Takehito Sato
Dialogue color = #5d8736
Thought color = #99e057
Takehito had seen displays of foreign pyrotechnics. But they were small, trifling things. Toys that whirled into the air or sparkled with a bang. The loudest contraption he had seen was a savage-looking weapon that shot rocks at speeds faster than the eye could see. That one left his ears ringing for hours.
None of that compared to the noise that assaulted his senses now. Far and near, he could hear massive, earth-shaking booms. The sounds of wood splintering and stone crumbling hardly drowned out the ever-growing ruckus of fear, surprise, and agony, as the once-confident rebels found themselves under attack from an enemy they did not expect, trying to hide from an unstoppable force of destruction they've never seen before.
And so, he had failed. To Takehito's credit, the samurai was like a spectre. He moved with superhuman speed, and before anyone could react, Amakusa had his legs cut from beneath him. His cries of pain steadily mixed with the turmoil about. "Take him to the castle, all of you." He shouted above the din, "And spread the word as you go - get the others to regroup there as well. We leave tonight!"
He flinched as he heard a deafening crash, and saw a roof cave in out of the corner of his eye, and noted with dismay that an arrow - originally meant for the samurai - shattered itself against a wall a few feet to the side. One of his sentries must have been struck by the barrage.
His hands nearly slipped when he drew, a slow, careful movement that took more than a few seconds due to the immense length of Takehito's blade - being almost twice to three times as long as a normal sword. Behind him, Amakusa grew quieter as he was ferreted away.
"Mercy's not a trait I expected to see from one of the Emperor's dogs." Takehito remarked, his eyes locked onto the samurai ahead of him. He could only hope the other warrior couldn't see his apprehension. "But, I wouldn't expect a gardener to know that a habit like that gets one killed."
Then - he struck, his foot kicking from the ground behind him, muscles tensing as he brought his sword about in a wide arc, seeking to cleanly carve this Susumu into two. Above the rooftops on his left, he glimpsed motion - the remaining sentry he had sent forward, likely with an arrow drawn and ready... waiting for an opportunity.
Dealing with this irritant wouldn't take too long. Then he could focus on getting the Yakuza away from this alive.
Chiyoko Matsumura
Dialogue color = #07273d
Thought color = #505a60
Chiyoko could hear nothing. See nothing. And for a bit, she felt nothing. She began to seriously wonder if she had died, right then and there. What a way to go, struck to death by what almost seemed to be lightning.
It didn't last long. An irritating, painful ringing soon echoed in her ears. Pain shot through her side every time she tried to move, crippling her for another few seconds. And she opened her eyes, watching dancing dust and particles illuminated by the moonlight obscure her vision. She sneezed, sending another jolt of fire through her body and her skull - her injuries complaining of the sudden spasm.
Around her was a dimly-lit room. It would have been beautiful once, with finely-carved furniture and carefully set structure. But now, rubble littered the ground, and the rest of the roof threatened to topple within at any minute. Outside, she could feel the earth quiver and quake with every strike. Her hearing gradually improved - and she wished it hadn't. She'd never been a part of a siege or war before, and the sounds admittedly terrified her. The screams of pain and fear. It sounded like everything she'd worked for - everything they've worked for - was crumbling apart.
Shifting on her side, she lifted her armor up, peering under her robes. She wasn't able to see much in the darkness, but she could still clearly make out a large set of discolored blotches and bruises. And though it hurt terribly, she suspected her armor saved her from any broken ribs.
I'm going to need to get over it, she thought, rolling onto her side with a groan. It was a slow process, first propping herself up, then unsteadily standing. Her senses were still disoriented. It didn't help that the ground seemed to shake every few seconds, tremors caused by the strange weapons. What if the foreigners discovered the secret of harnessing thunder, like we did with fire? The thought terrified her. What was the point of all their effort now, when they faced a threat like this?
The town of Shimabara itself seems to shudder with every strike. What warning there was turned to be too little, too late, as a half dozen impossibly large ships ventured into Shimabara's bay. They were clearly foreign, built differently from any Japanese ship, bearing neither a warlord's banner, or that of the Emperor's. And, if that was not enough, plumes of smoke erupted from their sides as they sent their heavy iron payload into the unprepared rebel garrison. This was a weapon few had heard of, and even fewer had seen.
Towards the front of the city, warning calls went unheeded among the chaos, as the few sentries on guard noticed a small force quickly emerging from the forest, their calls of war failing to pierce of sounds of chaos within the city. Arrows began to to pelt the approaching warriors. Though they're poorly aimed and infrequent, more than one shout of pain is heard as a missile finds it's mark. Kowatta in particular can feel one tug at his sleeve. A narrow, harrowing miss.
Within the city, walls and buildings both crumble with each devastating shot. These strange weapons almost never seem to hit someone directly, but they cause plenty of casualties with the rubble and shrapnel that results. Most run through the streets looking for shelter or hiding from the siege, some can be seen fleeing through the gates in flight, and even fewer still are gathering what little arms and armor they can, unable to tear their dangerous gazes from the ships that lie in the bay - one goal clearly in mind.