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Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo

So do our minutes hasten; so does your life burn.

0 · 1,078 views · located in Vongola Castle , Namimori

a character in “Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn!: The 11th vongola”, as played by Xunnamius

Description







Image


❝I will make you disappear.❞






GENERAL INFORMATION

ImageAffiliation: Rizzo
Gender: Male
Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Al
Age: 17
Love Interest: (none yet)
Face Claim: Izaya Orihara, Durarara

Flame Type
Alastor utilizes the Space flame. This astronomically rare flame type grants him a certain level of interaction with the most fundamental element of the universe: time. The flames themselves are black and seems to have tiny lights and various other things inside it. Further, they're extremely cold when one is in close proximity to them.

The flame has two characteristics: dissonance (opposite of harmony) and destruction.

Dissonance only applies to living cells. Being in physical contact with the Space flame for an extended period of time can have disastrous effects on them and the organisms they comprise. This also applies to the users of the Space flame, though to a lesser degree.

Destruction, like its predecessor characteristic apparent in the Sky flame, gives the Space flame extraordinarily pernicious capabilities when used offensively.





APPEARANCE

ImageHeight: 5'9"
Weight: 140 lbs
Build: Toned with muscular arms. Not particularly strong, however.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Scars/Tattoos/Piercings: None

Description
Lightly tanned bronze skin, like bread out of the oven. Walks with a noticeable swagger. Stringy black hair that comes down to around his ears towards the front and his neck towards the back, though its usually parted to the side so that it doesn't get in his eyes. Eyes are a hard amber-red, like a supernova. Oh, and can't forget that trademark arrogant smirk.

Preferred Clothing
Alastor can often be seen wearing his oversized hooded jacket, all black, with fur detailing. He also wears several rings on his fingers, but they're just normal rings. Everything else is variable.





MENTALITY

ImageImageOddities
He can be a bit of a loner at times, and rarely if ever changes his manner of dress. He's also liable to literally lick his wounds.

Skills
He's great at manipulating people and figuring out ways to get what he wants. He's also a semi-competent fighter, though he's not really all that good at hand-to-hand. He is excellent at knife fighting, however, and typically carries a switchblade or two on his person.

Hobbies
Training, entertainment, and prepping for when he eventually takes over the Rizzo family from his mother.

Phobia(s)
Ending up alone. He'll never tell you that out loud, though.

Sexuality
He does what he likes.

Personality
Outwardly, Alastor, who prefers you call him "Al," is a pretty nice guy. Very eloquent. Very charming. He always greets new people in the same polite manner: "Hello." "Nice to meet you." "Are you doing well?" "That's nice." Underneath the facade, however, is a very different person: a cold, calculating combat artist who will risk anything and use any method to get what he wants, and damn those that get in his way. "Winning," in whatever shape or form, is everything. The ends will always justify the means.

In respect to taking life, Alastor has few reservations (for bystanders or even a temporary ally). He'd rather not kill, simply because it's such a messy affair, but if the easiest route is through someone, he'll happily oblige. Further, he does not consider "right vs wrong" and has no problem lying to anyone at anytime. In this way he is generally manipulative. Worse, he's egocentric—he believes himself superior to all others—and is an ardent risk taker, though, at the same time, he could be considered quite the cunning strategist.

Still, he does place heavy value his family and especially friends and friendships in general. They are extremely important to him.

[Likes] [Dislikes]
o Talking about chess Playing chess and people that talk about chess x
o Manipulating people Other strategists x
o Taunting people Being manipulated or taunted x
o Fighting people Not getting what he wants x
o Hard liquor (more for the challenge) Failing x
o Random unexpected things, especially if interesting "Young kids" (he is annoyed by naivety) x





BACKGROUND

Relationship Status
N/A

Family
ImageThe Rizzo famiglia is colossal in size, easily dwarfing several times over that of the Vongola and Millefiore families combined. At top is the head of the family and Alastor's adopted mother, Maschenny Rizzo. It is said that she is the most powerful Space flame user to ever have existed. So absolute is her mastery over Space and time that she has managed to keep even Death at bay. It is not known how old she truly is, but she doesn't look a day over 30. That has been the case for a long while.

After the Rizzo main family, power is divided equally among several modular Rizzo "branch" families, each with their own heads and hierarchies.


Within the Rizzo main family, it currently goes:
Mother || Maschenny Rizzo (appearance) || ? || Head of the Rizzo family
Elder brother || Gabriel Rizzo || 6? || Heir to the Rizzo family, presumed deceased
Younger brother || Maximus "Max" Rizzo (appearance) || 9 || Biological son to Maschenny, born after Alastor's adoption
Younger sister || Miku Rizzo (appearance) || 8 || Biological daughter to Maschenny, born after Alastor's adoption

Alastor has long since lost contact with his biological parents and his actual family.

Personal History
Alastor, great great great grandson of the inventor Koenig, had a privileged childhood. His every whim and fancy was ultimately satisfied by one of the myriad staff members that made his family's mansion work. Even as a child, the resemblance between Alastor and his father was striking—uncanny even. They were both very ambitious, very meticulous and pedantic, had similar mannerisms, and, most of all, were both capable of great cruelty when it came to getting what they wanted.

Alastor originally came from one of the Rizzo's many branch families, selected for adoption into the main family by Maschenny Rizzo herself after he won the "selection tournament" at eight years old. He won by brutally slaughtering the other competitors, most of whom were children from the other branch families. This tournament was held only after Maschenny's only son and heir, Gabriel Rizzo, vanished under mysterious circumstances. Though no one outside of the main family had ever laid eyes upon the boy, it is rumored that Alastor's father, one of the more influential branch heads, assassinated him in order to give his son Alastor the opportunity at becoming heir to Rizzo dynasty.

If that was the case, his plan worked flawlessly. Alastor won.

With his new position as first heir, Alastor formed a new goal: surpass his adopted mother, the Rizzo head and one of the most powerful Space flame users to ever have existed. His mother was so adept at using the Space flame and her Clocktower that she discovered a method of creating an until-then theoretical "White Hole"—an impenetrable field of space that lacked any notion of time. She also controlled her Space flame to such a fine degree that she fought back the grim reaper himself: she stopped aging long ago. It is assumed that her actual age is somewhere around forty-five or fifty, though she has the body of a woman half that.

Several decades earlier, Earth had been invaded by flame-wielding creatures of the void, merciless insidious beings that infected and repurposed human bodies to become their puppets. In response, the major families at the time agreed to a loose research alliance, establishing the Alien Extinction Project or AEP. It's purpose was to design and develop techniques, strategies, and machinery to assist in defeating the alien menace.

Shortly after Alastor was adopted into the Rizzo main family, the AEP revealed the existence of their front-line anti-alien weapon: the Conflagration "C" Frame.

By the time Alastor reached his early teenage years, Conflagration Frames had become the de facto standard for combat not only against aliens, but in skirmishes between the major families as well. Following the revelation of C-Frame weapon came a surreptitious technological "arms race" began between the major families, with new generations of frames coming out every year, each with features and functions that trumped last year's outdated models. Of course, the custom C-Frame units on the front lines of the conflict against the aliens were the focus (and often beta testers) of new technological innovations, though the major families moved to purchase C-Frame tech from the AEP on the black markets.

As he grew late into his late teens, Alastor furiously honed his skills with the goal of eventually stepping out of his mother's shadow. He even gained access to Maschenny's "sacred" box weapon, The Clocktower, an heirloom first theorized by the original Koenig to focus Sky flame energy and first prototyped by AEP scientists for use with Space flames. Slowly but surely, Alastor gathered a team of loyal followers from all over the world, hand-selecting them himself. They were the closest things he'd ever had to "friends" in his entire life. They would eventually become the Rizzo flame guardians.

By seventeen, Alastor was an infamous Space flame user with a team of badasses at his side: Quasar, Comet, Asteroid, Moon, Star, Dark Matter. Thanks to the efforts of the AEP, which had been disbanded and outlawed a few years thence due to the negative PR from its child experiments, the humans had advanced far enough to reach a stalemate of sorts with their extraterrestrial foes.

Now is the time to crush these creatures.

Maschenny ordered Alastor and his guardians to travel back in time and retrieve the ancient Vongola rings, legendary items that had been lost to the annals of time. Apparently, the aliens are searching furiously for these artifacts, though for what reason the Rizzo are unsure. The fact that they want the rings at all is reason enough for the Rizzo and humanity to acquire them first.





OTHER

Main Box Weapons
Alastor has two mainstay box weapons: the Hour Hand and the Minute Hand.

Hour HandImage
The shorter Hour Hand short-blade is the lesser of Alastor's two mainstay box weapons and twinkles silver like a star. When wielded, it enables Alastor to use Overhand. Thanks to the thick layer of "hard" Space flame coating the weapon, Hour Hand has a moderately destructive effect on anything that it touches. For instance, constantly parrying it with another sword will cause that sword to corrode over the course of the battle and eventually crack or even snap in half. This destructive effect can be negated by a flame type that has qualities in the realm of harmony, tranquility, construction, or anything else that makes sense.

Minute HandImage
The longer Minute Hand longsword is the greater of Alastor's two mainstay box weapons and glows red like a supernova. When wielded, it enables Alastor to use Underhand. Wounds to living tissue inflicted by Minute Hand tend to last longer and are harder to heal, since the blade is coated in a thin layer of "soft" Space flame.







Sub-Box Weapon: THE CLOCKTOWER
The Rizzo family's Clocktower box weapon is a seven foot needle-like structure that helps its user focus his or her Space flames. It is the key to many of Alastor's more heavy-hitting moves, but is vulnerable to attack if not sufficiently protected by its user.

In order to benefit from its presence, Alastor must be within a certain proximity to it. All of Alastor's techniques that require the Clocktower in some way burn a massive amount of Alastor's energy. Combined with him using his flame to keep the tower anchored in this place and time dimensionally, he tends to run out of stamina fairly quickly.

Techniques
Alastor have several techniques, some of which are immediately at his disposal without the use of box weapons.

ImageInfinite Scream (requires Clocktower)
Suspends the target in a timeless void-like state for as long as the Clocktower remains standing or until Alastor releases the technique. For the person (or object) in question, time freezes locally for them, including the effects of all forces (i.e. gravity), so they end up being stuck in place. This attack can only be used on objects or people that are within a certain proximity to the Clocktower, and that number is limited depending on Alastor's state of mind and level of injury.

A blitzkrieg of attacks against the Clocktower would, by those constraints, have a high chance of overcoming Infinite Scream.




ImageTemporal Pain
Alastor snaps his fingers, creating a flux of Space flame around his hand that extends outwards spherically in every direction, distorting natural phenomena as Space flames tend to do, pushing against everything in its path.






Image
11-year-old Alastor
Image
46-year-old Alastor
Temporal Images (requires Clocktower)
Alastor uses the Clocktower to bring multiple (three, including himself) versions of himself from other multiverse timelines into the present. These "images" can move and operate autonomously and independent of the "current" Alastor. Further, they all have access to the Clocktower and all can use the Space flame but do not share the same conscious state of mind; i.e. they may have different memories, goals, etc as well as differing (and perhaps conflicting) personalities.

While the Clocktower does a majority of the heavy lifting during the execution and maintenance of this technique, the direct downside of having three of himself in existence simultaneously is a straightforward three-way-split of his flame's efficacy and power. Each Alastor will only be a third as powerful as the one "current" Alastor would have been.

The current Alastor, thusly depowered by two thirds, will be joined in his timeline by his younger thirteen-year-old self and his older thirty-seven-year-old self. They can return to their own timelines at will, be forced to leave by the "current" Alastor (thus regaining power), or be banished by an enemy with the destruction of the Clocktower.

If they are killed, Alastor isn't exactly sure how that'll impact his timeline, though isn't really all that keen on finding out. It is for this reason that he rarely uses this technique—only in emergencies or if his "current" body is too fatigued by overuse of the Space flame. Plus, he dislikes dealing with his younger immature self.

Space Requiem (requires Clocktower and outside assistance)
Allows Alastor to transport himself and everything within range of the Clocktower to another point in time, be it backwards or forwards. This is a very hard and extremely draining move for Alastor, and might even kill him if done incorrectly, haphazardly, or without the assistance of other Space flame users.

ImageAgony
Not only is Agony one of the most devastating and cruel moves available to Alastor, it is also one of the most versatile. The move comes in two phases: the initial phase and the replay phase. The initial phase of the attack defines what the replay action will be. For example, Alastor can activate Agony when he punches someone with a fist of Space flame. Agony will then transition into the repeat phase and repeat that exact same punch several times, even if Alastor walks away, thus repeating the "agony" of the assault over and over.

In order to use Agony, Alastor must keep and maintain eye contact during the initial phase of the maneuver.





ImageUnderhand (requires Minute Hand)
When wielding the Minute Hand box weapon, Alastor can invoke "Underhand," wherein his Minute Hand will become temporally unstable for but a moment, allowing it to phase through both matter and energy without consequence.







ImageOverhand (requires Hour Hand)
When wielding the Hour Hand box weapon, Alastor can invoke "Overhand". Overhand puts Alastor's body (rather than the Hour Hand) in a state of temporal instability for a brief moment, allowing him to exist in existential flux. In this instant of fluidity, he can place his body in positions (spatially and chronologically) that it wasn't in originally, allowing him to dodge moves that seemed to have hit their mark only milliseconds prior. Even though it only allows him to shift his position slightly, it is useful when dodging unexpected or extremely fast attacks. However, it will not save him from an injury he has already suffered.



ImageLightspeed (requires Clocktower and one of the Hands)
Lightspeed allows Alastor to move instantly—faster than the speed of light—to another location. He isn't moving fast so much as pausing time and moving normally. The end destination of his "light speed" movement is determined by the location of his Hand box weapons, and he can choose which Hand weapon he wishes to move to.

This only works when he is within proximity of the Clocktower and he can only use Lightspeed to appear where one of his Hand weapons is.



ImageWhite Hole: Second Edition (requires Clocktower)
The original White Hole is a technique that was invented by his father, and only a handful of the most powerful Space flame users can execute it to its full potential—Alastor not yet being one of them. Instead, he invented his own version of his father's technique, which he calls White Hole: Second Edition.

This defensive maneuver creates a thin, hollow, and equally translucent sphere of "heavy time lag" between himself and the outside world—otherwise known as an AT or "Anti-Time" field. Due to the negative temporal state of the space that constitutes the sphere, the protected area within it cannot be entered from the outside, although matter and light can escape from within. In this sense, it is the reverse of a "black hole," which can only be entered from the outside, but from which nothing, including light, can escape.


All attacks. All energy. All everything is suspended in a state of extreme time lag at the wall.

The massive drawback of this technique is that, as mentioned, nothing can make it through the barrier. That includes air. If Alastor is forced to keep the AT field active for more than a minute or so, he'll run out of breathable air and drop the shield (either purposely or due to loss of consciousness). He also cannot see what is happening outside the barrier, whereas those outside can look in.

This technique takes quite a while to execute, requiring several seconds of concentration before it manifests itself. The bigger he makes the AT field, the longer it'll take to manifest itself and the more energy it'll take on his part to maintain it. At typical size, he has maybe a minute of breathable air to work with at the most, even less if he is shielding multiple people.





Image

So begins...

Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Annalise "Anna" Cortega Character Portrait: Kurai Rin Character Portrait: Althaia Rizzo Character Portrait: Tyde Rumerio Character Portrait: Cornelius V. Roquet Character Portrait: Elysia
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"But you let the other one go! Why can't I go down there with the others, too?" Came a boy's voice, high and childlike but with a distinct edge of authority. Said boy, a short lanky kid no older than thirteen, had an entitled air about him. He was dressed like your stereotypical preppy school kid, complete with blazer and an overly-styled black hairdo.

The boy was standing beside another figure, this one noticeably taller and more toned. Like the boy beside him, he wore a sharp suit, though the suit jacket was hidden under an olive colored oversized winter coat, its furred hood resting along the figure's shoulders like the beginnings of a cape. His hair, stringy and black, fell around his ears like a mop. Currently, he was leaning against the railing of a balcony, one that was near the gymnasium's entrance and overlooked the entirety of the truly massive auditorium. He balanced his chin on the base of his palm, his elbow resting securely upon the railing, his free hand tucked away in his jacket pocket. His eyes were closed, a bored look long since saturating his face.

If he heard the boy's angst-filled question, he certainly didn't act like it.

After a few seconds of silence, the boy grimaced, eyes narrowing viciously. He didn't say anything further. He didn't have to. Instead, he simply turned, fully intending to follow a gaggle of adults busy shuffling out from the elevator doors and down a nearby staircase towards the gymnasium proper.

"Stop." The taller figure spoke in voice barely more than a whisper, yet his harsh utterance could not be mistaken for anything other than a command. The boy halted mid-footfall. He hadn't even made it a single step. The taller figure didn't even turn to acknowledge the boy. He simply spoke, as if stating some unequivocal law of the universe to the surrounding ambience. "It is not yet your turn to be down there."

The boy turned slowly on his heel to face the taller figure, his posture transforming from one of defiance to one of begrudging submissiveness. The figure responded by opening his eyes, though he still did not look at the boy. "But—!"

"Look." The figure removed his hand from his pocket, lazily pointing over the balcony and at the crowd below. "Look at them all. What do you see?"

The boy grimaced again, taking a second before responding. "A bunch of stupid primitives."

"Not true," the figure chided. His eyes, hard amber-red orbs that glowed like twin supernovae, swept over the gathering below. They came to rest rather quickly upon a somewhat odd duo. A short woman of small frame and long snow-white hair stood within proximity to yet another, this one younger and more petite, her hair equally as long—though it appeared as a dark purple in the ambient lighting.

"I see my rooks," he continued. "Beautiful. Strong. Undefeatable. The king's influence and power made physical."

His eyes darted in the opposite direction, landing on another pair sharing proximity. The first was a particularly short girl no older than fourteen, her hair a deep mauve, her mannerisms fragile and child-like. Nearby was a woman of average height, svelte, with deep green eyes.

It was a moment before he spoke again. "I see my bishops. Infallible. They surround the king, representing his ego, and will crush his enemies with a higher power."

The figure's eyes swiveled, landing on the final pair. Unlike the others, these two weren't female. Though both men stood equally tall at nearly six feet, one had deep red hair—the color of blood. The other, gold—the color of a mighty sun.

"And I see my knights. Glorious. Unpredictable. Unexpected. The embodiment of the king's Mandate of Heaven."

At this point, the boy was leaning over the balcony railing, balancing himself with his forearms, trying to pick out just whom the figure was talking about. When he spoke, he didn't look over at his elder companion. "What about me? What am I?"

The figure paused for another moment, as if considering. "You're my queen."

The boy made a face, looking up at the figure. "Eww! What do I have to be a girl?!"

"Of all the actors here, the queen is by far the most powerful," the figure said, ignoring the boy's outrage. For the first time, the figure took his eyes off of the crowd below, electing instead to stare down at the boy whom pouted at his side. "Do you know why?"

Instead of answering, the boy pursed his lips, choosing to look back out over the balcony.

The figure answered his own question. "Perspective. That's what makes the queen the most powerful piece. The most flexible. The most useful. With the proper perspective, the queen can project power at any point on the board. At any time."

"So what," the boy muttered, obviously dejected at being labelled "queen".

"You asked why you couldn't go down there with the others."
"Yeah, but—"
"And what do you see when you look over the balcony?"
"Everything! I see all of these stupid idiots a—!"
"Exactly. You see everything. The entire board. From here, you have perspective."
"But—"

"You go down there now and you can't see the whole picture anymore. You lose that perspective. That means you lose your value to me. Understand?" The question was rhetorical. "So wait." His command was harsh and left no further room for debate. "Your turn will come." Not waiting for a response, the figure returned to surveying the crowd below. The ends of his lips curled upwards, forming the beginnings of a smirk. "Those battling on the front lines are not fit to command."

The boy sighed bitterly, hunching his shoulders. "God I hate chess," he muttered.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Annalise "Anna" Cortega Character Portrait: Kurai Rin Character Portrait: Althaia Rizzo Character Portrait: Tyde Rumerio Character Portrait: Cornelius V. Roquet Character Portrait: Elysia
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"My... Wake up... I... Ely... Wake up... Sia..."

Slowly like flowers blooming to a song of spring, deep green had been revealed as those eyes fleetingly opened. Yet, it only reflected at first a curtain of endless darkness. The sensation of numbing coldness encircled like a ghost. This effectively caused a wave of panic which was related to the sound of a beeping alarm. It was accompanied by voices were inaudible, but as it went on, there were a few which could be understood. They were conversing about an elevated heart rate and pulse indicating the Princess was agitated. Then, there was another statement stating to return the subject to stasis. But the said parameters eased down, it was due to an image which could now be seen behind those emerald depths.

What was seen?

Blurry but then it became clearer. It was a face belonging to a male. There was a sense of familiarity and a tidal of feelings washed over. The most prominent was nauseating longing. Candle-like fingers moved ever so slowly as it was directed to reach for that visage. But, it only made contact upon the pristine glass, a clear separation. There was a sharp pain because of that and the lips which had been silenced for so long attempted to speak. Though, it had been a failure. The words would not form. Feelings seemed knowledgeable what should be said but, the mind seemed unknowing. This aptly brought doubt and confusion to the maiden encased in Crystal Glass.

And when she had been released from the cradle she had been placed in, the face was given a name, Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo. A person she does not know, but why did she feel those multitude of emotions for a stranger. No, that is incorrect. This Alastor is not an individual of unknown intricacies. He is her Master. She will serve as the Comet Guardian of the Rizzo Famiglia. Such information should had given her a great amount of discomfort and panic. But, there was only an odd sense of acceptance. Why was that? Is it because of Alastor? If that is the reason, then she shall...

"Go... Move, Sia..."

With a sudden turn of the head, Elysia looked behind her. A voice, she heard it, masculine in melody with the overtone of a wish. But, there was no one there, just a wall. Was it a part of her lost memory? Was it simply just imagination? She was uncertain. According to the people (Rizzo scientists) who had been taking care of her, her lost memory could have been the product of her stasis or of her own doing. In summary, there was no definite origin. As for the reason of her being put to stasis, it was due o the flame inside of her. They tell her that the Comet Flames had an adverse effect on her health and needed to be contained. But now, she has been awakened to fulfill her role and to say the threat of the flame inside of her had been neutralized.

That is what she had been told. But truly, that was far from the truth.

Still for now, it was enough. "Miss?" As it would appear, she was once more in a trance as she awakened and looked at the one who called her. It was a man, one of the patrolling guards for the Vongola Ceremony. "Is something the matter?" The Princess seemed bothered about something. Elysia blinked a few times in a rhythmic matter before shaking her head slowly to the sides. "Nothing. Everything is fine." She answered with her usual mellow persona. Even with her far-off look, she was a sight to behold, something out of fantasy and ethereal elegance. Her coffee brown skin seemed to have a caramel glow of its own as her eyes of deep green glistened with a distant story. Hair of violet pinned around her head resembling a crown, accented by a golden spiked tiara. She wore a sleeveless red dress with military shoulder tassels bordered with a sea green fringe at the edge of the bodice, and includes two separate cuffs worn similarly to bracelets. She was an image of a princess. Yet, her chosen appearance was dictated by her caretakers not of her own preference. Though, she is not opposed to it. She simply does what was asked.

The said guard nodded with a further offer, it could not be helped to have a soft edge towards the Comet Guardian. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to say or ask." Hearing the man's words, she offered a small smile of gratitude and appreciation. "Yes, thank you for the concern, Sir." She then gave a polite bow before walking towards her fellow guardians. They had been asked to gather together for a mission which had been directed to them by Maschenny Rizzo. It was to go back to a certain period in time where the Vongola Famiglia reigned with their rings. They are tasked to retrieve these rings for the sanctity of humanity. A noble purpose it is if one would think, however, in truth, she felt nothing towards the cause. Would that mean she was a terrible person? Is she an individual without a heart? Was that because she has no memory? Or was it because that is simply how she is? Truly, a dilemma of her self.

Removing herself from her inner monologue, Elysia had simply stood beside a fellow guardian, Annalise Cortega, the one who commands the star flames. It seemed the rest of the guardians are scattered about and soon it will begin. She could only wish that there would not be much of a trouble for them. It is not a pleasant feeling for her to see any of her peers harmed or troubled especially that of their leader, her Master. Thinking about it, she allowed her eyes to travel to see where the Master Rizzo has gone. She had taken notice of Kurai Rin, Althaia Rizzo, Tyde Rumerio, and Cornelius V. Roquet among the crowd. In the end, she feels unease if the Master was not present or she was not beside him. After all, she had always been with Alastor since her awakening. As such, the temporary absence by his side causes discomfort, even if that was not noticeable at front.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Trevor Sawada Character Portrait: Rosa Kuromaku Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Troy Takumi Character Portrait: Cornelius V. Roquet
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Clearly, the woman was dead. The typical rise-and-fall of a chest still struggling for breath, the palpitations of a distressed heart fighting to function. The flicker in the eyes. The grunts and moans and screams. It'd all ceased some while ago, and yet he found that he could not stop. He could not stay his hand.

Again, he stabbed her. This time, the serrated edge of his switchblade entered the right side of the woman's chest, under the ribcage. As quickly as he'd pushed it in, he removed the blade, only to stab her once again, this time in the gut. The blade met little resistance, like he was cutting through hot butter. Blood spurted from this fresh wound, some of it landing on the cuff of his suit, though he'd be lying if he said he cared.

He repeated this process several times, stabbing the corpse in different areas and observing the results. Though the woman had long since stopped screaming, her corpse did seem to stir every now and then. That brought a smile to the kid's face. Ah, yes. He was perfectly content. The woman's blood had begun to pool beneath his feet, though he was careful not to let it stain the fronts his loafers. His mother would have his head if he ruined another pair of expensive dress shoes.

A small cry caused the kid to perk up, breaking him out of his amused stupor. Instantly, he was alert, scanning the room with his eyes. They'd taken out the lights and the blinds were drawn, so the hotel room was nearly pitch black, with some streamers of sunlight filtering in to dance lazily along the walls. The random mix of sunlight reflecting off the bloodied walls reminded the kid of a kaleidoscope, busily turning over and over in on itself, revealing the sordid secrets the darkness kept hidden.

The remains of a decapitated man lay on the bed in the center of the room. His remained were dressed expertly in a gray suit and tie, both besmirched with clotted blood. Elsewhere lay another man, this one still in one piece, though he remained face down in a particularly large puddle of crimson. There was a petite gash in the back of his neck, at the base of his skull, where some small blade weapon had pierced him. He wasn't moving.

They were both covered in eerie black flames, though they didn't much act like flames. They didn't spread. They didn't immediately consume the corpses. They just sat there, burning, the wisps waltzing to some unknown beat.

A grin slowly wormed its way onto the boy's face as he admired his handiwork, breathing in the scene. Three targets. Three corpses.

Then the kid's eyes landed on something interesting. Something they'd missed.

Behind the dresser and fully cloaked in the cover of darkness cowered a wide-eyed little girl. At first it was hard to spot her, though now that he knew she was there, his eyes had already begun to adjust, making her into more than just a silhouette.

The boy stood, turning his body to face this new person. Interesting! The child looked eight or nine years old. Not much younger than him. She was dressed in a fancy piece of fabric, no doubt a dress crafted specifically for the Vongola ceremony. Unfortunately, it'd been marred by the blood of these inconsiderate corpses. In fact, her being here led the kid to believe that she was related to them. Probably a daughter of one of the deceased. Yeah. That made sense.

It took him but a few steps to make it over to where the girl was hiding. She didn't much react to his presence. Probably still in shock over witnessing the death of her loved ones. The kid made sure to drag his feet across the room's expensive carpet as he moved, just to make sure he wouldn't track blood outside when he left. Plus, he still wanted to keep his shoes clean. Can't fault him for that.

After a few moments of staring down at her menacingly, the boy squatted, the innocent grin returning to his face.

"Hi! I'm Alastor." The kid beamed, his countenance genuine. "What's your name?" Instead of responding, the girl simply stared at the knife in Alastor's hand, its edge glistening with the blood of his victims. Her parents. Alastor continued. "Hey, don't worry," he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. The physical contact caused her to look up at him, her eyes slowly gaining focus. "If my mother wanted them dead, she probably had a really good reason. She's not a monster, you know." His stepford smile didn't crack one bit. "They were probably alien sympathizers, like that Vongola X guy... or at least they will be... or would have been... or are..." Alastor leaned backwards, the majority of his weight on his heels, his face scrunching with concentration. He used the base of his switchblade to scratch the back of his head. "... or... uhh... were? Whatever, time is stupid."

Just then, Alastor's eyes grew large with realization, his grin morphing into a smirk. "Buuut, that means, in the future," he began, raising his knife above his head, its tip pointed towards the ceiling. His words lost all of their warmth. His eyes gave up their youthful light. The innocence bled from his countenance as if from an angry wound. "You'll become a problem too, won't you?"

Without an ounce of hesitation, Alastor flipped the blade in his grasp, its edge facing downward, and brought the weapon down upon the girl's unprotected head—or, at least, he would have. He froze mid-swing, the blade coming to a stop mere inches from the girl's forehead.

"Stop." The order had come from another. One who was also in the room. The one who'd orchestrated the attack. His voice was deep, tempered by experience and honed by power. It had a certain gravitas to it, like a king unleashing an edict, and Alastor was helpless but to obey.

Looking over his shoulder, the boy eyed the man who'd commanded him. He, too, was dressed in an immaculate black suit and matching tie. He sported an eye-patch over his left eye, his right glowing a soft red in the darkness. He looked like a shadowy demon. Then again, Alastor was pretty sure his eyes matched the man's in both hue and intensity. That'd make him a demon, too, wouldn't it? He almost chuckled at idea. "Come on, she's—"

"She is not one of the marked ones," the man stated, his tone indicating that the discussion was over. With both hands he straightened his tie. It was a sharp maneuver. Curt. There were no wasted movements. Without further ado, he pivoted on his heel and began walking towards the room's exit. He didn't need to ensure that the boy would follow because his commands were unequivocal. Undeniable. Absolute.

The black flames that were busy eating away at two of the corpses seemed to jive excitedly as the man strided past them. After a moment, they lept from the corpses and clung to him like loving pets, though he didn't seem to bothered by this. In fact, it appeared as if he were absorbing the flames into his body. An instant later, they ceased to be.

"Tch." Alastor said more, but he chose to mumble the words under his breath. Begrudgingly, he flipped the switchblade closed, tucking it into his sleeve. The smile was gone from his face, replaced by a child's grimace. He was definitely pouting. He gave the girl one last look before turning to follow the man out the door, hands stuffed into his pockets, careful not to step in any more blood.




The main lobby of the Vongola's gymnasium emptied straight to a spacious balcony area, where many suit-and-tie types were greeting each other before moving down the stairs and merging with the main crowd below. Most of the guests entered the lobby via the elevators, which were used to whisk people to and from street-level. There were two long rows of elevators, each opening, releasing a few people, and closing in rhythmic intervals, returning to the surface every now and then to ferry even more suits-and-ties to the starstudded Vongola event.

Out one of these elevators stepped two burly men. From their Secret Service -esque uniforms, it was obvious who they were: CEDEF agents, under the command of Lorenzo DiCaccio. The two men were conversing in an animated fashion, though their voices were constrained to a whisper.

"Yeah, the call just came in about an hour ago, but they're trying to keep it all under wraps," said the man on the left. Immediately upon stepping out of the elevator, he turned and began walking towards the balcony. "We don't want a panic right before the ceremony."

"Chief, you can't be serious," his partner replied, keeping pace. "Was this DiCaccio's call?"

"Orders should come down for your squad and the other agents momentarily," he replied, sidestepping the question. He was head of CEDEF's security forces within the auditorium. The commissioned officers that served under him referred to him as "chief," even though he'd indicated on multiple occasions his disdain for the nickname. "I'm pretty sure the brass is still deliberating. And get this: there were only three casualties."

The other agent narrowed his eyes, the wheels spinning in the back of his head. "The Bovino family is weak, but not that weak. Surely that had security at the hotel?"

"They did. Not a single bodyguard was killed, only brutalized into unconsciousness. The Bovino heir was also spared."

"There was a kid in that mess?"

"Their daughter, yeah. Apparently she saw all of it, but she isn't speaking yet. And whoever did it... it was a fucking bloodbath, Davis. A bloodbath. Whoever did it was trying to send us a message."

"And right before the ceremony, too." The CEDEF officer, Davis, frowned, pushing his spectacles back towards his face with his forefinger. "Do we have any leads? Has any other attendee been attacked?"

"We have no reports of any other attacks." The chief let loose a heavy sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow as he walked. He was not a young man anymore, and all this walking was starting to get to him. "I'm thinking Trad 6 or the Simon might be involved, but that's just a hunch and we can't go pointing fingers yet. Especially since they're also attendees." The chief paused for a moment before answering the agent's first question. "There was evidence of unencountered flame types being used. Other than that, we have nothing. Yet."

The two agents eventually passed through the tunnel connecting the lobby to the balcony outlet and into the gymnasium. There was a noticeable excitement in the air as people packed the gymnasium below, waiting for the Vongola's big reveal.

"Hey, chief... isn't Barbra here?"

The chief nearly tripped at the words. Right. Yes, his wife, the pulitzer-prize-winning journalist, was here in what she called "an official capacity". She wasn't going to miss the Vongola's first public event in decades, and he had to run security as CEDEF brass. That inevitably meant...

"Yeah, she is," he muttered. "And she probably brought Joey, too." Joey. That was his young son.

Davis chuckled softly. "The wife gets what the wife wants, huh?"

"Yeah yeah," the chief said jovially, waving away Davis's banter with his free hand. "We have an event to secure, remember?"

"Yes, sir."

Several meters ahead of the agents, leaning against the banister that lined the perimeter of the balcony, stood two figures. The first was a man of average height, sporting an olive-colored oversized winter coat, its furred hood resting along his shoulders like the beginnings of a cape. He had his back turned to the CEDEF agents and seemed to be surveying the crowd below. The second was a boy, short, with his back to the banister, a bored expression on his face.

Davis and the boy both caught each other's gazes at the same time. The boy went wide-eyed for a moment before levelling Davis with the most fiendish leer the agent had ever seen on a human being... and he dealt with criminals and vagrants on the regular. The intent behind the expression was obvious: I'll kill you. With his elbow, Davis nudged his chief who caught sight of the boy's demonic visage almost immediately.

The two CEDEF agents made a beeline towards this new and suspicious target.

Noticing his mistake, the boy completely changed his countenance, adopting a child's smile and breaking eye contact, but it was far too late for that and he knew it. Begrudgingly, he reached over and gently poked the man standing next to him.

Of course the man ignored him, choosing instead to keep his eyes on the crowd below.

As the CEDEF agents drew nearer, the clack! clack! of their synchronized steps echoing across the ceramic, Davis muttered a question to his superior. "Do you recognize them?"

"No," the chief responded, drawing back his long coat and revealing the handle of a gun. He rested his hand there in full view for all to see. Of course, he'd need permission before he could engage, but it could still be used to intimidate. "I was on the cameras all day. I didn't see anyone even remotely matching their descriptions go through any of the official entrances."

Back at the edge of the balcony, the boy poked at the man beside him once more. "Hey," he whispered, his voice urgent. Still, he was ignored. The boy gripped the fabric of the man's coat and gave a hard tug. "Alastor."

Apparently, this was annoying enough that the man, Alastor, was forced to acknowledge the child. "What?" He hissed.

"Uh, we kinda have a problem." He gestured with his chin towards the fast-approaching CEDEF agents. Alastor turned just as the agents came to a stop, leaving about a half-meter of space between them.

To Davis, the two looked like twins. They both had similar hair—stringy and black—though the styles were radically different. They also had the same eyes. The same red-amber irises. Similar facial structures. Surely they were from a specific famiglia, though the agent had never seen them before.

Suspicious.

"Identify yourselves," the chief demanded, hand still resting on the gun at his hip.

Immediately, Alastor's expression transformed from a semi-surprised frown into an amiable and well-to-do smile. It looked genuine. "Good day, agents," Alastor began, his voice and tone warm and pleasant to the ear. He was positively charming. "Are you doing well?"

"I said: identify yourselves." He repeated, his tone firm and harsh.

"Certainly," Alastor said, his voice inflecting a bit. He shrunk back a bit, his eyes taking on a slightly-confused look, his voice shaking a bit. "I'm Alastor. Alastor Rizzo. And this here is my—" he paused for a millisecond longer than normal, though the agents didn't notice "—brother. My little brother. We call him Al. He's kinda shy though, just turned 11 yesterday." Alastor looked down at the boy. "Say hi, Al."

The boy Al's expression had morphed to one of reticence. He'd shifted towards taciturnity, his shoulders hunched, his eyes cast downward, his posture becoming soft and demure. To any onlooker, he looked like an innocent and unassuming child.

"H-hi," he muttered meekly, grabbing onto Alastor hand with one of his own, keeping his eyes cast downward.

The air between the two CEDEF agents and the two brothers changed, with the agents becoming a bit less sure of themselves.

Davis reached for his 2-way radio. "Control, I need you to check a name for me," he said, depressing the radio's call button as he spoke. "An Alastor. Rizzo." He over-enunciated, speaking slowly so as to not be misheard. "He has a brother here, too. An Al."

He got a response almost immediately. Will do.

While Davis radioed in, the chief kept pressing. "Do you have identification?" With a smile, Alastor reached into his pocket and withdrew a wallet, handing it to the agent. In it was a license that had his name and picture on it. "And why are you here, Mr. Rizzo?"

The warmth of Alastor's smile even reached his eyes. "Just to observe. We wouldn't miss this for the world! Isn't that right, Al?"

"Observe?" Davis replied, his tone skeptical.

Al, still clinging desperately to Alastor's hand, nodded quickly. "Mommy wanted to be here, but she said we should come instead." Alastor followed up by chuckling, a fluffy sound full of joy.

"Don't be scared, Al. The nice men just wanna know more about us."

"L-like... friends?" He pronounced it "fwiends".

"Yeah!" Alastor mussed Al's hair with his hand, eliciting a smile from the boy. "Just like friends." He turned back to the agents. "Isn't that right, gentlemen?"

At that point, Davis's radio sputtered to life. CEDEF-12, this is Control. Without taking his eyes off the pair, Davis reached for his radio, depressing the call switch. "Go ahead Control." It was a second before he got a response, the silence deafening.

That name you gave us, Alastor Rizzo.

The agents looked at Alastor, who simply smiled with his entire face, his eyes becoming narrow. He waved slightly with his free hand, as if to say that's me.

CEDEF-12. Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo. It checks out. He's on the admittance list.

The two agents first looked at each other, then at the radio, and then at Alastor and his brother.

"Er, yeah." The chief handed Alastor his wallet back. "Sorry about that, guys."

"No problem at all!" Alastor motioned with his hands. "Perish the thought, you're just doing your jobs. There're a lot of bad people out there."

"Yeah, definitely. Thank you very much for understanding." The chief said, bowing slightly in apology. "Please, enjoy the rest of the ceremony."

"We will, thanks."

With looks of embarrassment fresh upon their faces, the two agents turned and began walking away, headed for one of the staircases that lead to the gymnasium's ground floor, where a majority of the guests were currently located.

"That'll teach us to profile people, huh," the chief muttered, sighing. "Can't let crap get to us, Davis, or we'll get sloppy."

"Yeah. They just... something was off about them."

"Something's off about everyone." The chief replied, his tone becoming softer. He was staring off into the crowd below as he spoke, a smile spreading across his face as if he'd just seen something incredibly beautiful. "Gotta let the detective thing go, man. You're CEDEF now."

Davis couldn't help but crack a grin at that. "Yes, sir."

CEDEF-12, this is Control.

Davis reached for the radio. He slowed his pace as he did, lagging behind his superior, who'd already reached the top of the staircase. "Go ahead, Control."

CEDEF-12, be advised, there is no entry here for a brother to an Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo or an "Al" on the admittance list or anywhere in our records.

"What?" Davis didn't depress the call button that time, but still spoke as if expecting confirmation. Immediately, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, turning back towards the pair of brothers. Alastor gave him a curt wave, the smile returning to his face. Though he'd tried to conceal it, Alastor had been watching the two agents like hawks the entire time. The kid, Al, hid behind Alastor's leg, hand still grasping his brother's.

The agent's eyes went wide. He'd just noticed something.

Davis began walking at a brisk pace, except he wasn't headed towards his chief and the stairs. He was headed back towards the duo. As he approached, Alastor maintained his sanguine demeanor, but the boy, Al, frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing, the innocence visibly draining from his countenance. He let go of Alastor, placing both of his hands behind his back instead.

When Davis came within arm's reach of the duo, he completely ignored Alastor's greetings, instead kneeling and snatching at Al's right wrist. He caught it.

A look of shock flashed across Alastor's face. "Sir!" He began, his tone indignant. "You're being very rude to my—!"

"Shut up." Davis interrupted, holding up Al's hand as if it were some sort of prize. The boy struggled to remove his hand from the man's grip, but it was to no avail. "You see this shit?" He nodded towards the kid's wrist, his tone caustic. There, on the otherwise pristine white cuff of his suit, were speckles of red.

Upon noticing it, Alastor's visage of the "perfect-happy-man" cracked ever so slightly.

"This?" He held up Al's cuffs. "I know this. This is blood."

"Ah, sir," Alastor began, his voice calm. "Surely—"

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped. "You two are coming with us."

Several meters behind the agent was the chief, who'd just noticed his fellow agent hadn't followed him. At a jog, he was rapidly closing the distance. Noting that his chief was inbound, Davis returned his full attention to the boy before him, his expression steely and confident.

Al responded with the icy stare of a hardened criminal, his red-amber irises nearly glowing with the effort. From the sleeve of the remaining hand he had hidden behind his back dropped a small elliptical black object. It landed silently in the boy's palm. Without looking back at or moving his arm, he flicked a switch on the object, causing a sharp silver blade to pop out without making a sound.

It was a switchblade.

Suddenly, Al sneezed. It was a big one that rocked his little body. He stepped forward, as if regaining his balance. The force of the sneeze combined with his pushing against the agent with his arm caused Davis to lose his glasses, which fell from his face and onto the ground. It was painfully obvious that the boy had done this on purpose.

Davis frowned at him for a few moments before reaching down to pick up his spectacles.

And that's when Al struck.

Brandishing the weapon for all to see, the boy reached up and slammed the blade—its metal coated in mysterious black flames—straight into the base of Davis's skull. There was no hesitation in his actions. There was no mercy in his eyes. Only glee.

However, before the attack could connect, Alastor snatched Al's hand out of the air, knife and all, pressing his thumb into the boy's wrist and twisting it around his back, forcing the hand upwards towards his shoulder blades. It was a particularly brutal hammerlock, and it had been executed expertly. Al yelped in surprise but didn't otherwise move, lest his shoulder become dislocated. Alastor wasn't finished, however. He squeezed hard on the boy's knife hand, causing the sharp metal handle of the switchblade to dig into his tender skin. Even when blood began to dribble from the boy's hand and onto the floor, Alastor refused to relent, and Al refused to cry out.

The kid had to be punished for this insolence.

Davis returned his glasses to his face. It was just then that the chief came upon the scene, and he'd seen everything. Without delay, he went for his weapon, unfastening the protective slip and nearly drawing it from its holster. It was the tone of Alastor's voice that gave him pause.

"You two are CEDEF, right?" By now, Alastor's face had changed. It was as if he'd been swapped with a completely different person. The agents could see it in his eyes. He'd become cold. Calculating. Dangerous. "And you," Alastor motioned to the chief with his chin. "You look like you're high up in the ranks." The chief narrowed his eyes, but Alastor continued. "I was watching you. Primitive people tend to stare at shiny objects, don't they?"

The chief took a step forward. "Enough. Come with us—"

"You don't get it, soldier-man. I was watching you. Just now." Alastor motioned with his chin. "Those kids over there. You were awfully interested in them." Alastor's eyebrows shot up, as if his question weren't rhetorical. "You have a kid here?" The color drained from the agent's face. Alastor continued, a smile touching his lips. "Ah. I thought so." Alastor turned his head, looking over his shoulder and down at the crowd. "You see that guy next to those kids?" He motioned with his chin to the gaggle of kids who'd surrounded a particular gold-haired young man. This man was dressed in a long-sleeved green shirt and loose khaki-colored cargo pants. "His name is Cornelius. He's a good friend of mine—one of several I have at this event. Loyal. Ready to flip on a dime."

Alastor nodded slightly as he spoke his next words, he eyes boring into the agent's, his voice growing softer in volume yet more intense. More dangerous. "You wanna know what he can do to those kids?" He didn't wait for a response, shaking his head from side to side as if answering for the agent. "You don't wanna know what he can do to those kids." Alastor took a step forward, once again nodding as he spoke. "Wanna know what he'll do to your kid?" Again, he didn't wait for a response, shaking his head on the agent's behalf. This time, however, he let the silence sit for a few moments before continuing, his eyes growing wide, taking on a frenetic quality. He looked like a man capable of anything. "You don't wanna know what he'll do to your kid."

The agent didn't respond. He just stood there, frozen. The other agent, Davis, looked up at his superior for direction. "Chief?" Still, he did not respond. Beads of sweat had taken to his forehead. The man was assessing his options. "Chief?" Davis repeated, his tone hinting at exasperation. "Are we going to take them?"

"Check," Alastor uttered, sighing in contempt. Like a flash flood, the menace in his expression and demeanor vanished, replaced again by the visage of the perfect-happy-man. He sported a smile so warm and genuine that the skin around his eyes wrinkled. "No false moves, okay? I'd hate a repeat of the Bovino family tragedy." He met the chief's eyes once more. "Do we understand each other, soldier-man?"

"Chief?!" Davis repeated a third time, looking for direction.

It was then that the agent made his decision. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and began to walk away, refastening the strap that held his gun to his belt. He was headed for the staircase at a nonchalant pace, as if the past five minutes hadn't even happened.

Davis did a doubletake before releasing his death grip on Al's wrist and jogging to catch up with his superior. The two men moved downstairs and disappeared into the crowd.

"Checkmate," Alastor uttered as they disappeared, a viciously arrogant smirk spreading across his face. A while later, he released his grip on Al's knife hand. The boy nearly cried out at the sharp pain that exploded in his shoulder. Instantly, Al dropped the knife, the bloody thing clattering to the floor. He brought his hand in front of his face, eyeing the damage.

"You jerk," Al hissed.

"You fool," Alastor snapped in retort. "The Vongola guardians aren't even here yet. Creating a scene now would have given us away. Get it?"

From the front jacket pocket of his suit, Alastor removed the red handkerchief, using it to wipe Al's blood from his hand. "One day you'll learn the value of patience." Al was just staring at his bleeding hand, saying nothing. Without warning, Alastor wrapped the handkerchief around the boy's wound. It was large enough to completely surround his small hand twice over. With a tug, Alastor tied off the handkerchief, fashioning a makeshift bandage. "I know this for a fact."

Al didn't respond, choosing instead to kneel and retrieve his switchblade, which he buffed on the leg of his suit pants before returning it up his sleeve. Once again, Alastor turned his back to the rest of the balcony, his gaze panning over the crowd of suit-and-tie types below him.

After a while, Al joined him, balancing his weight atop the balcony railing with his forearms. "Was that an okay move, letting them go?"

"Hah." Alastor looked back over at Cornelius, who was still talking to the children around him in an animated fashion. "They know their place now. People are my playthings, afterall. Speaking of..."

Alastor held up his index finger. Through a series of practiced hand signals, he could communicate to his people the location of any target. Like local GPS for any Rizzo that happened to be watching. If they caught his eye in return, they could signal him to request a specific Vongola's location. Just now, Alastor had spotted the one person he'd been waiting all day for.

Reida Sawada. The number one. The legendary Vongola XI.

She'd begun to make her way forward towards the podium and staging area at the far back of the auditorium. Arriving along with her was the Vongola's Sun guardian, the young Trevor Sawada. As a person, Alastor didn't much care for children. Too insolent. Too naive.

He shot a glance at Al, who remained wholly unaware.

He'd also been tracking the movements of the Mist guardian. The race-traitor Shaji Ai. He'd read all about her. Just as well, he noted the existences of the Cloud and Storm guardians, Rosa Kuromaku and Troy Takumi, the latter appearing a bit later than expected.

He couldn't help but grin. He'd just signaled to a particular person in the crowd. The target of his correspondence was a large clean-shaven muscular man in a trenchcoat, dressed like a highly decorated general in some country's military, his stringy black hair gelled-over into a series of small stylish spikes. His only oddity was the eye patch he sported.

"Looks like my King piece is on the move. Just a few more Vongola to go and things can finally get started."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Annalise "Anna" Cortega Character Portrait: Elysia
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Elysia had never been the kind to start a conversation without purpose. It is either she had been asked to or there is concern for that individual. That is why as she stood near the vicinity of the Star Guardian. There were no words coming out of her lips, for in the end, Annalise was not someone she is overly concerned about when it comes to duties. Annalise had always been proper and reliable in every order or responsibility tasked to her. It is why she remained still and silent as she allowed her emerald-like eyes observe the bustling crowd. It was then she caught sight of Cornelius treating the younger guests with a story. The scene brought a small yet whimsical smile upon her lips. The Quasar Guardian is kind, for children would not gather someone who does not resonate such innocence, even if there was also a terrifying side to him. Well, everyone has that portion inside of them.

She also followed Cornelius' antics to the sweets table and consequently showing it to the Meteor Guardian, Tyde. Those two are the closest among them as they get along pretty well. A gentle look is reflected upon her eyes, but it changed into curiosity when a presence of a Vongola Guardian was present among the two gentlemen. She remembered that the young person is the Sun Guardian, Trevor Sawada. There was also another present in the midst who was the Dark Matter Guardian, Kurai. There was concern in her eyes as she knew that Kurai was not inclined to such huge crowds such as these. She knew that Kurai was doing her best and for that she shall respect that endeavor as she prevented herself from going to where the younger girl is.

It was then Elysia's attention was briefly taken by Annalise who had directed a question at her. They were not looking at each other as she remained in her position with her back reflecting that of Annalise. "Yes. He is already here along with the Vongola XI." The assigned target for her by the Master Rizzo is the Sun Guardian, Trevor Sawada. She was uncertain to the reasons why he is her assigned target, but she has no complaints, no matter who is supposed to be her enemy, she will answer to it as long as it is the Master Rizzo's wish. Her eyes fixated on the Sun Guardian as she recalled all the details she had read about him. It was then he noticed the presence of another who is deemed as the Mist Guardian, Ai Shaji, an alien by her provided files. She has no personal feelings about of the aliens or even towards anyone else for the matter. Sometimes, she wondered if that was fine to feel no sense of any strong emotions. Truly odd, is it not?

Her musings had been disturbed when her eyes coordinated her to the Cloud Guardian, Rosa Kuromaku. She seemed very expressive of her thoughts as the records had indicated. There seemed to be a bit of discussion going on with the Storm Guardian, Troy Takumi and soon after with the Thunder Guardian, Vincenzo Vongola. It seemed the Vongola Guardians are complete for the Rain Guardian, Akio Yamada was now with Reida Sawada, the infamous Sky Guardian and Leader. It was then she felt the connection with the Master Rizzo. Her eyes raised a bit to find her Master at the balcony. The uneasiness inside of her subsided upon seeing him. Her eyes held comfort and relief, but solidified into an air of seriousness when she noticed one of his gestures. It was about to begin and this place would be a battlefield.

Leveling her gaze in front of her, Elysia briefly closed her eyes. "Annalise. They are all here. We shall soon begin." She simply stated as the crowd did not even amount as a casualty to what was about to occur. It did not level with her as all that existed in her reasons are the order and the lingering attachment to her fellow guardians. "Please stay unharmed." It is her only wish for her fellow guardians and nothing else even to the unwitting people surrounding them or to the Vongola Guardians. These people were all here for the Ceremony of the Vongola Famiglia which was the same for them, albeit with a contradictory intention. Their purpose was not to serve as witnesses but to take the rings as theirs for certain reasons.

Opening her eyes again, Elysia knew that the next events shall be inevitable and for someone her who appeared to be frozen. It was only during these kind of moments, she can move.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Vincenzo Vongola Character Portrait: Annalise "Anna" Cortega Character Portrait: Kurai Rin Character Portrait: Trevor Sawada Character Portrait: Althaia Rizzo Character Portrait: Rosa Kuromaku Character Portrait: Tyde Rumerio Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Troy Takumi Character Portrait: Akio Yamada Character Portrait: Cornelius V. Roquet Character Portrait: Elysia
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"Please excuse me, but shouldn't... You go too?"

Ai nodded, although her invisible third eye was staring at the box weapon. Perhaps it was designed to detect the usage of illusions or of flames in general which caused it to react, or Aliens. The latter was highly unlikely, however. With her cue, Ai went back toward the stage where she saw all the other guardians had gathered, already seated and ready to begin. Upon making it on the stage, she spoke, not to the boss or any of her fellow guardians, but to the External Advisor, whom was shuffling his cue cards while some adjustments were being made to the microphone and the speakers

"All the guardians are present," Ai stated simply, as if it weren't already clearly obvious. DiCaccio didn't even need to glance behind himself to confirm it.

"Yes, I can see that," he confirmed, "And it appears things have gone smoothly so far... for the most part." DiCaccio bent over a bit and spoke in a low voice with the intention that nobody eavesdropping could hear them. "I've been informed that there was an attack on one of the allied families, the Bovino family, less than an hour earlier from now. Three deaths, including the boss, but not the daughter. We've no information about who the killers could possibly be, but we've confirmed that deathperation flames were involved, albeit we're not sure what kind yet. I don't think it is of relation to this ceremony, but my men are still on alert.

"Naturally, the Vongola family is expected to help deal with something like this, seeing as that was the Tenth's code. Currently, I've already ordered my own men to investigate, but it is up to the Vongola head to make the decision to pursue. Now, I don't want to give the Boss anything to worry about right before she's to make a huge public appearance, but I'm going to have to inform her about it tomorrow. I'm sure she wont have any issues about this heroic stuff. I'm just wondering if something like this would be too big for her right now..." DiCaccio trailed off in consideration, glancing at Reida.

He seemed to come back to himself when he looked back at Ai whom was staring at him ever-so intently, standing back up again. "Ah, yes, make of that what you will, Ai," he told her, no longer speaking in a low voice, "For now, we must focus on the ceremony. You know where you've got to be, so go join your friends." Ai stared back blankly. "You're Boss and fellow guardians," DiCaccio corrected. Ai nodded and took a seat on the stage. Though DiCaccio said it wasn't likely of relevance to the ceremony, Ai couldn't help but consider every possibility of a threat. To do so, however, she'd first have to consider the Bovino family and of their relevance. Only, somehow, Ai felt the Bovino family had some sort of significance to them that she was not considering. Maybe she'd consult the TID about them.

With everybody present, the presentation was underway. DiCaccio tested the microphone personally, while getting everybody's attention. With a final lively "Good evening," all the room had their undivided attention on him. He smiled and began to speak.

"Indeed, good evening everybody. I'm sure I've spoken to many of you personally and in fact, if I haven't spoken to you already, then please, do be sure to do so by the end of this presentation, but anyway, my name is Lorenzo DiCaccio and I had been the acting head of this company for about four years now up until recently. In reality, I'm the head of a branching company known as CEDEF, a security agency that began as a simple traffic redirection organization. Indeed, I've been rather vague about the exact content of this presentation, although I'm sure you've all heard the word 'Box' thrown about here and there. Well, that's quite simple. That is because everything we wish to present," he raised a small orange baseball-sized cube with a clam print on it, "Is contained in this little box." He paused to allow the intrigue to sit in as people struggled to get a clear look at the small thing, looking quite sure of himself.

"Now, I'm sure we all have the same question in our heads. 'What could be so special and yet be kept in such a tiny box?' Well, in this little box of ours are all sorts of little secrets, secrets that perhaps were never intended to be discovered by society, secrets of the universe we have been kept in the dark about. Today, I hope to bring these secrets to light as not only is the secret to the next technological revolution hidden within this box, but the secret to the future of our company, Vongola Corporations.

"Now, of course, Vongola Corporations already makes over a trillion dollars a year. Of course, that's absurdly more than we've been making about 70 years ago, when the last head was already beginning to turn this company into what it is today. Back then, we would have only been making a few billion, although back then, of course, that was a lot of money. However, with this new industry we plan on opening with the secrets that are contained in this box, we expect to make it to our second trillion within the next twenty years. Who knows, in a hundred years, we may have a gazillion.

"Of course, we're all here because of what is inside this small little box and what is inside is the future of this company. Indeed, this presentation is not only about the future of technology but the future of Vongola Corporations. Not only do we hope to enter a new era with this new technology, of which I'll reveal soon enough, but we wish to do so under the direction of our new young head, Ms. Reida Sawada." DiCaccio gestured to the young boss. "Now, she may be quite young, but don't let her appearance deceive you. She is a very passionate and intelligent individual on the inside and we are proud to enter a new era of not only industry, but of life, with her guidance. After all, the former head, Tsunayoshi Sawada, had inherited the company when he was only fourteen, and look where we are now!" The audience applauded.

DiCaccio quieted them. "Now, before we proceed, we would like to have the new company head say a few words concerning her plans for the future of the company to open this presentation. We would appreciate it if you held your applause until the end refrain from taking pictures until cued. Any questions directed toward her may be asked at the end of this presentation or directly to her afterward." He explained it with a slight sternness directed toward anybody who might have given her trouble if it was picked up.

"And now," DiCaccio called, "May we all direct our attention to the honorable Eleventh Vongola head, Reida Sawada."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Annalise "Anna" Cortega Character Portrait: Kurai Rin Character Portrait: Althaia Rizzo Character Portrait: Tyde Rumerio Character Portrait: Cornelius V. Roquet Character Portrait: Elysia
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The man was tall, that was for sure. He weighed in at just over six feet two inches, 200 pounds. Maybe. He wasn't really counting anymore.

He completely towered over those that stood around him, that was for sure. Perhaps that was why he found it hard to pay them any mind, choosing instead to lean against a nearby wall, arms folded across his chest. These "mafia bosses," business executives, scientists, researchers... humans. Primitive humans. All of them scurrying about, full of their own self importance, unaware that their entire species rests fully within the shadow of annihilation. A shadow cast not by some potential environmental disaster or a coming war between families or atomic powers. No, this was something else entirely. Something they weren't prepared for. Something they weren't imagining.

Not in their wildest dreams.

From the inside of his trenchcoat, the man pulled a cigarette. Using a single hand, he brought the death stick up to his mouth. Immediately upon placing it against his lips, the cigarette's inert tip exploded into incandescence. It looked as if he'd just held it to an open flame. From the dirty looks several onlookers levelled at him, one would think he'd just strapped on a suicide vest. Still, he paid them little attention, choosing to focus his remaining eye on some other sight. Yes, he only had one eye. He lost the other a decade or so ago during a particularly nasty skirmish, employing what he believed to be a discreet black eyepatch to cover up what little remained.

Not that the prospect of being stared at phased him either way. These primitive humans... perhaps to them he looked edgy and mysterious.

Closing his eye, he took a slow drag from the cigarette, rocking his head back slightly, enjoying every second as the toxins pervaded his lungs. That possibility of lung cancer or the like didn't bother him. He wasn't really concerned with longevity at this point, and while he was here, in this foreign place and time, he would take care to savor such luxuries. Where he was from, the old ways—the old luxuries—were all but dead. There was nothing left but the day-to-day chore of survival.

Very soon, this world, this time, would look more like his own, and, like every other timeline he'd peeked into, the result would be the same. Humanity would be destroyed, here and everywhere else. It was inevitable, against an adversary superior in nearly every way.

The man exhaled through his nose, a thick stinky cloud of cigarette smoke enveloping the immediate area. Several of the more offended guests decided to move away, muttering under their breath, but again, the man paid them no mind.

After a moment, he opened his eye, sweeping his gaze over the crowd for the umpteenth time. Once more, he caught sight of a Rizzo. Tyde, this time. He had to admit, it was pleasant to see his guardians in person again, even if they were several decades younger than he remembered. Standing beside Tyde was another Rizzo, Cornelius. He recognized them from their hair styles.

Ah, now that brought back memories.

The Tyde and Cornelius of the timeline from which he hailed looked exceedingly similar to their younger counterparts in the here and now. His eye landed on the others as well. First Althaia, then Elysia, and finally Anna. They were all spitting images of their future selves. He was sure the same applied to the young Kurai, who was a regal being back in his timeline. She was too young in this present, her body too short, for him to catch sight of her now, wherever she was in the crowd. Still, it was fascinating. They weren't so different, these Rizzo and his own, except for one main point.

Despite himself, the man grinned. It wasn't a pleasant expression—more of a jackal's smirk than anything. It was the total irony of it all that brought about the facial contortion. The main difference between the Rizzo of his timeline and the Rizzo of this foreign timeline was simple.

In his future, all of his guardians were dead. Of the Rizzo main family, he was all that remained. He—Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo.

Of course, he became king like he'd always wanted. King. Lord of the Rizzo, or of whatever was left. In fact, he'd become a general of sorts. Coordinator for all that remained of the resistance, including the Vindice and survivors from the Cervello. Yes, that's what they'd been reduced to, a "resistance". Mere actors playing within someone else's game, someone else's rules. It was like admitting that they were already beaten. Their only option now was to resist. Not defeat, not cripple, not dominate, but simply to resist—and even that wasn't going well.

To top it all off, he was alone. His guardians were gone. His family, gone. There was nothing left and nowhere to go. His universe was doomed, just like the myriad others. Doomed.

Alastor took another puff from the cigarette, this one shorter, removing it from his mouth and exhaling yet another cloud of gray. This time, his gaze landed on another. Clear on the other side of the gymnasium, standing atop the balcony that separated the entrance area from the rest of the gymnasium, was a guy. Alastor was hesitant to call him a man, for he was yet more boy than man. He had not been shaped by the tragedy of inevitability. Of death and suffering. Of true war.

Not yet.

The guy was looking down from above, eyeing the crowd below him with what Alastor knew for sure was an unhealthy amount of disdain. Next to him stood a young child, a preteen by the look of him, balancing himself on the balcony railing with his forearms. The two looked very similar, with stringy black hair not unlike Alastor's own, though he had his gelled-over into a series of small stylish spikes. It was a future fad.

Still, in a way, Alastor pitied them. His experiences made him cold, merciless, and virtually undefeatable in combat. He'd seen every type of battle, every type of savagery, every manner of death conceivable at the hands of their enemy. By comparison, these younger greener versions of himself only thought they knew what it was to struggle. To crawl and scrape for every last inch on a battlefield littered with the remains of your comrades.

They would soon learn. Everyone would. It would be mankind's grand finale.

Suddenly, the guy atop the balcony raised a single finger. His index finger. Alastor immediately knew what that meant.

The time for action was nigh.

Alastor dropped his cigarette, giving it a curt stomp with the back of his heel. The number one had arrived. His target. The eleventh Vongola boss: Reida Sawada. Even in his timeline, she was legendary, renown for her fighting prowess and her reign over the final era of the Vongola empire. It'd be interesting to pit his full ability against the likes of such a historical figure. Hopefully she wouldn't disappoint, even if he was couple decades too early to meet her at her prime.

Once given the signal, he would engage.

Though the chances were essentially non-existent, perhaps this would be the timeline that would change things. Win the war in the past, before it even starts. Perhaps.

Or perhaps not.

The Vongola XI had already begun her speech when a distinct and all too familiar reverberation reached his ears. A SNAP! that could only come from one person. It was the signal. The time to strike was now.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Vincenzo Vongola Character Portrait: Trevor Sawada Character Portrait: Rosa Kuromaku Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Troy Takumi Character Portrait: Akio Yamada
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"Now, before we proceed, we would like to have the new company head say a few words concerning her plans for the future of the company to open this presentation. We would appreciate it if-"

Reida's shoulders stiffened slightly as DiCaccio's words pricked at her ears. When he had first starting speaking, she'd been listening rather intently, excitement bubbling in her stomach as the time for her to rise slowly approached. However, as his introduction continues on, her eyes had drifted to the audience. For some reason, she spark of excitement in her stomach had grown less and less pleasant until it melted into nervousness, though she couldn't really figure out the reason. Sure, she was about to give her very first public speech, and as the new head of the Vongola, no less, but she couldn't understand why she'd suddenly start to feel heavy from that. There was something else bothering her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Her head turned from side to side as she looked over her Guardians, wondering if they were feeling the same paranoia that she was, but she couldn't seem to read their expressions. They were probably focusing on DiCaccio, after all.

"And now, may we all direct our attention to the honorable Eleventh Vongola head, Reida Sawada."

Her attention was quickly redirected to the front as the applauds of the audience echoed off the walls of the gymnasium. DiCaccio's voice had blurred out to her for a moment as she searched for an answer to her nervousness, taking her a second to realize it was time for her to stand. She unintentionally hopped out of her chair, causing the seat to move backward a couple inches, but she made a fast attempting at regaining herself and gave DiCaccio a smile and a nod before making her way to the podium.

Standing there, she waited for the clapping to die down before clearing her throat and opening her mouth to begin her speech, the words on the paper she had written skimming through her mind like a movie reel.

"You've all come here today to learn about the new, revolutionized tools that will improve humanity as we know it. Before I go into detail of this technology, I'd like to first say a few words as the head of the Vongola Company. To have my father pass down his title to me was an honor far greater than any trophy or medal. For him to intrust me with the company that my late grandfather, Sawada Tsunayoshi, started was something I never expected, but even as a child I made a promise to both my father and the previous Vongola Head that I would move this company farther than either of them could imagine. As the young adult I am now, I still intend to keep that promise."

The nervousness that had been pricking at her before had nearly vanished now, her mind too focused on the words she had written down. Though she also felt a slight nudge of disappointment as she spoke. Here she was speaking greatly of her father, but he hadn't bothered to show up to the ceremony or even send her message. Come to think of it, she hadn't heard from him since he told her he was going overseas on business three months ago.

She paused for a moment, somewhat to redirect her thoughts and somewhat to add a little dramatic effect into her speech.

"I can't keep such a promise on my own, of course. My grandfather wouldn't of brought the company this far without the help of his closest friends and subordinates. As such, I take great pleasure in introducing my very own personal team."

She took a step back and turned to the side, angling herself in a way so she was still mostly facing the audience.

"Yamada Akio has confidence that exceeds even my own, never letting that confidence falter no matter the situation. Kuromaku Rosa is always aiming for the best possible outcome, never accepting anything less than perfect, her confidence easily matches Yamada-san's."

As she spoke each of their names, she signaled to them with her hand to let the audience know whom it was she talking about. It felt a little strange calling them by their last names, but she decided to do so since it made her look more professional.

"It takes creativity to come up with the most interesting ideas, which is the role of Takumi Troy. Sawada Trevor, the youngest member of my team and also my adopted brother, has medical capabilities that match those of high-ranking doctors. Ai Shaji is never unprepared, always being ready for whatever the future may bring. Vongola Vincenzo even wears the name of the company as her own surname. She's level-headed and intelligent to no end."

She once again turned to face the audience head on as she continued to speak. "It's quite clear that both my team and I are young and still gaining experience, but with this youth comes endless possibilities for the future. With this youth comes the determination and imaginative thinking that the Vongola Company needs to reach it's most successful peak since it first came to be."

Taking in a breath at the end of her personal speech, she waited a moment as the crowds applauding started up once again. She felt warmed up now, prepared for the long explanation she would give next to finally introduce the Box Weapons, or rather tools, to the public. However, as the clapping slowly began to die down, Reida's eyes had locked onto a certain individual. The eye patch was the first thing that she noticed, along with the rock that had dropped into her stomach and had begun to make her feel slightly ill the moment she laid eyes on him. Something about him wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.

"This isn't right. He shouldn't be here. He's not supposed to be...why do I feel cold all of a sudden?"

Though she hadn't noticed yet herself, her fingers had begun to trace the notch on the back of the podium. It had been set up early that morning, with her weapon concealed inside in case of emergency. She became aware of the movement of her fingers when she realized the crowd had been standing in silence for a good few second now as they awaited her to continue. She swallowed dryly, trying to move her focus back onto the explanation she was supposed to give.

"That's enough about myself...I'm sure..you're all ready to hear...the real reason why this ceremony was.." She was speaking slightly quieter than usual, her voice hesitant as wavered on and off as the words left her lips. Her eyes had becoming completely drawn to the large, dark-haired man that had slowly started making his way through the crowd, growing closer and closer to the stage.

"This is..."

Her eyes moved frantically over the crowd, wondering if anyone else had sensed the aura coming from him. The majority of the crowd only looked confused as to why she had suddenly silenced her speech. Had her Guardians noticed? Had DiCaccio? If she looked back at them now, it would only cause more confusion, but she couldn't ignore this feeling.

"This is wrong!"

Though it was quiet, nearly silent to her hear, she heard the faint sound of a finger snapping. In that same instant, she ripped open the small door that had been carved into the podium and grasped her nunchaku. In another swift move, she turned and reached for her brother with her free hand and took hold of his own hand. A threat had made it's way into the gymnasium, and not one person who was posted to make sure such a thing wouldn't happen had realized it.

"I need everyone to get as many people out as possible!" she said to DiCaccio, a hint of fierceness in her tone. She wasn't asking, this was an order given by the 11th herself. "Now!" This time she directed her order towards her Guardians, all of them except for er brother whose hand she was already gripping. By the time she was able to give this order, the voices of the crowd, surprised and afraid at the events that were now taking place, had grown loud and jumbled into an inexplicable noise.

She practically jumped down the stairs, kicking off her heels as she did so, and pulled her brother behind her as she sprinted towards the exit. She had no time to explain her reason for leaving the gymnasium while it was under attack. Anyone could assume that she was running away and leaving her subordinates to take care of the danger, but in truth she had made a single error before leaving her room earlier. Her box weapons had been placed in a nice black shoulder purse that she was supposed to take with her, but in her rush earlier she had completely forgotten it, leaving it on her bed. Normally she wouldn't be so concerned with retrieving them, but right no she knew she needed to get to them at all costs, though she wouldn't be able to explain how she knew.

Halfway down the hall she halted. The outfit she had on was much too difficult to move quickly in, and the tights over her feet were slippery on the floors of the building. She released Trevor's hand and first pulled on her tights, ripping out the bottoms so her feet could show through. Next she pulled on her skirt until the side had ripped up to the middle of her thigh. It was a shame she had to ruin such nice clothes, but she honestly couldn't care less at the moment.

She looked at Trevor, ready to grab his hand and start running again, but she suddenly felt a little guilt for pretty much dragging him up to this point. She couldn't afford to move any slower though, as she needed to get back to her brother to safety and then back to the other Guardians as soon as possible.

"Sorry, Trevor," she said before wrapping her arms around him and lifting him off the ground. She then proceeded to sprint down the hallway carrying the blond boy in a cradle-like fashion.

It was convenient that her assigned room was only a four-minute sprint from the ceremonies location. So far it didn't seem like any enemies were following her, but she held her brother tightly and kept every one of her senses on edge despite that. It had been drilled into her to never drop her guard, even when you believe nothing can go wrong.

Reaching her door, she came to an abrupt stop and, letting Trevor back onto his feet, hastily turned the knob and hurried her way in. The black bag that contained her box weapons were right where she'd left it a few hours ago. With no time to lose, she pulled the strap over her shoulder and stepped back out into the hallway.

"I have to get back to the gymnasium," she said, hesitating a moment before crouching down so she could be eye-level with her brother. "Please find yourself some place to bunker down for now, and no arguing with me either."

To be honest, she felt kind of bad saying these things to him. Hopefully he wouldn't get upset with her treating him like a child. He was a child, after all, but he was also the appointed Sun Guardian. Still, she would see him as her brother before thinking of him as a subordinate, and as a sister she had to make sure he was going to be safe.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Vincenzo Vongola Character Portrait: Trevor Sawada Character Portrait: Rosa Kuromaku Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Troy Takumi Character Portrait: Akio Yamada
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Ai was developing a theory. She had been doing so ever since she sat down. Now, it didn't mean she wasn't paying attention, no, she could multitask. She could watch the crowd, listen to DiCaccio and develop her theory in her mind at the same time. Everything was going as planned, yet Ai felt something was off. Now, if Ai felt something was off, she knew it wasn't just a human sense of unease, like DiCaccio had brushed it off as, but it was part of a complex mental system of which she was designed with that made sure she never made any mistakes.

Ai had spent time studying the Bovino family, in her mind of course. She searched up all the information she could using the Thought Integration Database, the Alien telepathic 'internet', with nothing of interest except their involvement in time travel technology. She was receiving data from the future as well, data that told of the incident that just occurred hours before and what they had done in the future. Interestingly enough, they were involved in some of the early efforts to fight back against the Aliens, assisting in the foundation of the Alien Extinction Project of the future, thanks to the efforts of the next Bovino family boss. Further query had told her that she was involved in that incident. Ai tried to gather information on the killers, but found unsatisfactory results. Either CEDEF kept it a secret or were unable to find an answer.

Stumped, that was a fitting answer. Ai needed a new line of thinking. She thought about her attack the day before the inheritance. That had never appeared on the TID, Ai took care in making sure not even her own kind was aware of it. Indeed, though Ai had said the chances of such an event occurring were slim, DiCaccio had grossly misunderstood her. Chance meant nearly nothing when you were dealing with multiple futures. Chance was merely what percentage of those futures had a certain outcome. Either way, all possibilities were certain to happen. So, if something came from a certain future to eliminate her, another was certain to arrive as well.

Time travel seemed to be the center of this mystery. Ai considered the possibility. The killers may have been time travelers. They couldn't have been Aliens as such an attack like the one that had occurred couldn't possibly have had much of an effect on the future, at least of the future worked the same way it did now.

So what if the incident never occurred? What would the future be like if the incident had never happened. Ai may have not been able to get the answer from the TID because the event had already occurred, so all possible futures were ones where the victims are dead because they are in the present, so she would have to get the answers on her own. Using some information from the TID, Ai could invest a lot of thinking power into calculating all possible futures. Her mind worked at lightning pace, the efficiency of it allowing information to move through her Alien brain close to the speed of light. She made connection after connection, possibility after possibility and theory out of fact and could calculate near an infinite amount of universes. Of course, to any outside observer, it would appear Ai was just sitting there quietly, like she always did. The world was moving on around her at the ever fluctuating speed of time. "Ai Shaji is never unprepared, always being ready for whatever the future may bring."

And then, it came to her. The answer to everything, everything that was about to happen. Snap!

"We are currently in danger."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo
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For the next several minutes, Al chewed on his lower lip, annoyed with the tedium of it all, his neutral expression long since given way to a deep frown. The Vongolas had begun their presentation, and he was suffering under the grinding boredom and stifling monotony of polite clapping, guys in suits getting up and speaking, and blah blah blah. Every now and then, between flexing his injured hand, he would glance over at his elder for a sign.

The man was like a statue, glaring down at the crowd below, eyes locked on the girl who'd just taken the stage moments earlier. The Vongola XI, Reida Sawada, began her speech. Instead of listening, Al simply made faces at the Vongola, hoping one of them would notice him and screw up, but none of them reacted. Maybe he was too far away. Oh well.

It wasn't until towards the middle of the speech, when the Vongola boss began to falter in her enunciation, that Alastor finally acted. Slowly, he raised his arm into the air, and with one loud Space-flame-assisted SNAP! he signaled to his fellow Rizzos:

Attack.

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Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Akio Yamada
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After making his way to his seat Akio zoned in and out during the External Advisor speech. Akio began tugging on his black dress gloves he muttered to himself, "Man, I didn't know this was going to be so boring." Once he was done fidgeting with gloves he looked back up just to see Reida make her way to the podium. Her voice carried over the crowd like a breeze, her words strong and confident. Akio would have been proud of her if he wasn't so bored. He lazily payed attention to her, until her voice began to soften. This immediately caught Akio's attention, then he felt it. Explosions all around the base simultaneously. Reida called out to her guardians "I need everyone to get as many people out as possible!" This was lost on Akio, since he could see it would be pointless for him to help others try and get out of the base. Akio figured his best move was to stop whoever was behind this. Akio made his way through the panicking crowd, once he was out of the crowd he noticed someone off to the side. they were not panicking. From what Akio could tell they actually seemed to enjoy this. Once he moved closer to them he could smell blood on them. It wasn't a very strong smell but who ever this was had recently been covered in it. He grinned deviously already itching to break up his boredom. "So I'm guessing you have something to do with this," he said, pointing with his cane.

((OOC: Sorry this post isn't good but I rushed to make it since I don't know how long the site is going to cooperate with me... I been trying to post for the last two days but every time I go to post the site is down.... so ya lol.))

Edited by Lloyd999

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reida Sawada Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Trevor Sawada Character Portrait: Akio Yamada Character Portrait: Elysia
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The elder Alastor somehow managed a chuckle without cracking a smile. The sound came out as sarcastic instead of jovial, cold and bitter instead of warm or happy.

Truth be told, it'd been a long time since he'd had an enemy run at the very sight of him. So when the Vongola XI snagged her little brother and made a beeline for an exit, he couldn't say he wasn't caught off guard. Perhaps she was a coward, abandoning her friends and allies to their grisly fate. Or perhaps she was playing a more strategic game, trying to lure him into an area more favorable to her style of combat.

That was the type of tactic the aliens loved to pull back where he was from.

Not that it mattered either way. That moment he met the Vongola boss's eyes, he realized: she would be no match for him. This was not the legendary Reida Sawada, the historical paragon of the Vongola family. This was just a scared little girl who'd found herself in way over her head.

Unlike her, he, Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo, was not real. Not here. Not in this time. Not even in this universe. He was more like a ghost, an illusion from another universe—one given flesh and blood by the technological marvel that is the Rizzo Clocktower. All of his memories were intact, as were his unique set of skills, skills honed through perpetual and torturous combat experienced over the course of decades against a merciless and unfeeling enemy far more advanced than he. The only thing he lacked as an illusion in this foreign universe was access to his power. Part of existing as one of three meant his current reserves of deathperation energy were not his own. He was forced to rely on an inferior and unrefined version of his own power, his own flame, from a more boyish version of himself. Worse, that power was further split three ways. The current Alastor's flame output was split evenly amongst himself and his temporal images.

Compared to his real body's nigh-limitless reserves of deathperation energy, with the capacity to output Space flames nearly as pure as that of Maschenny Rizzo, his current flames were as nothing.

Again, not that it really mattered. None of this did. Even in this severely handicapped state, with the mere capacity to manifest a stunted more impure version of his own flame for a much more limited amount of time, he could still handle a child—a little girl and her little friends, all blissfully unaware of the war they had become pawns in.

The true Reida Sawada—the legendary boss—perhaps she'd have given him a run for his money. But this version? This kid? It'd be like taking candy from a baby.

Alastor sighed softly as he walked. He didn't have to move to dodge any of the panicking audience members. They all seemed to flow around him instead, as if he were a mighty stone amidst of a roaring river. Even these primitive humans had a sense who was and was not a threat. As his target and her brother disappeared down a hall, moving at a brisk sprint, Alastor maintained his leisurely pace.

One such as he did not run. Not for anyone.

Moments earlier, Alastor had caught sight of Elysia, the current Alastor's Comet Guardian, giving chase to the Sawada siblings when someone had the audacity to step in his path, barring his way. Alastor didn't recognize him specifically, but could feel the energy radiating from him. He'd long become accustomed to the gentle pressure that those with the capacity to produce deathperation flames gave off. In this regard, the old Sky suite was no different.

"So I'm guessing you have something to do with this," the person said. Alastor chuckled again, this time in disbelief. This person was nothing more than an adolescent. A mere boy dared to address him? A token Guardian was impudent enough to step up to the likes of he?

Preposterous.

Alastor didn't even deign to look at this Vongola, let alone respond, choosing instead to maneuver around the kid like a leaf in the wind, continuing on his way. The very notion of a Guardian attacking him didn't even register in his mind, for no primitive would dare raise their hand against one such as he.

Besides, none of the Vongola Guardians were his target, and so none of them were worth his time. And above all, that was the commodity most in demand, wasn't it? Time.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Kurai Rin Character Portrait: Trevor Sawada Character Portrait: Tyde Rumerio Character Portrait: Shaji Ai Character Portrait: Akio Yamada Character Portrait: Cornelius V. Roquet
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#, as written by Damioa
It was truly funny how boredom worked. At the start, it seems like it'll never pass. Hours pass by along with the boredom and it seems like each one passes slower than its predecessor. Luckily with boredom comes new ideas. Ideas of how to pass the time. These ideas could be drinking punch, or eating sweats. Even talking to people is a good way to pass through the grueling wait, that promised nothing but the utmost fun. Still, Tyde bared his teeth and went with it. It was his job after all. If he controlled himself then he would have his fun at the end of the day. How sweet it would taste too after being denied for so long. He had to think. Was he a masochist for this type of thing? Did he like being denied his birthright? His right to take life with his own prowess? It was a fun idea for a about two minutes, but seeing as he didn't really care about the ticks he had in his personality to either fix them or follow through with them. Of course this wasn't entirely true. More like a half truth. He would admit that his love for life and the last wonders of it was a tick, by human standards and maybe even alien ones. However, he didn't consider a tick. Instead it was something he was meant to do. A road he was meant to take. . . Plus it was fun.

He sighed, falling back into a state of non existence, or daydreaming for some. He noted the Vongola pair walk away from Kurai, which was a relief to him. The more they stood around them, the more he wanted to kill them.

To make matters worse, he was passing through the mid stage of boredom. Thanks to the annoying man announcing the start of the presentation. This stage was more anticipation than anything. He could literally feel his time coming upon him, much like a kid who studies all day just to smell his mothers cooking. Well, in his case it was either a doctors cooking or a servants, but it was all the same feeling at the end of the day. Usually, in an event like that, one would run to the dinner table, ready to eat. However, this was one of those times where you had to let a meal marinate first. It marinates and all you can do is sit back and look at it, licking your lips raw until the right time calls to dig in. This situation was only different because instead of food, they were targets. All lined up on stage. Had this been a mission to kill them, Tyde wouldn't hesitate but to crush them with rocks found in one of his boxes. Or even himself. Though, when he thought about it, rocks would be better. It would be less likely for them to die, especially if he targeted their limbs. Then, with the ones that survived he could have his way. It was a pity really. His fun would be cut in half, but he'd still be able to bring pain. Tyde decided he would imagine the rest after he was done. He looked at the Vongola, just like the rest of the crowd. Though, instead of paying attention to what was being said, he gazed at them long enough to fix them into his day dream.

The eleventh. Yes, she spoke about things that didn't matter to Tyde, but with every expression her face made, Tyde could see it better and better. The sight of the dark place, he called his thinking space. He had a lot of thought space in his dream world, but the thinking space was special. Each idea made Tyde an Einstein of death. Whether it be prolonging or hastening, inflicting or numbing, he was able to do it. Sometimes he wondered if the things he has thought of and done were things people would find in the future of him simplistic and boring. It made him feel happy, knowing one day, someone could surpass him.

"Oh my," he said in the dark room. "I almost forgot about my pastime. Eleventh Vongola, you aren't my target, but still, I can play with you. Hehe. Here I can play with all of you."

The dark room shown small lights in seven different places, each showing a tied up Vongola. "For the eleventh, I took out your voice box. I don't really want to here you talk about... What is it? Revolutionized Tools? Yeah, just like the man who invented the wheel said. And now look, we don't even need wheels. Circular objects are still used though so hey. Wasn't much of a waste now was it? Whatever. You bore me, so onto the next."

He walked around to the second table which had the sun guardian. "Little Trevor. So young and innocent. Though if I had my way..." He thought for a second. "Yes. Brilliant. I'll stitch your back onto the Storm kids back, then I'll hang you from the ceiling with.... Let's say fish hooks? Maybe that's too cliche. Oh. I can nail you to it with knives. Then slowly the stitches will fail do the weight of Stormy here and he'll probably fall to his death. You, on the other hand, will probably be bled out by then. Yes."

In the current plane, he smiled as he watched the eleventh talked. Tyde's eyes looked like they were focused on her and the rest of the speakers, but in all actuality he was seeing something other than some boring talkers. He was seeing the chaos of a generation other than his own. One before his own. It did become rather boring, seeing as no matter how many times he killed them in his mind, they were all up on stage, happy go lucky and... unamused? He wondered if they even wanted to be there. Well, if they didn't, he'd help them. He'd take away their boredom. Of course it would be replaced with pain, but if he was just given the signal, he would do it. There was nothing more Tyde would rather do.

He found himself going through the third phase of boredom, which was pretty close to surrendering to it. He sighed and walked back to the punch bowl, pouring himself some of the sweet red liquid and leaned on the wall. "Life is what it is I suppose," he muttered looking at his reflection in his cup. "Sure I'm bored now, but as long as life keeps going, I'll be able to cease it sooner or later. Gotta just wait it out."

He slightly tightened his grip on the cup in his hand and brought it closer to his mouth. At that time, if you asked him what he heard first, Tyde would have to say it didn't matter. For both the snapping sound and the volume change of the crowd were equally charitable to him.

The final stage of boredom had finally begun. It was funny. He couldn't even remember being bored in the first place. This feeling, the current one he could have easily exploded from, was indescribable. He loved it. He wanted it to get even more intense. If he lost himself in it, that would probably be the most glorious gift god could give him.

He looked over to Conelius. Tyde knew that he should probably fight away from the boy seeing as casualties were supposed to be kept at a minimum. Though after hearing that he was going to put on a show, he couldn't help but feel like he was missing out on something. Before walking away from Kurai, he patted her shoulder, saying, "Knock em dead kid."

As he walked around looking for a guardian, any guardian, to play with, he caught a glimpse of the older Alastor standing amongst the crowd looking as god like and awesome as ever. Thinking that it would be cool to watch him fight someone, Tyde followed after him, doing his best to catch up with the clatter and panic, the boy saw one of the Vongola guardians challenge the man to no avail. In seconds, Tyde was bursting out in laughter. He didn't even care about older Al anymore. The kid in front of him was a hoot. "Ahahahaaa. Wow. Wait. Hehehe. Ahahahahaha." He giggled and leaned his arm on the boy, laughing even harder. "Sorry, heehe....Sorry but, hahahaha." The laughter was uncontrollable. Tyde had to focus to stop and even after he continued to giggle here and there.

"Okay....Okay. Yeah, I'm good now. Hehe. So kid," he chuckled grinning at the pink haired boy. "You should give me your ring. You're most likely going to have a bad time if you don't." The Rizzo's Asteroid extended his hand as if he was about to accept the ring whenever the Vongola was ready and suddenly stopped halfway. "Actually... This isn't about you is it? Nah. It's about something greater. Life. Life has lessons for everyone to learn. So I'll teach you something. Something about how life, is also unfair."

The young man didn't lie. Unknown to the boy in front of him, he already knew things about him that could be used against him. He was also older and had killed probably more people than the boy has in his living family. One could probably add the other Vongola's families in that mix too. Not only that, but other things also made this unfair. It was unfair in Tyde's eyes. Though the fact that he wouldn't be able to kill him limited him and made it more fair. Still, Tyde was sure of the outcome. He just wasn't sure if he'd be happy with it. "You better be entertaining. I want to see if the blind should even be allowed to exist. Show me what makes life special for you and I'll teach you a lesson."

As he talked, Tyde backed up from the boy and pulled a knife that was sheathed in the back of his belt. "Draw your sword Akio," he said, wondering what the boy would think of his name being known by a stranger. "It's time to play samurai's and ninjas."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo Character Portrait: Tyde Rumerio Character Portrait: Akio Yamada
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Akio Yamada



In one swift move, it seems the man had somehow gotten behind Akio, this through him off guard a bit. He was sure that the man didn't move behind him, he would have heard that. Its almost like the man just appeared behind Akio out of thin air. Akio had never seen anything like it before, but before Akio could question the man on this he was interrupted by a loud and a condescending laugh telling him to hand over his ring. This pushed the other man and his actions out of Akio's mind. If there was one thing Akio couldn't stand it was people looking down on him. He had to deal with that from his parents and siblings, He wasn't going to take it from some random sümük. Akio, wanting to keep his cool demeanor in front of an enemy, composes himself " Ok dude, but when you're laying on the ground in pain in a few minutes I want you to remember." Akio would pause as he quickly opens his eyes."You asked for this." As Akio readied himself he noticed a different feeling than when he spars with his mother. His opponent had an odd wind about him. It was almost like Akio could feel his malice, his bloodless, his killing intent. For some odd reason this gave him a rush of excitement. He thought to himself "This is awesome! This uplifting feeling I can't get from training with Mom. This tingling, to fight without hesitation or thought of how to defeat my opponent! Just knocking him down with all my might!" He grinned itching to start this fight. In the back of his mind, he knew he should go look for the others but he couldn't help himself. He only hoped that 11th wouldn't be too mad at him for not following her order. His grip on his hilt tighten as the tension begin to build. Akio slowly started to circle around around to his opponent meticulously listening to every sound his opponent made. Nothing about his opponent really stood out to him other then the fact he was bold enough to pull a knife on a swordsman. Ether he was extremely cocky or extremely good. Akio couldn't wait to find out which.