pure heat of the shining sun above them. Her sweat dripped meaninglessly and had become part of his uniform; like a beautiful and vibrant life that has fallen to an untimely and sporadic death.

Ananaius looked at the others and their squabbling and sighed.

“The city of Damascus is, by my estimates, half a day’s journey from here. We should get going if we want to find a place to sleep for the night once we get there” he said whilst gathering his things for the journey. He waited for the others to do the same. He spotted a urchin like flower that he recognized to be wild Echinacea. “If you chew on this your should feel better sooner than later” he said handing the center part of the flower to a skeptical looking Junko. “It’s bitter but it will help your cold get better faster” he said with a slight chuckle. “If we follow the river southward we should get there sometime around mid-afternoon.” He thought back to his first trip to Damascus two years ago.

It had been on his first excursion to the emperor’s palace that he had first entered the city of Damascus. It was this city that was the "head end" of the emperor's highway. The sights of so many people, the smell of exotic foods, and the street performers not to mention the unintentional exhibitions put on by the interesting people just going about there daily lives. It was a town with two faces; one of them vibrant and free breathing, and the other cold and clinging to the final strands of life. The gold district, as it was called, was the newer part of town, and it held the all the high end inns and gambling halls. The older half of town was known as ghost town, not because it was deserted, but because the people that went there were “ghosts” trying to escape their past. “This part of town” he told Junko “is where we would get any information if it is to be had.” It was this part of town that Ananaius had first come into on his journey. This was where he had come upon his first duel.

A man had stumbled from a bar and bumped into Ananaius on the street.
“You should watch where yar goin baee. Yar libal ta git hurt” he mumbled as he took a swing at Ananaius. Instinctively he side stepped and kicked him into the dirt.
This was no duel to be sure. It was just then a tall man with a tall fur covered hat walked out of the same bar that the obviously inebriated man had stumbled from.

“You shouldn’t be messing with my brother like that” he said in a cold tone that chilled Ananaius to the bone. From the clarity of his speech and the coordination of his movements, It was obvious that either he had a higher tolerance for alcohol than his brother or he had not consumed as much. Whichever it was, it was irrelevant now that he was drawing his sword in challenge to Ananaius. Swinging the large blade over his head he howled an incoherent treat in a tone that likened him to a wild animal. Ananaius taken slightly aback by this sudden outburst slowly slid his sword from its sheath, precisely timing a block over his shoulder and seamlessly chaining it into slice under his arm and severing it cleanly at the shoulder. This sudden burst of skill had overwhelmed Ananaius almost as much as it did the man who now lay writhing on the ground like a decapitated snake. He cleaned the blood from his sword and left the man. He didn’t know what to do.

He told them about his experiences in Damascus, leaving out the details of his fight with the strange tall man. He told them of the bizarre like street market in the east part of the gold district and the rumors of some of the criminals that made there home in the ghost town. He told them this as they made their way down the river, each movement caring them nearer to the city.

Junko liked the sound of the gold district, taking a moment to explain the equivilant in her time, red light districts. "I happen to be a bit of a gambler my self, nothing more relaxing than counting cards. There's also a really fun gambling game in japan, even and odds. The shaker would throw the dice bouncing all around the room only to catch them without moving. Ofcourse, I won big with that as well. Basic physics, y'know" she laughed. Even more so, Junko liked the idea of a nice place to sleep, a lovely bed, feather pillows, heck, she would settle with a futon. Though she knew she had to go to the so called ghost town, she made a mental note to try and coax the two boys into a warm inn, considering using the foul taste of the flower as an escuse of some sort.

Junko wasn't weak or unhealthy but she did hate walking along the cobbled river banks, the uneven ever-moving path making her feet ache, the weight of her bass only adding to it. While she was fairly sure she could guilt trip one of the boys into carrying her instrument but her over protective almost mother like attatuid towards it held her back. Instead she trooped on, not saying a thing about it.

As the town came into view Junkos grin lit up. She could easily see the 'gold district' and she couldn't help but make a small high pitched happy sound, smiling broadly. She loved nothing more than civilsation, even though she were home schooled, her parents often took her to her mothers high class buisness parties. Although she did not work often, working from home, her mother held a rather importance place in the buiness sector of her father work. The rare moments where the whole family left the house together, they were often at these parties. Junko had quickly picked up on who to smile to, who she could look down on and who she could blackmail, and took full advantage of all three. It was these parties that even gave birth to her gambling talent.

Her lifted spirits dumbed the taste of the plant and shoved her cold away for a later date. She hummed her favourite songs and chatted lightly,with her usual bouts of playful sarcasm, uplifted since meeting Ananaius and Jacob.

After being sure to pack a large slab of the smoked meat that lay abandoned by the dying embers for their journey, Jacob followed the two without complaint, seeing that they already had a plan on where they were going to head next. In the rejuvenated logical part of Jacob's brain, where they went was not really up to him, who was almost an outsider compared to Ananaious and Junko, who seemed to get along very well indeed. It was his duty to just keep his mouth shut and go with what they said if he wanted to keep the sense companionship that he craved after traveling so very long alone.

"You know, I never particularly liked gambling," He commented upon hearing the word, leaving his face mostly expressionless. In truth, he envied the people who could con their way into other people's money. Jacob had never been much of a gambler himself, and in his village, was often taken advantage of when it came time for his father's gambling buddies to come around. Memories flashed in front of his eyes, remembering the heat of his father's chambers as his large and ruffled subordinates beat him roll after roll, hand after hand. No matter the game he played, he always lost to them, but worst of all was that these memories were the memories of his father, consoling him after he lost all of his money, sneaking him helpful hints and confident smiles from beside him.

A single tear trickled down his cheek and into the rocky riverbed under their feet as Jacob performed a silent vigil for his father inside of his head.

The city grew closer and closer. They came upon a post-n-lintel sign indicating that it was in fact, Damascus. Brea could see lots of people and plenty of things to do. Inns and brothels were labeled upstairs on top of the bars and gambling resorts that littered the ground on the left. There were all kinds of people doing things of all sorts for money on the right: jugglers, sword swallowers, fire breathers, freak and animal shows. Also, there was a road in the middle dividing the two parts of town rightfully entitled, “The Emperor’s Highway.” At the end of this road was a huge fortress that held some form of royalty, Brea gathered, in its innards. She needed things and had little time to do so. When they came to the city, she explained to Yud her predicament, pointing towards an inn nearby. She needed clothes and a place to stay. With a nod and a turn, she disappeared into the crowd.

She headed to the bar and inn that was in the closest proximity. Brea walked in and after she faded out of the sunlight and into view, the men stared every inch of the beautiful delicatessen that had entered their domain. A thick grey cloud covered the inside and it flourished with smoke. She walked to the bartender, bought a room upstairs for the night and headed out of the tavern.

She walked the main drag toward the castle. There were shabby stands and kiosks selling various miscellaneous nic-nacs and valuables to the left and right of the palace. She saw a tan beige back-pack that caught her eye. It was hemp-made and fit her body perfectly. She bought it. There was a place for her sword, she tied it against the bag and slipped it on. The scabbard wasn’t where she had expected it to be. Accidentally falling into where she would keep it from now on. It had fallen upside down and diagonally across her back. She later gathered clothes and put several small medical items and food supply into her back-pack. She headed back to the bar and inn, fearing passive, perverted confrontation with the men.

There were few men inside the bar and the smoke had let out. She quickened her climb to the top of the stairs that lead to a hallway of locked doors. She approached her door, unlocked it, and went into the empty room. She tossed everything aside and walked toward the bed to throw herself on top of it, but she was forced to the bed sheets in a heap of hurried footsteps and grabby hands. She panicked and everything became death to her. She escaped and turned. She confronted the men and calmed down. There were five of them. Her blood pressure fell and she blacked out. Suddenly everything became death to them.

One man was thrown out of a window. Another was slammed into a wall, leaving a bloody facial indentation and the man unconscious and toothless. The taller man had his knees kicked in and neck snapped; A flurry of action as if it were. Someone grabbed her arm from behind. She instantly turns, grabs his forearm and heavy kicks his shoulder, tearing his arm out of socket beyond repair with a deep cracking sound in pursuit. There was one left.

She pinned him against the wall with out touching the man.

Once in the city Brea wasted no time in telling him what her plans were, and while he glanced at his surroundings, she vanished. He was slightly confused at this new situation, but thanks to her pointing out the inn where she would take lodging he would find her after he gathered some information. Yud went through the town seeking any ideas on the whereabouts of his comrade. "The battle between us and ANGELS is progressing" he thought to himself "and if i don't find D37 soon we just might lose" The expressions on his face of contentment and curiosity quickly turned to disgust and anger as stand after stand, person after person had not seen a person with the same tattoo that was on his left arm. "I am running out of time"

Finally, his anger got the better of him when he went into a very shabby, rundown looking bar. "Has anyone seen a man about my age with this mark on his arm?" he said this aloud as he showed his tattoo again. "Aye, I saw a man with that mark" said a man sitting at the bar surrounded by three men of sizable builds. Sudden excitement hit Yud as the thought of finding D37 teased his mind. "Really? Where? When? Was he alive?" Yud sounded winded as he asked these questions. The man started chuckling "He was alive when i met him...but he ain't no more" The three men started laughing hysterically at the remark made by their "leader" and after hearing this Yud lost all control.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!!"

Yud bolted across the bar towards the man only to catch a fist in his stomach by what appeared to be the biggest man in the group. Yud coughed hard as the fist hit him in abdomen, and without a moments delay he back flipped to get away from the man and regain his composure. "You obviously don't know who i am kid. My name is Damien Cross, and I am the most wanted man in this whole city." Yud looked at the man with hate and aggression in his eyes. "Obviously, you don't know who I am," Yud snapped back at the man "I am D13 and I will be your judgment." As he said this Yud shot across the room with such an incredible speed that the naked eye couldn't keep up and shoved his sword upwards through the skull of the man that hit him. "I will avenge my friend and may God have mercy on your souls." Yud couldn't control himself, it was as if his emotions were guiding him through his actions. He swung his sword backwards and impaled a second of the men and pulled the sword down slicing the man in half.

People screamed and fled the bar as the fight inside raged on. Damien had at this point pulled out a gun and shot Yud several times all of which were in his torso. Blood drenched the floor and bar top as two of the four men lie dead. Yud then morphed his sword into what appeared to be a very small, hand held cannon. He opened fire on the third man and splattered him across the wall in a style that Picasso would have found magnificent. All that remained was Yud and Damien, and after seeing the carnage left in Yud's wake Damien began to cry uncontrollably. "I was only kiddin..*sob*.. I ain't never...*sob* seen that mark until today." Yud walked over to Damien and put his left hand over his face. "Would you like a moment to repent?" Damien's screams were heard outside the bar by all bystanders, and only Yud and the fly on the wall had seen what happened to Damien. Yud walked out of the bar and threw down Damien's headless corpse. "I apologize for the mess" Yud said to the bartender who happened to be peeking out from behind a trashcan. "Hopefully this will cover any damages" and Yud threw a small sack full of money to the man which he had procured from Alvis. Yud then decided to head back to Brea, he needed to see a glimmer of light in this incredibly bleak world.

Upon returning to the bar, where Brea was staying, he saw a man fly out of a window and without a moments hesitation he ran through the door and up the stairs to the room where he had just seen the body come from. As Yud opened the door he saw a man flailing against the wall as if someone was holding him there , but there wasn't a person near him. All Yud saw was Brea standing on the other side of the room staring at the poised man. "What's going on here?" As he said this Brea looked at him and the man slid down the wall and ran out the door.

As the group made their way down stream, fueled by venison and anticipation of a comfortable place to stay, Ananaius continued to describe the city of Damascus. He spoke of the division of the gold district into two distinct areas, the first being a bazaar type market place, and the second a collection of inn/pubs and gambling halls. He told them of the lavish hotel/bathhouse at the end of the emperor’s way in the center of town called The Golden Palace. This was the place where the emperor stayed when in town and also the headquarters for the Santos clan which held dominance in the Damascus. The lord of the clan was one of the emperor’s most fiercely loyal Sheriffs, and his deputies enforced the emperor’s laws as if they were an irresistible divine mandate. The Sheriff’s name was Boné Santos, a name which struck fear into the hearts of the men he self righteously called “sinners”. There had been rumors recently however that his usually religious centurion vigil of the city had been reduce to isolated appearances but it was yet to be seen if this was anything more than idle talk. He told them there were two types of people that live in the city; people that run the gold district, and people who have something to hide. Through the course of their conversing the journey passed almost without notice, and before long they found themselves entering the northern portion of the city.
The air was ripe with the smell drunkenness and decaying wood. The disrepair of the buildings and the obvious lack of planning in building placement resulted in a depressing and confusing cityscape in which one could get lost in mind and body. The streets were not too busy this time of day, as most of the residents were at work in the gold district.
“This is obviously ghost town” he said in response to the palpable disappointment of his comrades. “The gold district is to the south of here, but while we’re here we might as well get some drinks while they’re still cheap” he said motioning to a nearby saloon.

The bar was quiet and it seemed possible that a bar fight may have recently occurred on the premises. Things seemed to be relatively in order, aside from a broken table which had been moved to a corner and certain spots on the floor and on the bar that seemed unusually pristine, as though they had been recently been cleaned. A few men in the corner had stopped their conversation to stare at the group. No, they weren’t staring at the group. They were staring at Ananaius. As he approached the bar, he began to notice the room’s attention slowly gravitate in his general direction. The room fell to a hushed murmur and even the bartender seemed to hesitate in speaking to him.

“W-we d-don’t want no t-trouble” stammered the landlord, having difficulty finding the courage to confront the man which stood before him. He glanced quickly at Ananaius’s left arm trying not to draw to much attention. “Your f-friend was in here earlier l-lookin for ya. You can have what ever you like just no t-trouble, please” said the man seeming to regain some semblance of composure. Ananaius was taken aback by all of this. He sat for a moment, completely lost in all of the muddled information which had been suddenly thrown at him.

“What do you mean by all of this? What friend do you speak of? How do you know me?” Ananaius asked in a bewildered tone.

The bartender spoke up “A man came in earlier lookin for a man with that same mark you have on your arm. One of the regulars spoke up and said he’d killed a man by that description, and the man answered by killin him and his whole crew. The deputies awt to be on him soon on accounta it’s illegal to kill moren’ two people at once and not pay for their burial, but if ya say ya don’t know ‘im it’s all the same ta me ’slong as ya don’t cause no trouble.” Ananaius stared dazed at the bartender. He had only just entered Damascus and already he was receiving more information than he could have ever hoped for. By chance it seemed Ananaius had stumbled blindly upon piece of his forgotten past. What manner of man had he been prior to his awakening? He was not sure that he wanted to know now after hearing of the horrifying events that unfolded hours or even minutes before.

“Here have one on the house” said the bartender handing Ananaius a bottle of whisky and a shot glass, seemingly trying to remain within the graces of his good nature. As Ananaius tilted the bottled to pour himself a shot, a deafening noise rang out from across the room and the bottle shattered in his hand spilling alcohol and shards of glass over the bar and his lap.

A man wielding a sheriff’s weapon stood in the doorway, pointing the tip at Ananaius’s head.

“Today blood will be spilt to atone for your sins” said the man as Ananaius noticed the tension build in his trigger finger.

"Why is everyone in the world so effing trigger happy, or, as it would be, knife happy.." Junko whispered to Jacob. The second they had entered the bar, the ever observent Junko had slipped sligtly closer to Jacobs side. The two of them were attracting as much attention as hay in a barn compared to Mr.Tall and mysterious. Now he had a gun pointed at him. That's what you get when you walk into a crappy, rundown, table smashed stinky tavern.

Only moments ago, Junko has been enoying fresh mountain air and good conversation. Her mood had dropped below average the second they entered the not so expensive end of town. Drunken idiots, hazy rashes of smoke from all sorts of sources, smells she didn't want to define. Ananaius seemed fine with it all and Jacob was enjoying it as much as she were. Hearing that the golden oasis of Junkos dreams was just ahead only to be told also that they were stopping here, at lovely tavern number 20, was just cruel.

They had walked in, Junko mumbling something about alcohol being a dumb idea of a drink, only to quickly scoot over to Jacob. Then that half-decent sad exscuse for a bartender had started stammering away, calmed down a tad and gave Ananaius a drink. Junko sat her self, feet daggling a little to far from the floor to touch it, sneering at the drink in his hands. She would drink, nice, gentle, well matured wine, but never that crap. She listened with a little interest as the bartendered explained the weird laws, and with a little more interest as he mentioned the tattoo.

"So it really is widely spread," she muttered under her breath. Then all hell broke loose.

"Esuce me, mister," Junko spoke up. Ananaius had a gun pointed at him. How many times a day did this guy risk his life? Floating uncounsious down rivers, throwing knives, sitting infront of guns. And while Junko suspected he might be able to save himself, as far as she knew, not many people could react in the time a bullet spent flying from the barrel, to your head. That, and Junko had talked herself out of worse, and by catching the mans attention, he atleast wasn't about to pull the trigger, anymore.

Magic time.

"Miss, if you have something to day, I sugest you talk fast," Mr.Trigger happy didn't sounds happy at all. But she wasn't about to blurt out 30 reasons why not to shoot someone. Instead she hopped down off her stool, walked through the path of the aimed gun and to a piano, situated against a wall, looking deserted and decaying. She lifted it's lid, begining her bid for her friends life, "I asume you're a very busy man, important, mabey," she tipped her head at his weapon, looking all shiney and new, "From the gold district?" she kept moving over the piano as she spoke. Nothing like mozart to calm tension. Her finger tips found their place and she began playing. A happy but not too upbeat tune. Nothing anyone could possibly fight too. "So I am to asume," she went on, playing and talking, "you have a good heed of the rules around here then. We wouldn't, we just got here," the song picked up, a climax starting to build. It didn't matter, she had the mans attention, but his gun was still held high, "atone for his sins? I will agree, the guy can be pretty useless, saved his life myself, I did," she kept playing, "but if you will, blood shed get's you no where, unless you're paid for it,which brings me to my last point," she slammed her fingesr down on the last note, "How much is my friends life worth?"

The bar watched the daring girl walk back infront the line of fire and up to the man, putting her hand on the gun as she spoke, "How about this, you let this man go, pay for us to stay one night in a place of your choice in the gold district, and in return, while there, I'll get you twice the amount this guy is worth, plus pay you back for the accomodations with 30% interest," Junko smiled, pushing the weapong down with ease, the man realxing. She had just offered him a large amount of money and all he had to do was not kill one guy. He coudn't say no.

"What makes you think I'd belive a little girl can get that much money?" he pushed, suspecting the girl of fraud, "You think I saved that guys life with tooth and claw?" she asked, pointing at Ananaius and lying, extreamly convincingly, through her teeth, "Heck no, I'm weaker than a leaf. I pretty much bought the guy myself. Not for a bakers pay either. Trust me, I just one night to arrange it, friend," she held her hand out. He looked at the girl. Though a little rough, he was wearing some odd clothing, leather gloves too, it all looked expensive. She had also been playing classical music, not something any old country bumkin knew off by heart, but a privet tutor would help. "Alright girly. Meet me in the gold district, southern end, in an hour. We trade the money here, tomorrow, same time." With that, he was away, and Junko had a grin worthy of a chesire cat. She half bounced back to the otheres side, Jacob looking at her as if she had just agreed to kill her self, of both of them at that, over nothing.

"Oh come off it. Didn't I say I was one hell of a gambler? 100 years or not, people don't change, you could read him like a picture book. Although," she sat back between Jacob and Ananaius, looking both of them over, "We might need some new clothes. Dought any of the high class clubs are going to let in any old person."

Jake stood, amazed, at the entrance of the small pub as his friends scared the living daylights out of the scruffy bartender and nearly got their brains blown out by a rough version of a gun. His heart was beating hard in his chest, his eyes fixated on the smallest of points at the end of the barrel. The man was going to do it, and there was nothing Jake could do to save his friends from a death in the musty old bar.

"Hey!" he started to shout through the haze of smoke and stink, trying to draw the shooter's attention away from Ananaious, but he soon froze as Junko slipped across the room to a large wooden box and propped upon its half-rotten lid and started to strum her fingers across the white and black surface on the far end. She was playing music on the box suspended on the wooden legs. The happy, calming music seemed to fill the room with a good feeling, making even the dust and grime in the small bar seem a little cleaner and the faces of the other bar patriots seem a little warmer. Even Jacob's heart, which was about to beat a hole through his rib cage, calmed at the sound. He went quiet as the girl made her way back across the room to the man with the gun, her feet barely touching the ground underneath her.

Jacob supressed a grin when the man finally left, leaving a small dumbfounded-looking crowd huddled in the corner and his two friends at the bar. He strode over to them, letting a small shadow of the smile that was building inside of him shine through and said to Junko, "What did you say to him?"

"We're paying him for this guys life," she nodded at Ananauis, "It's quite a bit I promised by the sounds of it but like I was saying, some good clothes and the proper attatuide are all we need. Gambling is a high class thing. Card counting, reading people and a pokerface," Junko smirked, "That and I got us into a lovely gold district inn as part of the deal. Finally! A hot shower, room service mabey," Junko was a little too excited. She realised she had probably just offered all three of their lives rather than just the one, but she couldn't let the chance slip by.

"We go to meet him in an hour or so, gives us enough time to atleast try to look nice. I'd find it alot easier to pretend to be a rich kid if I knew any of the families around here, oi," she looked up at Ananaius "You owe me again. But that aside, you seem to know this area well enough, or atleast able to get some good information. Do you know any of the families in this area, or the greater area? It would be good to have some back up story for when people start asking questions."

The man that had previously been against the wall in dear shock had fled out of the door. He scrambled and scurried by Yud. Yud raised his voice in a bit of confusion, "What's going on here?" Brea's blood pressure rose to normal and everything faded into view. She saw Yud standing in the doorway with wounds over his torso which looked as though they would be fatal. She rushed to his side like a lost child in a strange place. Brea forced him into the bathroom. When she saw the bodies laying around the room, she guessed she had blacked out again, for she had passed out many times when engaging in an unfair fight. They made it to the restroom and she sat him upon the closed toilet seat. She had gathered medical supplies and came back to the toiletry. Brea knelt in front of Yud and removed his shirt and over garments. His wounds were only slightly deep and seemed as though they were merely just desert mirages. Before she could cleanse the holes with water and gauze, she saw silver inside. The bullets were coming out. They dropped and clanged against the floor in the moment of realization that he was actually regenerating. The holes began closing and thus healed completely. She could not believe her eyes. Instead of looking weak and curious, she ignored this fact to the best of her ability. Since his shirt was off, she had the chance to gaze at him and he was beautiful. Dreams could not have fulfilled her wishes as though this moment had. The position and intimacy of the situation seemed intriguing to Brea, but nevertheless strange and new. She stood and walked away, as to play hard to get; as she was taught. It's much better to wait and make him chase, then, hook line and sink the man of her dreams. With this thought, Brea knew, then, that feelings could get in the way of her mission, and his. She needed to give herself some space to think and she needed to clean up the mess in the room. They were all unconscious or dead. She walked to the toothless drunkard and pushed his body out of the window. The same fate was met by the others as well. She finished the deed and went through her backpack for her change of clothes.