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Sora Tsukino

"The phenomena of your power and my choice are forever disconnected. This is the Null Hypothesis."

0 · 1,720 views · located in Cross Academy

a character in “Vampire Knight: The Devil's Dance”, originally authored by Ion, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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“I’m the Null Hypothesis. The Tabula Rasa. Emptiness. Nothing. And the potential in that is infinite, or so they tell me.”






Basics


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“So what, you think you’re special? You think the way you were born makes you that way? Show me the work of your hands, what you’ve done with all that talent and blood of yours. Then we’ll talk.”




Nickname: Sora is occasionally referred to (unkindly), as “Kara,” a play on the kanji of his first name, which read one way can mean Sora, or sky, but read as “kara” means “empty.” He is also known as Null, but not by the same people that know him by his actual name.

Age: His school records indicate that he’s rather young by vampiric standards, placing him at 124 years of age. Like all mature vampires, he resembles a young adult, around 18 or so years of age.

Gender: Male

Race: Vampire

Role: Pure-Blood; though the headmaster has requested that he be a prefect on several occasions, he refuses.




Appearance


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“Who cares how I look? What can a face tell you about anything? The world would be better off if we couldn’t see how other people look at all.”




Hair Color: Black, shot through with bluish strands if the light is right.

Eye Color: Also black, to the point where it’s impossible to distinguish iris from pupil. There are people who find this disconcerting.

Skin Tone: Pale.

Height: 6’2”

Weight: 175lbs

Physical Description: Those with more poetic demeanors have described him as darkness incarnate. It’s overly dramatic, of course, and he laughed in the face of the only person foolish enough to ever report this fact to him, but there’s a little something to it. Certainly, it accurately reflects the coloration of his eyes and hair: both such a deep, pitch black that you’d expect light to be absorbed into them rather than reflected.

That’s maybe just from afar though. Up closer, it clear that his hair catches and reflects light wavelengths in the blue-purple spectrum, giving it a dark, but not colorless, sheen. From the way it hangs in feathery bits around his face, there’s a fair guess that it’s soft, though honestly, if you attempted to touch it, you might lose the hand. His eyes are uncanny, and most of the time seem to be rather dull and uninterested. The same bad poets have commented upon this by saying that to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds is to stare frighteningly into the void. Sora calls bullshit on that one. This said, they do change significantly when something holds his interest, gaining an intelligent glimmer that usually seems absent, but this happens only rarely.

Like any pureblood, his facial features are fine and well-arranged, though his seem to have a bit more roughness and sharpness about them than most. It’s something in the downward angle of his brows, the proudness of his nose, maybe, or the fact that his mouth seems to bear a permanent scowl. When he does smile, it’s wolfish and not at all reassuring or soft, often with just the faintest flash of fang. It’s hard to forget that Sora’s a predator—pretty much everything about his body language and movement exude it. He is not without grace aplenty, but he is far from delicate in any of his features.

With Sora, nothing is wasted. His musculature fills out his frame, and he has almost nothing in the way of excess fat. Indeed, he seems very solidly-built, and in this sense unmistakably masculine in appearance. His wardrobe favors black, and occasionally other dark colors as well. Unlike many, his hands are rough, well-callused, more suited to the hilt of a sword than fine china.




Personality


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“I guess you were expecting someone else, huh? Too bad for you.”




Romantic Interest: TBA

Skills and Abilities: As a pureblood from a very old family, he has much of what you’d expect, and shares in all the common abilities of his kin. His family shows a particular proclivity for the manipulation of lightning or electricity, which has long made them valuable as soldiers and assassins, even among vampires. It also means that the other houses have long fallen over themselves to remain in favor with the Tsukinos—useless sycophants, all of them.

On a personal level, Sora is also well-trained in close-quarters combat, enough to match or exceed anyone he’s met, including some very, very old vampires indeed. His own personal vampiric talent helps very much with this: though he does not make a public spectacle of it, he isn’t referred to as “the null hypothesis of the blood” for nothing. Curiously, he is capable of completely nullifying any other vampire’s abilities, should they attempt to use such talents on him. It is an ability that was quite feared by the other pureblood houses when it was discovered that he possessed it, though nobody knew exactly which of the Tsukino heirs had it.

Other: It should be noted that his prodigious talents in some areas have left him rather deficient in others. Sora lacks most of the social graces of other purebloods, and is often considered something of a heathen or a barbarian among them. He also doesn’t deal well with emotions of any kind, from himself or others. It makes life… difficult.

Likes:
+ Sarcasm, both employing and being around people who regularly employ
+ Exercise and any kind of physical exertion
+ Honest people who speak straightforwardly
+ Spicy food
+ Cats

Dislikes:
- Most pureblood vampires, including the remaining members of his own family
- Excessive pomp or ceremony
- Talking for the sake of talking
- Disingenuousness
- Summertime

Personality: Whatever you were expecting when someone told you that Sora Tsukino was a pureblood vampire is untrue. Well, most things anyway. He’s no refined, well-spoken gentleman, and he’ll at least do you the courtesy of making sure you know that up front. Though he knows the proper manners and standards of decorum, he doesn’t use them unless he absolutely has to, and you’ll have a hard time forcing the headstrong young man to do anything he doesn’t want to. Where others of his kind speak in honeyed or flirtatious or playful words, he refuses to go in for any of it. His statements are blunt, direct, and to the point enough that they’re sometimes… awkward.

He’s a bit crass in his language, and peppers in oaths when he feels like the situation warrants it. Again, he knows how to speak with all the sophistication and sophistry of his kind, but he refuses to do so. They, like he, are in the end predatory animals who would as soon rip out a human’s throat as talk to them, and he’s not going to hide that. Actually, he doesn’t mind humans at all, he just understands that there’s no point in pretending to be the same as one. He’s a killer, and an incredibly-dangerous one at that, and he refuses to sugar-coat that for anyone. It’s probably kinder in the end—this way, those with any sense of self-preservation will know to stay away. And those without any, well… he probably likes them more anyway.

His opinions on his own kind are… less than favorable. He sees the vast majority of vampires, pureblood and otherwise, as needlessly-sycophantic idiots too concerned with the likes of blood and purity and privilege to even begin to understand that the humans are slowly winning the world while they sit around and pontificate about their own superiority. It sickens him. If that’s the way they really are, the humans deserve the world.

Like many previous members of his family, Sora could be compared to lightning in his demeanor, then: he strikes too fast to see and without mercy, and even when not actively aggressive, there is something sharp and deadly simmering just beneath the surface of his skin. It tends to intimidate, and gives the impression of someone with an absolute disregard for life. Not quite true, but the reputation suits him just fine. If you happen to be among the people he likes, he’s wickedly funny, and skilled in the deployment of sarcasm and dark humor. Most people never get close enough to see it.




Background


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“There are some things you’re better off not knowing.”




History: The Tsukinos have long been considered one of the most dangerous clans of purebloods in the world, due to their uniquely combative abilities and the special, in-house combat training that saw their each generation flourish in the darkest corners of vampire society, carrying out assassinations sanctioned by the family, and keeping close watch on its enemies. This often had other clans going to great lengths to be their allies, so that the blades would never be turned against them.

It seems that people can only be pushed so far before they push back.

Sora was the fifth child of his parents, both Tsukinos of the main family line, though as the second son, it was not expected that he would inherit. Still, the lesser children of the clan were the ones most often trained in the stealth and assassination arts, and he was no exception. When he came into his powers, it was discovered that he possessed a never-before-seen talent for nullification. Seeing an opportunity to push their status yet further, the Tsukinos subtly let slip that one of their new heirs had this talent, as a method of intimidation. Unfortunately, the move backfired, causing several other houses to band against them in fear, and a slaughter was planned.

It took a great deal of vampires just to slay the main family, and even then, they didn’t succeed completely. Though his brother, sisters, and parents were brutally slain, Sora survived the massacre intact, as did a few members of the branch families. An act of aggression of this scale had not been seen in vampire society for ages, and it shook up many established alliances. Sora’s family banded behind him, appointing him the new head of household at the staggeringly-young age of 110, but in truth he has very little to do with it. He lets his grandparents run the household, and does his own part to recover what was lost: he searches for those responsible, and eliminates them.

He has recently enrolled at Cross Academy due to a troublesome directive from his grandparents, and generally considers it a waste of time. They keep him there, however, with the suggestion that perhaps he can find more information on his family’s killers there. To the wider world, the Tsukinos are considered a disgraced house, and everyone assumes the child they were afraid of has been killed, and that Sora himself is just a member of a branch family or something.

Nobody has thought to connect him with the appearance of a masked vigilante called Null.





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“I don’t fight my demise. I embrace it, every single time. Most days, it’s my job to fight. Often, it’s my job to kill. Someday, it’s going to be my job to die.”


So begins...

Sora Tsukino's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion
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“Have you ever needed anything so badly that it no longer concerns you what you want, what you like, who you are?”



The solitary figure was perched on the roof, looking out over the grounds with no particular expression on his face. Indeed, he could be said to look a little… dead. Kind of funny, considering how popular myth tended to portray his kind. The undead, living corpses, something of this nature. Ridiculous. He was just as alive as any human being, though perhaps minus something vital, like maybe a soul. Who knew? It wasn’t like a soul would do him any good; he’d just waste it, corrupt it. But sometimes, you just had to do certain things, consequences be damned. His burdens weren’t a matter of honor or anything so high and mighty as that. He didn’t pretend to have those things in mind when he slew his foes.

No, all Sora sought was vengeance, no matter how much it grew the gnawing emptiness where a human’s soul might have been.

He supposed he was probably meant to hate sunrise. It signified the end of his people’s dominion and the dawning of the human’s world. If he’d been a ‘lesser’ vampire, he would even have suffered at the advent of the sun, but no, he was simply intended to despise it on principle, for everything it stood for. He never had. Instead, he watched it with the same disinterests as everyone else, through even the clanging of the bell and the throngs of students passing below. They all looked so busy, as though what they were doing were so vitally important that they couldn’t even take the precious time it would require to be aware of their surroundings. Well, nobody ever looked up anyway, not even the careful ones. Maybe that was why he’d been taught to strike from above.

Huffing a breath from his nose, Sora tried to quell the growing sense of disquiet rising beneath his skin. In a way, it was his curse: he could never truly be at ease. His power moved too readily in him, flows and eddies of pure-bright electricity, and it was literally as well as figuratively difficult to rest, to relax. There was always the risk of losing his hold on that deadly stuff, doing harm he had not intended. The most dangerous blades are those that may be either dull or sharp. If one is always aggressive, people will grow wary, as of the fire. If one is always passive, one will forget how to do harm when necessity demands it. Be always unpredictable, be always vigilant.

“Tch.” Advice from a dead man who clearly hadn’t followed it well enough. Never mind, he would never be so stupid.

Nonetheless, he found that even such avowed reassurances would not tame his spirit today, though much seldom did. It was almost funny—people thought him so unrestricted, so free, but that was only with his words. When it came down to it, he was just as chained as anyone else, he just refused to bow to it. This decision carried its own consequences, however, and his persistent dissatisfaction with everything was one of them.

It was as he was thinking this that his keen ears picked up on a sound. Huh. New song, today. Moving to the edge of the roof, Sora dropped so he was holding onto the ledge effortlessly with just his fingertips, and began a catlike climb towards the source of the sound. It was the Violinist, again.

The music room’s window, from which the music was filtering, was not far from his present location, and he sidled along windowsills and stonework protrusions with the ease of long practice—he’d climbed much smoother things before. It was not long ago that he’d discovered that someone at the Academy had a real flair for music of this kind, and he’d taken to listening to them when he heard them. Most of the time, it wasn’t anything as involved as this, just a temporary pause outside the music room door or something like that. But getting into the school would be more effort at this point than he wanted to put in, and he’d probably miss the majority of the new tune, besides.

He didn’t really understand what compelled him to listen, but he saw no harm in it. If someone in this forsaken place had a talent like that, he figured somebody ought to appreciate it, as he’d heard of no public recitals every being given. Besides, the music was… nice. It made him feel quieter inside, though the songs the Violinist picked weren’t always quite the ones he might have, he appreciated that this must be their way of doing what he could not—channeling all their pent up self into something that wasn’t violent.

He was a little envious, even if he couldn’t really afford to be.

The window was indeed open, but he hesitated for a moment. He could easily slip in through it if he wanted, but that might ruin it. What if the Violinist was on his List? What if it was someone he didn’t like? This completely one-sided arrangement was on some level something he liked, even just a little, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to crack that veneer of anonymity that lay between them. He didn’t know who the Violinist was, and the Violinist presumably didn’t know that they had an audience.

Still, he was too direct to keep skulking around like some kind of spy or creeper. That wasn’t his style. Seemed fairer to the Violinist this way, too. Plus, part of him was unmistakably curious; he’d been wondering about this for the better part of the school year he’d spent here. Might as well begin the day by solving a mystery, right? Swinging soundlessly onto the windowsill, Sora landed in a crouch, perched on the frame like some kind of large bird, the twin dovetails of his black duster coat hanging out the window even still.

What he saw wasn’t exactly what he’d expected, though he was inwardly relieved that the person here was in fact not on his list, nor someone he hated. Fujiwara, huh? He wouldn’t have picked the prefect to have a talent like this, but then again, he was pretty bad at reading people and they usually managed to surprise him, though admittedly, this was less unpleasant than most such surprises.

He caught sight of the owl, but if its presence moved his thoughts in one direction or another, he didn’t show it, instead waiting with uncharacteristic politeness for the performance to end before he spoke. “Hn. You’re pretty talented, Fujiwara.” It was certainly not a kind of talent he’d ever had the time to cultivate.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Azazel



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"If what makes you happy is frowned upon, then you are doing something right."




Snow opened his eyes, watching the fluid movement of his owner's wrist flick with each pull of the bow. He knew this was what made her happy, what made her feel...human amongst all other things. Even though he loved his creator, he couldn't help but worry about her and the thirst he knew was becoming more difficult to control. She wouldn't be able to keep this up forever, however; in the mean time he would look after her like the familiar he was. A sound captured his attention as he turned to the source. His black eyes stared into a pair similar to his own as he recognized the vampire. It was Sora Tsukino, one of the Tsukino family that attended the school. He paid no heed to the pure-blood as his eyes remained fixated on the boy, watching with curiosity as he crouched on the window sill.

"“Huh. You’re pretty talented, Fujiwara." the voice startled Asuka as she struck the violin a bit harder than usual. It caused a wire to snap, inches from missing her face as she turned to the voice. Her eyes narrowed slightly before his words registered into her mind. He had just complimented her on her talent. Sora Tsukino, complimenting her; it almost caused her to laugh. She placed the violin back in the rack along with the bow. She would have to replace the string that snapped; it was her favorite violin. He is complimenting you Asuka, thank him,
she heard Snow and gave him a look before turning her full attention to Sora.

"Shouldn't you be returning to your dorm?" she inquired instead. Snow shook his feathers, appearing like a ball of cotton and less intimidating as he inwardly scolded Asuka. She ignored her familiar as she kept her gaze on the pure-blood. The two were notorious for their almost arguments, however; it served as a form of entertainment for Asuka. Although she would never admit it to herself, she actually enjoyed their banters from time to time. Masochist, Snow stated before flying out of the window Sora was currently still in. Asuka only smiled at the bird's choice of words.

"It's none of my business if you want to sleep or not, but you shouldn't be creeping around like a creeper," she continued to badger the male. She honestly didn't know what exactly it was about the vampire that brought this side of her out, however; she wasn't about to curl up and become...soft just because she couldn't hold her tongue. She folded her arms against her chest, the Prefect band now present as she glanced outside to the distance. A small spectacle, blind to the human eye, caught her attention. Someone was out of the building. This caused her to frown as she turned her back to the pure-blood.

"Nevermind," she stated as she placed a hand on the door's frame, glancing back at the vampire before continuing, "Thank you," and with that she left. The clicks of her heels echoed through the hall as she began her rounds once more. The soft mewling of a cat captured Asuka's ears as she turned to spot the white cat she nicknamed, Snowball. She kneeled down and scooped the cat into her arms, watching as Yuki curled into her embrace. The soft purring sound elicited from the cat's lips caused a smile to form onto Asuka's own.

"Are you here to help me Snowball?" she asked as the cat glanced up at her with sapphire blue eyes. It was a lazy gaze, one that could have been interrperted as 'No', however; Asuka merely placed the cat upon her shoulders as Yuki curled his tail around her neck. "This hallway is cleared," she stated to no one in particular before approaching a rather brightly lit window. She glanced outside and spotted a rather peculiar sight. Zenith had seemed to be laying underneath a maple tree and had a serene look upon his face. Asuka shook her head as she left the window. Such an odd vampire she thought as Yuki continued to purr rather loudly.

Satisfied that all the students were now currently still in their class, Asuka decided to head towards the roof of the school building. She was rather tired from the previous night. A night class student had wandered from class and found an injured Day Class student. Needless to say that Night Class student wouldn't be venturing anywhere anytime soon. As for the day class student, he had given Asuka a hard time. He hadn't wanted to go to the infirmary and Asuka nearly had to drag the boy. His reasoning was that because he was a man and men didn't treat their battle wounds.

He had missed a step on the stairs.

Once on the top, a loud shriek pierced the air as Snow swooped down, aiming for Yuki who hissed at the being before jumping off of Asuka's shoulder, running back into the building before disappearing. Asuka gave Snow a stern gaze, but he merely ruffled his feathers in response. I don't like that cat,, he simply stated as he made his perch on top of the rail of the building. Asuka merely rubbed the Owl before disappearing behind the door, grabbing something and pulled it out. Does Mr. Itou know you have that violin up here, he stated in a rather monotonous voice, causing Asuka to smirk.

"You enjoy listening just as much as I enjoy playing," she retorted. In a way, Asuka was glad that Sora interrupted her little session. If she had been too engulfed in playing, she would have had some explaining to do if someone noticed the change of color in her eyes. She couldn't help it that the music took over her that way. "Plus, this is something I've been working on and I actually have room up here to practice the dance along with it," she continued. It was partially true as there was a dance she had been wanting to integrate into the music, however; she wasn't exactly the most graceful dancer there was.

Is it that song again? Oh, I must watch this, Asuka could almost hear the tease in his voice as she grinned. She bowed at her only audience and pulled the violin up to her chin. "Would you be so kind as to push play on that radio?" she asked as the owl glanced down at the small radio. It contained the music she was currently playing the violin to and served as a source of inspiration. Snow reluctantly obliged as he pushed the button with his beak, listening as the music came alive. Asuka smiled and pulled the bow across the violin as the music continued to play.

Her body began to move with the music, feeling as it coursed through her veins. Snow could see the happiness that radiated from her being as she continued to move, her body becoming almost hypnotic as it demonstrated the flexibility she picked up due to her upbringing. For a moment, she opened her eyes, displaying the briliant vermilion before closing them again. Snow shook his head slightly as he continued to watch as the performance ended, unaware of a pair of crimson eyes peeking in through the doorway.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion
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“I am my instinct— untamable but fettered.”



That owl was intelligent. More intelligent than an animal had any right to be. It was obvious in the way it looked at him. Sora graced it with the barest tilt of his mouth, cocking his head to one side. I know what you are. But there was no danger in this, because he also didn’t much care. Still, he wasn’t sure how she hadn’t been found out by now, if she let the thing follow her around like that. Who’d ever heard of a human with an owl for a pet, let alone one who smelled so strange. He shrugged to himself; none of his damn business, anyway.

The sound of a snapping string caused a twinge—he hadn’t meant to cause her to break anything, which was why he’d waited until the song was over. Her reply to his presence could have instigated an argument, if he’d wanted it to. I have as much right to be here as you do, princess, don’t try to tell me what to do. Or something trite like that. Instead, he let the comment pass in indifferent silence; it was hardly the clever reply she was capable of, and he supposed he must have caught her off-guard with the suddenness of his appearance.

The comment afterwards, though, did demand an answer. “Feeling a bit off today, are we, Fujiwara? Your comebacks are usually much better than this. What ‘creeper’ lets himself be seen?” He asked nonchalantly, glancing around the room. There was nothing particularly interesting about it, and so he settled for making eye contact again. Apparently, that was the socially-acceptable thing to do. He did it only because the range of expression that faces were capable of producing was telling, and much more interesting than staring at blank walls.

Her reply to that was just downright dismissive, and she seemed inclined to be leaving already. The hell is wrong with you today, Fujiwara? He hadn’t even gotten a proper scolding out of the deal. Instead, he’d been thanked. She must be sick or something, and he just blinked at her for a second, huffing a breath from his lungs as she disappeared beyond the doorway, disturbing the locks of hair that hung over his forehead. Well, that had been about thirty times more boring than usual. Shaking his head, Sora hopped from the windowsill and ran a hand through his hair, contemplating the wisdom of actually sleeping.

Ultimately deciding against it, he struck out down the hallway and back out onto the grounds. It wasn’t like he ever slept much, anyhow. He’d never really needed to—a few hours here and there was plenty to keep him going. He put it down to his childhood, and training that involved pushing hi and his siblings to the limits of their bodies’ capacities: forced insomnia, blood starvation… they’d been run till they were practically delusional and then forced to fight their ancestors. Nobody had ever accused vampire clans of being sane, and the Tsukinos had always taken things to extremes even then.

Whatever the case, his wanderings soon took him around the building, where he happened upon something most irregular: a group of vampires (and some humans, from the smell of it) were crowded around a tree. Frowning openly, Sora drew his brows together and went to investigate. There were a very limited number of things that would attract the attention of both species—you’ve got to be shitting me.

It wasn’t hard to tell upon approaching that the lollygaggers were actually observing someone sleeping. How messed up was that? Not to mention the fact that the sleeper was actually his practically-nonexistent roommate, though that really didn’t figure into what he did next.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Sora asked the assembled group, mostly women. This caused several heads to turn in his direction, most of them shooting him glares. A few looked properly chastised and colored in embarrassment, hurrying along on their way to wherever they’d been going before getting caught up in this stupidity. For all that, though, there were about four who stayed, and one found her voice relatively easily.

“Oh look, it’s the dirt-eating thin-blood. Why don’t you run along and go drain a human, Tsukino?” She was lucky there weren’t any more humans around, running her mouth like that.

He’d have been angry if he didn’t find it all so damn laughable. “Come up with that all by yourself, did you Karena? Or did daddy have to help you? Seriously, fuck off you idiots—how’d you like it if somebody stared at you while you were trying to sleep?” To think Fujiwara had called him a creeper. He had nothing on these ‘fans’ of Zenith’s.

Karena looked like she was ready to respond, but her tune abruptly changed when he took a step closer. If Zenith was considered beautiful by the majority of the population, Sora was terrifying when he wanted to be, and it was wiser to avoid him when he was irritated. The look they were getting could likely have peeled paint with its blistering nature, and with much posturing and dignified sniffing, they all sashayed away. “Goddamn morons. He’s a person, not a thing,” the young vampire muttered. A sharp exhale, and Sora shook his head. He should probably find somewhere else to sleep, though. Less public, maybe. Casting a speculative glance at the other pureblood, he opted to leave him there. Maybe it would take them a while to reform now that he’d scared them off.

It shouldn’t matter, really, he decided as he stalked off, but it kind of did. It was never for the same reason, but he knew what it was like to have people look at you and forget you had your own mind about things, like you were some kind of object for them to own. He’d always been more a weapon than the trinket those people seemed to think Zenith was, but the idea was basically the same in the end. Jamming his hands into his coat pockets, Sora allowed his awareness of the world around him to expand, his mind to empty of anything but the processing needed to properly identify all the sensations that came to him. It was meditative, in a way, and helped keep him in control of himself.

No mean feat, when just about everything about this place pissed him off so much.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion
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“To survive is to suffer; to live is to find some meaning in the suffering.”



His senses soon alerted him to her presence, and he sighed under his breath. Slipping into the treeline, Sora entered the forest proper, slipping silently between the trees until he was nothing more than a shadow himself, flowing with the natural rhythm of the environment, indiscernible against the backdrop of gently-swaying shade and the ground coated with soft pine needles. It was with swiftness that he flitted from one spot to another, so naturally stealthy and quiet that it required no conscious thought. It had been threaded into his very being, this instinct, and many others like it. The Tsukinos were all gifted, but he had been their prodigy.

He would have called such a title useless, but the skills that backed it were the only reason he was alive and they were not.

With a single leap, he launched himself effortlessly into the boughs of a particular tree, the highest in the forest, to be precise. His quarry was there, though that probably wasn’t the right word for her. Indeed, she lay on her stomach, her slender figure no wider than the tree limb that supported her, chin in her hands, elbows propped in front of her, legs kicking back and forth in the air behind her. She looked bored until she noticed his presence, at which point her face broke out into a lovely smile. “Tsukino-dono, it’s been a while.” She shifted her chin to one hand and held out the other, obviously intending for him to take it and likely brush his lips along her knuckles. She found it funny to tease him so, since he refused every time.

Nobody touched him, and he didn’t touch other people, either.

“Don’t call me that, Sachiko. You know it’s damn annoying.” She laughed, a full and surprisingly rich sound from someone so diminutive, her black eyes sparking to life with a mischievous glint. With a deft, smooth movement, she leveraged herself into a sitting position, cocking her head to the side and playing with one of the obsidian strands brushing her shoulders, twisting it around and around her finger. It never had curled, no matter how hard she tried.

“Yare, yare, Sora-kun,” she pronounced dramatically, with a long-suffering sigh. “You know it’s what all those old busybodies think you should be called.” Her foxlike smile conveyed her own opinion on the matter—she was just saying this to rile him, and he refused to rise to the bait, staring at her flatly from his branch until she sighed again and produced a slip of paper from somewhere in the folds of her gothic-style skirt. “Have it your way, killjoy. Your next… target.”

Not many people would believe it, but in addition to being a trained assassin like all the younger children of his family, Sachiko was an expert gatherer of information, good enough to be known (anonymously) in other parts of the vampire world simply as the Oracle. Her personal abilities were a farsight and something verging on clairvoyance, and while incredibly-difficult to interpret, her visions were never wrong, making her a dangerous spy. She was his primary link to his family, mostly because she was the only one left that he even respected.

He took the paper from her pale fingers, stuffing it in a pocket. He’d look at it later. For now, she was looking at him much more seriously now, her lips pulled into a frown. “You know, Sora, you don’t have to do this anymore. It was their fault, and I’m sure the others would forgive you if you moved on with your life.”

His eyebrows drew together, a clear if subtle indication of his displeasure. “You know better than that, Sachiko. I can’t forgive them for what they did—they all deserve to suffer like we have.” His teeth clenched—he could say that he was doing this for his family if he wanted, but really he was doing it for them, and it just so happened that the same people were responsible.

Sachiko reached for his hand, but then thought better of it and aborted the movement, shaking her head. “They’d never demand of you so much pain.”

“Which is exactly why they’re worth it,” He countered hotly, and when she flinched, he grimaced. “Look. You’re worried. I get it.” He raked a hand through his hair, huffing an exasperated breath. “But I can do this. I’m the only one who can do this. You know that. And it has to be done.” Before she could counter, he held up a hand. “You don’t have to keep helping if you don’t want to. But I’m not going to stop.”

“Oh, shut up, you moron,” His cousin groused. “You know I’ll always help you. Always.” She enunciated the words with an echoing finality, and he allowed himself a small smile, nodding slowly. ”Go on, then; get out of here before someone misses you.”

His tone was mirthless. “Nobody would miss me, Sachiko. Not here, not there.” With a final nod signifying his farewell, Sora leapt to the ground, landing in a crouch and immediately springing back into a run. He needed to think again. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, but he couldn’t shake this feeling of foreboding and disquiet. Something was coming, his instincts told him this. But he had no idea what.

Angling for campus, he struck out in the direction of his dorm. He’d probably have to cut class tonight, and get to work.

He was too far away to hear the voice that followed him, scarcely a whisper. I’d miss you.”

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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"They said a storm was coming, but when I glanced at the sky, it was bright and clear. I didn't realize they meant that I was the storm.




Asuka stared at the door Hayate had walked through. She sighed, picking up the violin from the floor and returned it to it's hiding place. She glanced back, noticing the setting sun and a small smile appeared on her face. It was almost time for her rounds again since the Day Class would be finishing soon and the Night Class would be starting. It seemed like a never ending cycle for Asuka. As the only prefect, it was difficult to keep track of so many students, and at times it caused her to be stressed to the point that even the smallest things would set her off. She would apologize after because she hadn't meant to snap at the people, however; she wished there was at least one more person to help her.

Did you forget about me? I am hurt," Snow interrupted Asuka's thoughts as he stared at his master. He conveyed his thoughts in a hurt-like manner, causing Asuka to chuckle at his child-like behavior. I am glad it pleases you that I am hurt. Such a terrible master you are, he chuckled in amusement, glad to see she was still smiling. In any matter, I think you should check on a little bird lodged in a tree. She seems to be fond of that tree. Not to mention a certain vampire was just asleep under the same tree, Snow finished, flying from his perch on Asuka's shoulder and began to fly around the building, helping her with her duties.

How could you think I would ever forget about you? And you mean Haruka? I shall see what she is up to this time. I swear sometimes the girl is as bad as Sora, she returned, chuckling as she made her way downstairs. She passed by the students as the bell rang, signaling for them to return to their dorms. For once, everything seemed to be calm as the students all greeted her and went about their ways. There was a few students here and there that stopped by their lockers to either put things away, or grabbing their necessary items. Asuka was slightly glad that her job seemed a bit easy today, and she wasn't going to take it forgranted. Times like these were rare and she enjoyed them when they were around.

She approached a pair of doors that lead to the outside world, however; a particular scent captured her attention. It was something she had never smelled before and it was rather, intoxicating. She followed the scent, weaving through the crowd of students as she made her way towards it. The scent stopped just as soon as it appeared and Asuka became confused. She frowned as she began to make her back to the tree Snow said Haruka had been. She stopped, however, when the smell suddenly assaulted her senses. She covered her mouth and nose, trying to keep the smell from overwhelming her and her eyes, briefly, flashed crimson.

She quickly made her way back to her dorm room and began tearing through her compartment she built in her closet. She had made it to hide the tablets she was forced to take once every few months. She grabbed a handful of the tablets and threw them into a rather large cup, downing it's contents in one full swing. It hurt her throat as she felt the liquid rush through her being. It was enough to calm her, but she still felt so thirsty. She needed something else. The scratching at her door caused Asuka to panic a bit. She opened it and peered down, watching the intense amber gaze of Yuki. He stood, glancing over his shoulder as if to say for her to follow him. She did so, following the cat as he began to lead her outside of the building.

Meanwhile, Snow flew over the school, landing on a tree branch to rest. His azure gaze glanced around the school yard when a familiar feeling came to him. He tilted his head slightly before flying off deeper into the woods. He spotted the vampire from earlier, the one that had tilted his head as if to say he knew what Snow truly was: Sora Tsukino. Snow allowed a semblance of a smile to appear as he hooted at the boy, tilting his head almost so that it was upside down to stare at the Tsukino pure-blood. Prove to me you know what I am, he thought to himself as he continued to stare at the vampire.

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“It’s only a secret for as long as you remember to keep it.”



That smell was fucking weird, and he didn’t like it. Sora, having returned to his dormitory to nap for a few hours and then ducked back out into the forest, had first encountered it upon returning. He supposed it might smell tasty, but he’d lost his concept of most such things quite a while ago. Living with bare survival in mind could do that to a person, and he’d never had much of a connoisseur’s intuition anyway. Blood was blood, it was food, and he honestly didn’t even mind the fake stuff as long as it got the job done.

But even to him, there was something strange about it, and strange things tended to translate as suspicious things where he was concerned. Occupational hazard, maybe. Whatever the case, it didn’t feel right, and he trusted his gut feelings on the matter. The trail seemed to abruptly disappear, though, and he wondered if the person to whom it was attached had some power to that effect. Teleportation, maybe? Not unheard-of, but rather rare.

It probably didn’t matter. They didn’t smell like anyone he’d ever encountered, which meant they weren’t on the List, so he properly shouldn’t give any damns whatsoever. Rolling his eyes to himself, he wondered if Sachiko was getting to his head after all, with this ‘helping people’ nonsense of hers, but dismissed the thought. He was just as he’d always been, and that was how he needed to stay.

His attention was caught by the presence of an animal, or more specifically, Fujiwara’s owl. There was no way the thing was a toy—he knew a real animal when he saw one, and they just didn’t make mechanics that good. He also knew it wasn’t just an owl, for the same reason. The inquisitive way it was looking at him went a long way to confirming this. Not prototypical owl behavior by any means. He wondered what it was doing here.

“Shouldn’t you be with Fujiwara?” He asked in a deadpan, standing beneath the tree that the creature had perched in and looking right up at it as though he held conversations with birds every day. His posture was deceptively casual: hands stuffed into the pockets of his duster, head tipped slightly backwards, but he was as alert to his surroundings as ever. “There’s something new on campus, you know, and it smells funny. Sure as hell ain’t here for me, if you catch my drift.” It could be anything, there for anyone, but a human-looking girl with a familiar was the weirdest thing he’d seen around here, so it would probably be best for them to be careful.

Not that he really cared or anything, of course.

“Plus she was acting odd this morning. Adds up funny, doesn’t it? If I were you, I’d look into that stuff.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug and started back in the direction of the school building. He had plans to make for the evening, after all.

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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"Secrets are not meant to be kept. Eventually, someone will find out, and when they do, would you be able to handle it?"




"So it seems," Snow spoke as he chuckled deeply at Sora's response. He flapped his wings, almost as if to beat off whatever seemed to be weighing them down before moving over towards the end of the branch. He then straigtened himself out before flying over, closer to the vampire. "And she wasn't acting weird. She has a lot on her mind at the moment, especially with this festival your human Headmaster is planning. By tomorrow morning, I assure you she'll have returned to your bickering nonsense you and her seem to be so fond of," he continued. He gave one last glance at the pure-blood before flying off to meet his master. He was slightly worried as she hadn't called him back, and judging by the way the sun had disappeared, she would have called him by now. Before he was too far away, he threw a comment over his shoulder, or what could be perceived as a shoulder since he was an owl.

"Maybe you can bring out that side of her," and with that, he was out of Sora's sight. Honestly, Snow liked the pure-blood. It wasn't everyday that the owl could say he actually favored someone, however; something about Sora gave the owl a slight spark of hope. A hope that his master might accept that side of her and become who he knew she was supposed to be. Although she often scolded him about such a matter, it never detered his will to convince Asuka to become a full-fledged vampire. He chuckled as a sharp pain shot through his head, forcing him to crash into a nearby tree. He tried to get up, but the pain had become unbearable. Asuka, was the only thought on his mind before his world went black and the owl fell.




Asuka walked in a trance as she followed Yuki out of the school grounds. As soon as she exited the building, the night breeze assaulted her face, drifting another scent with it. She knew that scent, the sweet, bitter smell of blood. Her head snapped in the direction of the smell and soon, Asuka found herself running towards it with a speed she hadn't quite harnessed yet. She had found the source of the smell and couldn't help the shade of crimson her eyes had turned. She watched Haruka react to the slice of her finger, and before the girl could do anything, Asuka snatched Haruka's hand and held it up to her eyes. She could see the confusion in the girl's eyes and watched as Asuka brought her mouth closer to her finger.

"Such a sweet smell," she spoke before drinking the liquid that seemed to pour from the minor flesh wound. She inhaled it before releasing her hand and quickly grabbing the girl, spinning around so that Haruka's back was to her. Although being an inch shorter, it gave her a perfect height to lean into Haruka's neck and inhale her scent. Yuki sat off to the side, watching the events unfolding as he communicated silently with his master, sending him the information he required on the Dhampir. "I promise you this won't hurt...much," she spoke in a voice not her own. Two white fangs appeared as she latched onto Haruka's neck, drinking the warm liquid as it flowed into her mouth.

Whether Haruka had resisted or not, Asuka's eyes returned to their jade color as she released herself from Haruka's neck. Her eyes were wide with terror as she stepped back. What had she done? She had just jeopardized her entire secrecy by feeding off of the human girl. She couldn't undo what she had just done, and it would more likely scar the girl for a lifetime. Asuka was supposed to appear human to the girl. She wasn't supposed to know about the vampire world, at all. This thought alone scared Asuka as she muttered an apology and ran. She had never ran so fast in her life as she could feel the muscle in her legs screaming at her to stop. She had to get away, run as far and as fast as possible.

She finally stopped in a clearing, curling up in a small ball as she shook. What happened to her? Where had her control gone? This wasn't like her at all. She always made sure to keep her thirst in check and her secret a...secret. She would never have put herself in that position and Snow...

Where was Snow?

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“It’s not like I want to keep your secrets, you know. But… I ain’t gonna go running my mouth, if that’s what you’re worried about. Who’d I tell, anyway?”



Huh. The owl had a sense of humor. Who’d have thought? Fujiwara hardly did, though he had a feeling that was just an affectation on her part. The note about the festival surprised him a bit—it wasn’t like he kept up with school gossip or anything so frivolous as that. He’d have to keep track of this, though; it would make moving about tomorrow a bit harder to do unnoticed.

He had no idea what the creature was talking about when it spoke of that side of Fujiwara, though. The only side of her he had any dealings with was the sarcastic spitfire one, not that he minded that. It was fun, or at least less boring than everyone else he knew. Well, perhaps it wasn’t the only one he knew, now. He had just discovered that she was the violinist, after all. Did that change things? Should it? Probably no to both. It was a footnote, a curious little fact, and he didn’t have time for those right now. Maybe one day, he’d be able to live for something other than his vengeance, but that day was not today, nor could he foresee it. Not even Sachiko could, or at least not that she’d told him. Too many factors, she’d said, to properly know where his future led just yet.

That was fine—he’d never liked spoilers or talk of fate.

He was on his way back across campus when something caught his attention: still beyond the treeline, a small foxlike creature was nudging something white that lay on the ground. Hold on, wasn’t that…? Stepping silently closer, he identified the owl, and his brows descended his forehead, resting heavily over his black eyes. It had been fine no more than a few minutes ago; what gave? Adjusting his gait so that he could be heard, he approached the two, crouching near the owl. The fox-not-fox (they didn’t look quite like that, normally) had a faint trace of a smell on it that he recognized.

Scowling, Sora carefully scooped the owl up in his arms. The least he could do was sniff out Fujiwara and take him to her. Turning to the fox (it was his roommate’s, he was sure of it now. Distinctive smell on that guy), he addressed it brusquely, but bereft of any real rudeness. “I’ll take care of it. You can go back to whatever you were doing if you want.” He lifted a single shoulder in a shrug, surprisingly careful not to jostle the creature in his arms, and took off at a dead sprint.

Fujiwara’s smell, unusual as it was, was easy to pick out, by comparison to just about anyone’s, and he angled himself for her location, doubling his speed when he picked up the smell of blood—human blood—on her. The hell have you gotten yourself into, woman? He thought. For once, Sora didn’t bother to calculate the reasons for what he did, or what it was going to mean for him, he just acted. A bit like he had this morning, chasing off the creepy groupies. Some thing just weren’t optional, anyway.

He found her in a clearing, folded in on herself so as to make herself as small as possible, from the looks of it. He could detect the tremor in her limbs even from this distance, and he slowed his pace, moving closer at a pace she could properly register, scuffing his feet on the ground on purpose to make sure he was audible. Sora crouched in front of her, Snow the owl still held carefully to his chest. He was breathing normally enough, just unconscious. He must have hit the tree or something, which should have been amost impossible for an owl, let alone an intelligent familiar. Something was up, and he didn’t like it.

Sighing heavily, the young vampire shifted his hold so that he was cradling the bird in one arm, and used his now-freed hand to reach up, a single index finger extended, and press the tip of the digit to the center of the girl’s forehead. “Messed up, did you?” he asked bluntly, though something in his tone was almost… sympathetic. It was probably a good thing he wasn’t really listening to himself, more interested in her, and as always, his surroundings. If he’d heard the steely flint in his voice recede even a little, he would have withdrawn from the situation.

“You can’t make amends sitting here scared, Fujiwara. You’ve gotta stand up and face your problems. Head on.” He withdrew his arm, and smiled, his usual feral grin that carried equal parts mischief and danger. “If you need to punch something first, I promise I can take it.” Hell, violence was sometimes what you needed to fix a problem or get over a hurdle, and he understood this in a way that most people never would. Granted, he’d never volunteered to be a punching bag before, but then, he’d never been in a situation where it seemed like a good thing to do for somebody. He’d also listen if she had to vent at him, but then he already did that pretty often (when her irritation with his taunting turned into irritation more generally, he’d usually stick around and let her lay it on him), so he was pretty sure she’d know.

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"Should I tell a secret that doesn't belong to me?"




"Asuka," Snow spoke as slowly opened his eyes to the world again. He had found himself in Sora's arms and immediately spotted Asuka curled up in a ball, trembling. He wiggled himself out of Sora's grasp and flew to his master, nudging her ever so slightly as Sora had just did. Asuka, get up. You need to get up now, he begged as he watched Asuka unravel herself. She stared at the blank eyes of Sora, and for a moment, she had forgotten who he was.

When the words left his mouth, however, a certain spark broke the hold that seemed to have taken hold of Asuka and she narrowed her eyes at the male. Asuka, don't, the words of advice went unnoticed as Asuka found the strength in her legs to stand again. She took a wobbled step towards Sora, eyes still glaring at the pure-blood.

"I don't know what you are referring to, but I," she stopped as she brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the blood that still stained her lips. It was Haruka's blood, that she was sure of, however; that hold on her, it wasn't her when she bit Haruka. She hadn't meant to scare her roommate, and now she was sure she could never look at Haruka the same. She glanced back at Sora and sat in the same spot she had curled up in. Pulling her knee's to her chest, she hid her face behind them as her eyes seemed to glaze. Snow, what should I do? I can't tell him, she thought as Snow flew over to Sora's shoulder, landing gracefully like a snowflake.

If you don't, I will. You can't handle this alone Asuka. You need help, or else your hunger won't be satisfied" she heard his reply. She smiled a bit at his authoritive voice and shook her head. She tilted her head to the side so that she could see Sora a bit, debating whether or not to tell him her secret. I assure you he has already figured out you are not quite human Asuka, Snow continued as she sighed in defeat. She turned to Sora before returning her attention back to the forest. Her inner turmoil would have to be put to rest eventually, and if this was the only way, then perhaps...

"Have you ever felt like something wasn't quite right with you?" she began as she stared out into the forest. Of course she knew it was a frivolous question, but she had to ask it anyways. "I am sure you aware of Snow already. He...he's mine. He's my familiar. I created him about five years ago, but that is not what I want to say," she began. Her voice held it's tone, unwavering or cracking as she continued.

"I...I am not like you, but I am not like them either. But if I'm not human, then what am I?" she found herself speaking more to herself than to Sora as her voice died just above a whisper. She hated this feeling, the feeling of being weak and having to lean on someone. Especially since the only person around was the one man she always argued with. Something about his demeanor though caused Asuka to speak to him as if they were long time friends. She shook her head of the thoughts as she turned to Snow and Sora.

"You are something entirely different Asuka. You need to choose a side, the right side," he spoke before flying off. Asuka knew the meaning behind Snow's words, however; would Sora? She laughed to herself before she stood up. The smile she once held had now returned to a frown as she turned to Sora, a strange glint in her eyes.

"Snow seems to trust you, but I don't. Who was I kidding to think that I could actually tell you something...something so intimate that you wouldn't understand," she found her voice rising as she spoke each word. She was being defensive now. She didn't want to drag this man into her own world, although she already unwittingly had. "Do me a favor and don't pretend to care Tsukino," and with that she walked away, a lone tear falling from her eye as she made her way towards the school building. She couldn't sleep in her dorm room, not now anyways. Instead, she made her way to the only solace she received from this place: the music room. She went for the one thing that could make her feel better, the one thing she knew she could trust.

Her music.

Snow only shook his head from his perch before allowing sleep to consume him.

You ignorant child.

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“It’s a damn burden, isn’t it? Choice, I mean.”



Sora, much like one handling a wary or half-tamed animal (or perhaps someone who was a half-tamed animal) didn’t move, for the most part, his eyes tracking Fujiwara’s movements with uncanny precision, though they seemed to go a tad out-of-focus when she settled again, right in front of him as she had been. In truth, he was thus because it was easiest to detect movement that way, without fixating on one thing in particular. Not one for using his social graces, he figured it was probably rude, but in the end, she’d probably value her secrecy more than his manners, and this way, he’d know they weren’t being watched.

She was talking more to herself than him, though, though much as he hated to admit it, the words did strike a chord with him. Have you ever felt like something wasn’t quite right with you? He could have laughed, but it would not have been a pleasant sound. He was a freak of nature, even among his own people; when hadn’t there been something wrong with him? Even now, when he could hide his obvious deformities, he wore a brazen attitude instead, daring anyone who wasn’t a coward to come straight out and tell him what they thought of him. Nobody ever had—they were all too afraid of him, even without knowing what he was capable of.

That, he realized belatedly, was why he wasted so much of his valuable time prodding at Fujiwara. Because she wasn’t afraid of him, not even wary, at least not any more than she was of anyone else. This quality admittedly fascinated him, as until now the only people that had displayed it were either dead or Sachiko… or didn’t know any better.

His offer to be her punching bag was still in effect, and he took it to apply to the verbal lashings as well, hence offering no reply or retort while she vented right at him, though his eyes did narrow almost imperceptibly when she accused him of not understanding. He might not be half-human, but that wasn’t the only way to feel out of place, excluded. Everything he was grew from that very foundation, and he knew well that he wasn’t the only one, either. Lots of people dealt with that. Maybe it wasn’t always right in their blood, as it was with the two of them, but it was pervasive anyway. Just look at vampire society: anything less than perfect in your honeyed lies and showy decorum, in your meticulously-planned displays of power and wealth, and all of a sudden you were a pariah, unworthy of the dirt beneath someone else’s feet.

What she didn’t understand was something he knew well: the only person who could save you from a ‘fate’ like that was yourself.

She left in a huff, and for a long time, he remained there, perfectly still. The memory visited him in shadowplay, flickering ghosts behind his eyes, as though on an ephemeral film reel, grainy at the edges and faint, the voices almost blending into the rustle of grasses and the daytime birdsongs.

What happened?

I don’t know! I was just training with him, and then…

Your electricity disappeared?

I swear, it was him!

Faces glare down at the child, and a boot finds its way into his stomach. He accepts the punishment silently, assuming that it is merely another part of what he has come to see as normal. It is to make him stronger, they say, able to withstand anything without breaking. To look the power of so-called nobility in the eye and laugh at it. To know the pain of a thousand stinging needles, countless whip-lashes, and hold his tongue. To face the worst nightmares his mind could conjure, the most excruciating pains his body could experience, and simply endure. It is their way, and it is many years before he understands that his was always the worst. Because their hopes for him were always the highest.

Perverse, is it not?

It would be all that saved him, in the end.


Sora stood abruptly, shaking the last fragments of memory from his head. It was a useless thing; he had no need of such recollections. They strengthened him no further now, after all. This was a waste of time; he never should have come here. His time would undeniably be better spent preparing for tonight.

“So certain of that, are you?” a rich contralto voice asked, dripping with mockery, asked him, and the Tsukino survivor grimaced. Not you again, he thought in the creature’s general direction, eliciting a throaty chuckle. The panther emerged from the shadows of the trees, all liquid grace and effortless motion. Its color was such that it seemed cut from a starless night sky, or perhaps the dark side of the moon, save for its gem-bright eyes, a startling emerald green. “I see you’ve been as useless as ever while I was gone,” the cat continued nonchalantly, glancing around the clearing with steady gaze.

“What do you want, Midori?” he demanded of his familiar, scowling at her. To observe the interaction, one could not be blamed for assuming they disliked each other quite a bit, but such a theory would be shown false by the way which the black huntress approached, nudging her head under his arm. He sighed, but scratched behind one large rounded ear all the same. As far as familiars went, she was massive, easily large enough to carry two people mounted, three if they were small people.

She purred like a kitten under the attentions, but cracked one eye to look up at him wryly. Rather than answer his question directly, she offered a statement. “I overheard your conversation with the girl. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why should I? It’s not my place to decide anything about her life. Besides, I’m not here to make friends. We’ve been over this. She’s interesting enough, but that’s all.” He started back towards the edge of the forest, the great feline padding along just as noiselessly by his side, quite the feat considering her size.

“Such a waste,” She chided languidly. “I grow bored of your revenge schemes. You are at your best when your attentions are focused elsewhere, Sora.” Her tone was sly, but he knew she truly believed what she said. Too bad he didn’t.

“Oh yes, because I’m utterly fucking charming,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes to the sky above. The rasping chuckle sounded again, and she bumped his side with her head. Sheer reflex and solidity kept him from falling over—she was very strong.

“Not everyone needs pretty words. Sometimes, they just need true ones.”

He scoffed low in his throat. “There’s nobody on earth who’d prefer the ugly truth to a pretty lie, Midori. Especially not when it’s coming from me.”

She tilted her head to the side. “So you say. But I know you had something to tell her. I want you to tell her now. You’ll regret it, otherwise. You can’t watch out for people behind the scenes forever. Sooner or later, someone’s going to figure out that you’re not as bad as you make yourself seem.”

“Yes I am,” he replied, his tone so low that it almost constituted a growl. This was not a conversation he enjoyed, nor the first time he’d had it with her. In the end, though, there was only one way to make her give it up. “Fine. I’ll go try it, but I guarantee you she won’t even open the damn door, and I won’t blame her for it. People and I don’t mix.”

“Must be why you spend so much time talking to your cat,” She replied glibly, and his jaw tightened. Honestly; she really was insufferable sometimes. Whatever. He’d just get this over with, Fujiwara would ignore him as she rightly should, and he could go back to the entire point of his stay here without having to deal with shit from his familiar anymore. At least she hadn’t told Sachiko; his cousin would be fucking unbearable if she thought there was even a snowball’s chance in hell that he’s made a friend. Ridiculous.

He and his familiar entered the school building, both of them raising the angle of their heads to sniff the air in a curiously-matched motion. Catching the scent he was looking for, Sora followed it to, where else, the music room. Shooting the large panther another glare, he approached the door, laying one palm flat against it and leaning forward until his forehead made contact with the wood as well. Standing like that, he waited for the song to end—properly this time—then tapped the door twice with his knuckles. He made no move to enter however. Midori had never said he had to say any of this sentimental bullshit to her face.

But it’s not bullshit, is it? Midori thought at him, traces of amusement tingeing the mental communication. Every word of it will be true, and that’s what you can give that few others do. His scowl deepened, but there wasn’t a point in retorting to that at present. Taking a deep breath, he spoke through the door, not particularly loudly, but firmly. “Not gonna pretend to care here, Fujiwara,” he said, echoing her words from earlier, “But I do get it. Do I ever fucking get it..” he shook his head.

“To you, I’m just that dumbass that you get angry at every once in a while, but it’s kind of bullshit to just assume that people aren’t going to get your problems, you know.” He pressed his forehead harder into the wood panel of the door. “You’re you,” he said, and this was much quieter. He supposed it might have been tough to hear through the door, but he was gonna do this his own way or not at all, dammit, and Midori could shove it if she didn’t like it.

“And that’s enough of a thing to be. The rest of it’s just stupid shit that people are gonna pretend is important for your whole life. You don’t have to let them, though.” Another pause, and he pushed himself away from the door. This was a stupid idea. He sounded like a damn idiot, saying the things he wished someone had told him all those years ago. True things, but he’d been fed a diet of lies instead. Shaking his head, he shoved his hands into his pockets and started away from the door.

He’d known he was right—nobody had any use for him as anything but a weapon. It was all he was good at, after all, and he’d accepted that. He couldn’t do this people stuff; better to leave it to someone else and get on with his business.

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Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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|“There is a reason why all things are as they are.”|

Fear. Disbelief. Terror. Shock. This was all being experienced by the human girl before him. She even grabbed hold onto his arms so, tightly, her nails piercing his skin. The pain was insignificant to him so, there was not much of concern. What troubles him the most was the girl staring at him with such helplessness and fright. The things that were revealed to her must have triggered old memories beyond redemption. With his free hand, he gently wiped her tears away while he removed his other hand from her bite mark. It had already stopped bleeding and would soon clot. In all of these, his eyes never once showed anything that could be recognized as a fragment of emotions. He was truly like a void that simply takes and never reveals. Perhaps, because he is empty, it cause a certain degree of comfort.

Once more through the silence, he cut with his voice so crisp, clean, yet hauntingly empty. "Do you wish to forget?" His question hanged around them like a shield that is impenetrable. Those golden eyes never once looking away from the human girl. Awaiting for her answer, he recalled a conversation regarding memories. It was then a voice much like akin to a feather played within his consciousness. "What would you do if its your memories that would cause your destruction? Would you still not erase it?" A certain person had asked that of him. The dialogue was supposedly innocent and thus, he had kept it in the depths of his mind. Who would know that those words now haunt him like a never-ending melody. Even if he tried hard not to listen, it will always make it a point to enter his being so easily. Now, it echoed so loudly as he looked at the human girl meeting those blue eyes filled of fear.

Remembering something, Zenith reached inside one of his pockets. Soon, he procured a wonderfully crafted waterlily. It was made of wood however, it appeared to be of crystal which speaks of how skillful he is. It was so dainty and delicate looking as he took her hand and placed the artwork on her palm. The size was just perfect for her hand as it caught some light from the moon above, making it shimmer so subtly. "Waterlily, the perfect beauty, It fits you. I'm a bit envious." The voice echoed once more into his head. It caused quite the gloom within him as there was nothing perfect about him. In his opinion, he was imperfect in every way. Even then, his face showed nothing but pristine emotionless. He looked at the wooden bloom on her hand and spoke. "Being scared is natural. But you should not let it cripple you." He then directed his eyes on her again. "I want you to face it then grow strong."

However if the girl truly wishes to forget, he would not impede that. "Would you still not erase it?" Those words echoed once more as he made to a point never to meddle with memories even how dreadful it could be. He leaned closer and pressed his forehead against hers. It gave a certain soothing sensation from that simple movement of his. "But if you do forget, do not ever regret." With that said, a translucent light embraced the two of them as he peered into her memories. His face did not contort to show how he felt about the images. But, it did cause quite an alarm. "When you wake up, I will be waiting for your decision whether to forget or face it." The translucent night that encircled them brighten and soon the human girl should feel slight drowsy and then fall asleep.

When the human girl did fall asleep, Zenith caught her falling form and cradled the girl close to his chest. He then proceeded to leave the area. It seemed he would be tardy for his classes this evening. He would have to apologize to his teacher about it later. For now, he went to the direction of the dormitories. It did not take long for him to find the girl's room as it perforated with her scent strongly. In addition, the faint trail of the prefect's scent was also present. The two are roommates what a dilemma for the confused and scared human girl. In any case, he laid the girl on the bed and made sure she was comfortable and covered her with a comforter. After doing so, he then bit into his index finger enough to break skin as the blood that flowed became a lone black butterfly. This would watch over the human girl in his stead for the night. As an added effect, the scent of sweetness filled the room ever so gently making a peaceful atmosphere.

The said butterfly landed at the pillow beside the human girl's head. He hoped that when the girl does wake up. She would face her fears instead of opting to run away. He did not want her to be like him. Speaking of which, he remembered that he answered those haunting words about memories. "I want to live with all my memories. Even if they are bad memories. Even if they are memories that only hurt me. If I keep them and keep trying without running away, then someday, I will be strong enough that those memories cannot defeat me. I believe that because I want to think there are no memories that should be forgotten." Yes, he did say that a long time ago. He remembered that person smiled and said, what was it again? This was odd, he could not recall. Well, in the end, it might be selfish. He did not want to erase the girl's memories.

Facing such things are better than running away into the fake pleasure of comfort. It would also be better for the prefect. He knew that better than anyone. Taking one last look at the human, he gave a polite nod and spoke. "Good night." With that, he left the room once more. There were a lot of things to think about along with the fact seeing the female prefect drinking blood. That peculiar smell was it related to that? Perhaps, it was. Did the foreboding feeling he and O felt be related to this? For now, he let those questions linger in his thoughts as he headed for his classes. It was better to be late than never as they say. However, he found himself before the other pure blood of the academe. It seemed he unconsciously led himself to the source of the human girl's distress and now he was face-to-face with his roommate. Furthermore, he heard a portion of Sora's dialogue.

“And that’s enough of a thing to be. The rest of it’s just stupid shit that people are gonna pretend is important for your whole life. You don’t have to let them, though.”

And the only proper thing that Zenith could think to say was, "Good evening, Mr. Tsukino."

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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#, as written by Azazel



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"Someone once told me to trust those who seek the truth and not those who claim to know it."




Warm liquid spilled on Asuka's fingers as she continued to pull the bow across the violin. Was she crying? Why was she crying? When the song came to an end, she wiped the tears away with the back of her hand when a rap at the door caused her to turn her head. She could smell the familiar scent of Tsukino, as she had addressed him not more than a few minutes ago. She was about to tell him to leave her alone as she stood from her spot, however; the words that spilled from his mouth caused Asuka to pause in her steps.

She leaned against the door as he continued to speak to her. The noise had disturbed Snow from his slumber as he peered into the music room, his azure eyes watching his master as she leaned against the door further. Would it hurt to at least try? he thought as Asuka opened the door.

She spotted the Rosenkruez pure-blood, but ignored him as she walked out of the music room, marching straight up to Tsukino and grabbed his hand. With the way she drew her other hand, one would have thought that she was about to slap the pure-blood, however; she did something a bit more...unlike herself. She embraced him, burying her head deep into his shirt and allowed herself to hold him that way. She didn't care at the moment that the pure-blood might have resented her for it, but she wanted to thank him.

"Thank you Sora," she spoke as she released him. She held on to the words he spoke, as they held a certain truth for her. She was Asuka. There was no underlying meaning to that. It felt strange to her though, thanking the one person whom she argued constantly with, however; his words about him being just an idiot she vented at stung her slightly. She didn't hate the pure-blood, just disliked the way he handled things. If it was any consolation, she herself would be an idiot as well as the both of them shared similar outlooks on their opinions on things. She glanced back towards the silver-haired pure-blood and bowed slighty.

"Excuse me, but I must correct a mistake," she spoke, particularly to no one, however; she was facing Zenith when she spoke those words. With that said and done, she began to make a slow walk towards her dorm room. Snow watched as the events unfolded and allowed a ghost of a smile to appear, or some sort of a semblance of a smile before he returned to his slumber.

You will see eventually Asuka, how much you need those around you, were the only thoughts that plagued Snow's mind as Asuka walked down the hallways of the Academy. She didn't know what she would say to Haruka, what could she say? Hey, I'm sorry I bit you please forgive me? It was too simple and if she showed her self to Haruka now, all she would be doing is ensuring the girls' insanity.

Asuka sighed in a stressful manner as she ran a hand through her auburn tresses. She soon found herself standing at her shared dorm room. She took a hesitant step towards the door, almost as if it would burn her if she were to touch it. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, and was greeted with the light breathing of a sleeping form. Asuka took a hesitant step forward, gently calling out Haruka's name before she spotted the red haired girl asleep comfortably in her own bed. She sighed as she took a seat in the chair lodged by the window. Slowly, she felt her eyes grow heavier and soon, she herself had fallen asleep in the room she shared.

Whether Haruka would forgive her or not, only time would tell.

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion


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“People are complicated. Revenge is so much simpler.”



Sora halted in his tread away from the door at the sound of his roommate’s voice. Great, he’d had an audience for his incredible stupidity. Just what he needed. And what was the guy doing here anyway? Shouldn’t he be trying to avoid large hordes of admirers or something? Almost as if to check that there were none, the dark man’s eyes focused over the light one’s shoulders for a minute. Nope. No slavering herds of fangirls. That was just plain unusual. He couldn’t imagine that his overly-polite roommate had actually properly told them off for once, so maybe he was just getting better at hiding or something.

Sora’s reply, such as it was, was automatic. “Rosenkreuz.” He inclined his head slightly, but it was not a gesture of deference, just acknowledgement. If there was one thing to be said in favor of his incredibly-blunt mannerisms, it was that at least he always treated people like people. He may not have it in him to defer to anyone, but he wasn’t such an ass that he’d completely ignore somebody who seemed to lack ill intentions.

Still, it wasn’t like he had anything else to say, and there was no way the guy was here for him, so he continued on his way, Midori at his side stopping to offer the other vampire a more complete, if equally irreverent “Good evening, Mr. Rosenkreuz.” With her, though, it was the slightly sly tone that always accomplished this, rather than the brevity of her phrases.

He thought he was going to escape this bizarre incident unscathed, but his shoulders stiffened when he heard the door open behind him. It was followed by the sound of Fujiwara’s marching feet, and he turned around again with resignation. It was more than a little irritating that whatever tongue-lashing she was going to give him now was going to have onlookers, but then they fought in relatively public locations fairly often, so it probably wouldn’t seem that far removed from the ordinary. She’d grabbed his hand, forcing the neutral set of his mouth back into a deep scowl—people did not touch him, ever—and drew back her free one. Oh, so it was going to be the violence thing? He could probably deal with—

What? was the only thought that properly registered for a few seconds after that. The rest was just sensation: arms, thin but strong, wrapped around his torso, a face pressed into his uniform shirt, the unfamiliar contours of another’s form. What the fuck was going on? Midori’s cat-laughter was the only audible sound, and he shot her a venomous glare, holding his hands awkwardly at his sides because he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

You’re supposed to hug back, the cat informed him smugly, which he supposed meant that he ought to put his arms around her, too, but what of his face? He couldn’t really do exactly the same thing she was doing, nor did he have a particular desire to. Sora had not been hugged before in his life; it wasn’t something that was done in his family, nor had anyone else ever shown the faintest inkling of wanting to. In the end, he just placed a hand on Fujiwara’s shoulder with some hesitation and waited it out, weathering his considerable awkwardness as well as he could. His first thought had been that she was trying to crush the wind out of him, which was an awfully difficult way to try killing someone, but he’d thought she at least had points for guts.

The way Midori spoke of this, though, it was not an act of violence at all, which puzzled him. Still, he allowed it for the sake of what he’d promised, since that was the only way he could really think of it. Eventually, she drew away on her own, and he made no effort to hide the perplexed look on his face, one that only deepened when she thanked him again. This was officially the weirdest day he’d ever had.

Then she mentioned fixing a mistake, and he supposed maybe something he’d said had made sense after all. He stayed in place until she’d disappeared around the corner, then shot a glance at Rosenkreuz.

“…I don’t understand people.”

And that was really all he could say about it.

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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|“I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.”|

The trickles of gratitude and gestures of warmth, these were silently witnessed by Zenith who stood there much like mannequin or statue would. There was no change in his demeanor as he watch the events unfold. It would seem there was no need to forget. The thought alone was comforting to him. Hopefully, the human girl would do the same as well. "Excuse me, but I must correct a mistake." Seeing the determined expression of the prefect, it was a source of relief. Even if there were still questions plaguing him about who Fujiwara is truly, he would simply let it pass for now. After all, the fact about one's self is not easily reconciled or known. It is the same for him. He has yet to really know who he is. All he knows were the decorum others had made for him. Somehow, it seems tragic and it saddens just a little bit.

“…I don’t understand people.” Meeting Tsukino's eyes, Zenith understood what the pure blood meant. Despite being surrounded by people, he never truly understood their intentions in doing so. He never saw depth in their actions towards him and he came to a point not to be bothered by them in a sense. Nevertheless, there was still a wall. A barrier that can never be broken down. In a sense, people are truly complicated. It goes to him and even perhaps, Tsukino. Directing his eyes to the direction where Fujiwara disappeared into, he then spoke. "You are not the only one." After a few moments of silence, he looked at Tsukino once more. He remembered that he had something to say to his roommate. "Thank you. O told me about how you stop people from interrupting my sleep earlier." Once that was said, he gave a formal bow of gratitude.

When that was done, he returned to his former position. Zenith still wondered about Fujiwara as he recalled the memories he had seen from the human girl. A person in between, it is truly a frightening place to be. However, he has confidence that those two girls will be able to pull through. They are stronger than anyone else thought they could be. The assurance of that thought dispelled any further concerns. He then politely excused himself. It seemed there was no need for his presence here in the first place.

"I would take my leave now, Mr. Tsukino." Walking passed the other pure blood, a faint smell of blood could be noticed which was highly unusual mixed in with his usual aromatic rose scent. It was probably from the human girl he had carried earlier. He must unknowingly got a smudge on his uniform along the way.

Stopping midway, he wondered if it would be fine to ask. Looking over his shoulders to Tsukino. He pondered asking about the situation of Fujiwara. Perhaps, it was better not to. A matter such as that should be divulged by the prefect herself at her own time and volition. There was also the matter of an odd presence within the Academy. However, he ultimately did not want to bother Tsukino with such matters. His face remained placid without much a hint of his inner emotions. One would wonder how he was able to perfect such a facade.

"You know you should never show your emotions."

"Why?"

"Because it is a weakness only I'm allowed to see. Plus, you're a king and kings don't need emotions."

In the end, Zenith simply left without another utter of any word. He will be proceeding to his classes now. After all, it is still the night and creatures such as them linger in the darkness. Even if they are called to the light, they shy away from it. May be, it would be possible someday to get out of the shadows but not right now.

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion


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“Gratitude is for people who go out of their way. I never do anything I don’t want to, so nobody should thank me for any of it.”



“Hell man,” Sora replied plainly, raising both hands in a gesture of something between refusal and surrender, “None of that bowing shit, please. I just… did what seemed right at the time. You don’t need to thank me for being an impulsive bastard. Don’t even like ‘em, anyway,” he finished, more muttering the last sentence than properly stating it. The people who’d been creeping on Zenith were some of the same ones that glared at him with derision for daring to be the guy’s randomly selected roommate, for the love of fuck. Frankly, the opportunity to start something with them was welcome… or something like that.

Anyway, Rosenkreuz left after that, which was just fine by Sora, who was pretty sure he could use an opportunity to get away from all this complicated stuff and back to something simple… like killing things. That was the easiest thing in the world. Some people might find that unfortunate, but to him it was just normal. He was a Tsukino, and the family business was bringing death to the deathless. That still applied even if half the family was dead.

Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the piece of paper and read the name. Hm. He knew this one; interesting. He would not have picked the man on it to be involved in the killings of his family, but Sachiko was never wrong. Though they slew without mercy, his family was also absolutely scrupulous about researching their targets first. No death without a reason, and none without a cause. His reasons were the best ones he knew, and he was the only cause. None other guided his hand any longer, for this was the path he’d chosen for himself. He would not allow anyone else to define him any longer. Fate would not have him, to place in chains and yank around at her will. He forged his own chains, and bound himself only because nobody was truly free.



His target was some miles from Cross, but he was hardly concerned with missing class. If all went according to plan, he’d be back before the passing period. From his locked closet, he took the arms and armament he wanted—though he could just as easily fight with his body alone, he preferred to conduct electricity through metal objects, preferably bladed ones if at all possible. To this end, his preferred implement was a split-bladed knife of about a foot and a half in length, somewhere between a dagger and a sword, though he also concealed a number of throwing knives and some wires on his person. A proper assassin was never without at least five backup plans, and if ever there was a proper assassin, he was it.

Last was the pearly-white mask, unadorned save for the fuchsia marking slashing one eye.

There! It looks so much better that way, don’t you think?

He had not the heart to change the design. Better that the last thing those bastards saw before they died carried some trace of their forgotten collateral damage, anyway. Nobody was insignificant or unimportant. Nobody. He’d make damn sure they knew it before he ripped them apart.

Crossing to the opposite side of his room, Sora opened the window, releasing it even as his fingers began to take on a strange, feathery pattern. Most vampiric transformations were instantaneous, lost in a burst of light or something of that nature. Sora’s was strangely beautiful, or at least he’d been told so. Perhaps there was something to be said for it, the way the feathers appeared first as tattoo-black on his skin, erupting from the surface of it even as he shrank, the front of his mask distending into a hooked beak and turning the black of obsidian, or perhaps onyx. The wings burst from his back, and he stretched his arms to his side, that they might meld into these. Within a few seconds, he was a large, entirely night-colored falcon, and he hopped onto the windowsill, taking off and spreading his wings in silent flight out the window.

His destination took him a few minutes to reach, and he chose to land out-of-sight on a rooftop, straightening up as he lost the form of the bird, though not before plucking a single feather from his own wing. He had always enjoyed the sensation of flight, and had his life been different, might have employed such journeys for no other purpose than the exaltation of the wind beneath his wings. But his life was not different, and so instead he used it as an efficient form of transport to take him to his targets.

This one left the prescribed building right on schedule, and for several minutes, his future murderer did nothing more than follow him from above, hopping silently from roof to roof under the cover of darkness. His attention was unwavering, fixed on the deader (another word for victim—a dead man who does not yet know he is dead), but also spread to take in his surroundings. There was always the chance that someone would try to sneak up on him. They would fail, but they could try.

At long last, the target hit a backalley shortcut, and behind his expressionless mask, Sora rolled his eyes. You think they’d learn, but people never ceased to amaze him with their stupidity, not even those who were supposed to be ‘above’ others. Despite his boredom, he felt his adrenaline picking up as a matter of reflex—a kill was nigh, and his every visceral instinct was attuned to it. This was what he had been born and raised to do, and he had never known anything else. It should not come as a surprise to anyone who knew that to know that he found a certain kind of artistry in it. He was a creature of planning and precision, and he’d mapped the exact course of events for this night long before this moment.

Shifting in his crouch, Sora extended a hand to touch a nearby drainpipe, currently trickling a steady stream of water into a small puddle, which the deader even now approached. His timing needed to be perfect, but then, when perfection in such matters had always been demanded of you, you grew somewhat accustomed to it. Indeed, the pulse of electricity wasn’t even a second off, and the man collapsed with a muffled cry. The voltage hadn’t been lethal, though he could have made it so. No no, this required a considerably more… personal touch.

Launching himself into a flip off the roof, Sora landed with nothing more than a rush of air, straightening at once and approaching the deader from behind, drawing his blade as he did. His free arm wound around the man, a gloved hand closing over his nose and mouth even as he struggled to stand upright after the jolt he’d received. “Kristoff Kline,” he murmured, tone clear even through the mask. It might as well have been the voice of the void for all the emotion it displayed. “You have taken that which was not yours to destroy.” Slowly, Sora raised the knife to lay it across the man’s collarbone. The deader’s eyes went wide, and he started to struggle, but the Tsukino’s grip was as an iron vise, and there was no escaping it.

“I am what you sought to kill, and yet you failed. I hope you are satisfied, for I will never be. This is for Sakura and Yuusuke. I don’t expect you to remember them, but you will now.” He was never one for protracted talking, and he wasted no more words now, slicing into the exposed throat with brutal force, parting the vampire’s head from his shoulders. The body crumbled away to dust, creating a pile of ash near the bloody puddle, and the head was unceremoniously tossed on top. That would fade, too, eventually, but likely not before someone found it. The last touch was a simple one, a signature: the feather he’d extracted from his shifted self was dropped into the puddle, where it created only the faintest of ripples there, a last testament to a deed done from the greatest of pains and the oldest of motives.



He was back on campus before sunrise, as anticipated, the evidence of his deeds—the mask— stowed within his coat. He’d not acquired any new bloodstains, though doubtless he smelled faintly of it. It wasn’t like anyone cared enough (or was brave enough) to question him about it, and he was heading back to his room to shower anyhow. That said, he would not enter the same way he left, just in case Rosenkreuz so happened to be there. He hadn’t ever been thus far, but Sora wasn’t one to take chances.

On his way into the grounds, Sachiko had called him with an unexpected piece of news. She had a name. The entire time he’d been hunting their killers, he’d never known who’d pulled the strings behind it. But his cousin, his brilliant, loyal cousin, had at last struck upon something. The faintest whisper, and not even a thing that made real sense, but something that pricked a vague sense of memory, like a thorn in his mind. Perhaps his parents had mentioned it, but regardless it seemed important.

Contra Mundi.

But what did that mean? Against the world was the literal Latin, but that was hardly a clue. There was a new would-be tyrant born every fucking day, what made this one so special? So distracted was he that he didn’t even register that someone was on a collision course for him, so naturally, he failed to step out of the way. Not that this was a big deal to him—he was quite a solid person and quite skilled at keeping his feet besides. Less fortunate was the person that ran into him, and indeed doubly so, for he scented a trace of blood immediately thereafter. Furrowing his brows, he looked down, and couldn’t decide whether he should laugh at the grand joke the universe was playing on him or just curse his luck.

Her again? Someone, somewhere is having fun fucking with you, Tsukino.

Something about the fact that she was bleeding didn’t sit well with him. Particularly that he had caused it, which was absurd if he really thought about it. He’d just murdered a man without batting an eyelash, slit his damn throat, and here he was, perturbed that this girl had a minor injury that was mostly her fault anyway. What the fuck was wrong with him? Sure, she had nothing to do with the death of his family and was interesting on some level, but really?

Sighing, mostly at himself, he reached into a pocket and extracted a handkerchief. It wasn’t his, of course; in fact it belonged to Sachiko, but he carried it around because the troublesome girl insisted that they were useful and he should never be without a clean one. “Shit, Fujiwara, if you’re this clumsy, I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive so many years at this school,” he groused, reverting to their normal schema of banter and insults because he didn’t know how else to handle the situation. Unusually for him, though, he did grasp her wrist with surprising gentleness and pull the arm forward, applying the handkerchief to the elbow with his other hand. “Be more careful, unless you want the mosquitoes sniffing at you.”

He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but she did smell rather good, so it was a legitimate concern. Moving her other hand to take over holding the handkerchief to her wound, he stepped back a few feet and swallowed. He was certainly quite capable of controlling himself, however, and so he made no move to dab at the drop still upon the metal surface of the locker. Running a hand though his hair, he glanced up and down the hallway. Nothing yet, but… “Being who you are, that should heal pretty quick, but you should get out of here until it does, yeah? And don’t argue about your duties or whatever—I’ll take care of it.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d just volunteered to do that, but he’d go with it. Better prefect duties for one shift than an incident between the Night Class and a ‘human’ student, right? He’d never be able to do his work in peace if there were all sorts of highborn idiots snooping around the place, as there surely would be if such an incident occurred. “And I really hope you’re not thinking about thanking me,” he added quickly, “Cause if you do, deal’s off.” He wasn’t assuming anything, but he did want to make sure. He wasn’t sure he could stand any more thanking—he’d had enough of that for a month, at least.

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Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Azazel



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"Every time I make a corner, you're always there. Why is it always you?"




Shit, Fujiwara, if you’re this clumsy, I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive so many years at this school. Be more careful, unless you want the mosquitoes sniffing at you. Being who you are, that should heal pretty quick, but you should get out of here until it does, yeah? And don’t argue about your duties or whatever—I’ll take care of it.” were the words that registered into Asuka's mind as she glanced up at the person she ran into. She frowned at his words and attempted to place a hand on her hip when he grasped her arm gently, pulling out a handkerchief in the process. He placed it upon her arm as she stared in confusion at the boy.

"What is wrong with you Tsukino? You're actually attending to me. Since when did you become so soft? I don't remember this Tsukino," she retorted as she pulled her hand out of his grasp. Luckily, it was at the same time he released her hand, grabbed the other and placed it on the wound. She finally placed her hand on her hip, her gaze not faltering as she kept it glued to Sora. "And no, you will not be taking over my duties as a prefect. You don't... she paused in mid-sentence. Of course he would be qualified to perform her duties. He was a pure-blood after all. Her brows furrowed further together as she took a step back. She hadn't noticed the drop of blood lingering on the jagged edge of the locker and continued to speak.

"Go back to your dorm, you reak" she continued. It was half true as he had smelled of a faint tinge of blood, however; she wasn't going to question where it came from. It wasn't her business to know and the students all seemed accounted for. The blood did not belong to one of them. If it had, she would have had to have done something about it. "And for your information I am not clumsy. Same could be said to you Tsukino. If you had seen me coming, why didn't you move out of the way?" she retorted to his first statement.

He was right in that the small flesh wound would heal being who she was, and she could already feel the process beginning as she removed the handkerchief. She would have returned it to him, but it had her blood on it. She didn't know if the smell would bother him and she didn't want to take a chance with him. She stuffed the blood caked handkerchief into her back pocket and turned around, noticing a group of onlookers. What were they waiting for? A sonata? She glared at the group, causing some to back off and hide in their classrooms while others continued on their way to class.

"She won't be needing your services Kara," a voice came out from behind. Asuka turned to spot Hayate, his honey brown eyes glaring at Sora. He had seen the whole ordeal and he had stormed his way towards the two. He didn't like Asuka associating with them let alone when one actually touched her. His gaze did not falter under the gaze of the pure-blood, his eyes spilling malice. Asuka could see the emotions flickering through Hayate's eyes, fighting to keep control of his emotions. She pulled Hayate away from Sora, noticing the murderous intentions behind the honey-brown eyes of her brother.

"Hayate, look at me. Everything is fine, I want you to inform the Headmaster for me that I will be participating in the festival. I will be doing a performing arts with my violin," she tried to get his attention away from Sora as best as she could. She knew that once Hayate was in his mood he would most likely try to provoke the vampire into attacking him. The words did not provide the reaction she had hoped for when his attention was dropped towards her.

"I don't know why you associate yourself with such filth" he stated before walking off. She watched as he disappeared around a corner and sighed. She turned back to Sora, gave him a small, apologetic smile and walked off. She needed to continue her rounds anyways. She didn't have time to have a friendly banter with Sora.

When did it become friendly? The last time I remember, it was always a sincere bantering. Everything you two said to each other was not just to relieve stress now was it? she heard Snow who appeared in front of her. She sighed, extended her arm towards him, and allowed him to sit still on her arm. She rubbed his chest feathers before glancing behind her. You know, you could always tell him how you feel Snow continued. Asuka turned to Snow, a light pink dusting her cheeks as she did so.

I don't know what you are talking about. He's not exactly my type you know, She retorted, puffing out her cheeks as Snow laughed.

I hadn't meant it that way, but when you put it in perspective, he began as Asuka noticed the strange glint in his eyes. She tried to grab her familiar but he had already taken off to the sky. His laughter echoing through her mind.

"I hate you,"

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion


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“I never meant to be there. I didn’t want to be, yet there I was anyway.”



“I ain’t soft,” he groused, “It’d just be really damn inconvenient if the school’s only prefect got eaten by a bloodsucker, okay? The old man would probably try making me do this shit again, and I don’t have the patience.” The headmaster had bothered him more than once about taking up such duties, actually, and it wasn’t something he was particularly eager to do, but… no, dammit, he wasn’t even considering it!

He scowled deeply at the comment about his smell. He could say the same, only it was her own blood she smelled of, and if some half-controlled dumbass got it in their head to have a taste of the free stuff, her secret would be all over the school in minutes. Didn’t she get that? Oh fuck it, he didn’t care.

Don’t you? Midori teased, and he barely avoided growling. Bitch wasn’t even here and she still managed to bother him like she was standing right next to him. He hated that about her, the nosy creature. She laughed in the back of his mind, which only served to make him grumpier. Strangely enough, it wasn’t a particularly violent kind of grumpy—he felt more like… sulking. Which was absolutely pathetic and not something he ever allowed himself to do. He certainly wasn’t going to start now.

So he shrugged and was fully intent on leaving (because weird shit tended to go down when he hung around this woman, and he didn’t need more weird in his life right now), when—joy of joys—they were joined by a human who could give him a run for his money in the anger department, apparently. Beyond that, he’d used Sora’s least-favorite moniker, which meant that even though he didn’t recognize the guy (the number of people around here who hated him was truly staggering, and he didn’t bother to keep track of them all), moron thought he knew something about him. They always did think so, didn’t they?

Maybe it was just because he wore his bad attitude out there for all to see, refusing to hide it like all the self-righteous, entitled dumbasses that hid everything behind manners and decorum.

Was this guy trying to pick a fight with him? If so, he was doing a pretty bad job of it. Sora met the snapping glare with a dead-eyed stare, the one that had earned him the nickname empty in the first place. His expression was completely devoid of anything, as though he weren’t even truly hearing the words. It was, unbeknownst to anyone here, an assassin’s face. He wore the actual mask from tradition, not necessity. “True enough,” he said in the end with a shrug. “Fujiwara can handle herself.” She could do what she wanted, be who she wanted, and he had no intentions of interfering with that at all. He wondered if this guy could say the same.

He was also more or less right when he called him filth, though for the wrong reason. In all likelihood, this guy either hated vampires or Tsukinos, and neither one of those things was the reason Sora was bad news for everyone he met. Still, he rarely bothered to correct such errors, and so when they both left, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and did the same, retreating to his room for a while to shower and change, stowing all his equipment save his knife, and then he crawled out his window and jumped to the ground, covering the distance to the main school building and taking a running jump, landing quite far up and ascending the rest of the way.

He liked sleeping on the roof best, since you really had to work to get up there—namely, you had to climb or fly, and most of the fools around here cared for their dignity far too much to do either of those things. Actually, maybe he could tip Rosenkreuz off to the fact that nobody would bother him if he found his way up here… or maybe not. This was kind of his sanctuary, after all, and he didn’t want to risk the really crazy ones finding out about this and swarming around like rats or something.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed a familiar number, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up before he spoke. “Sachiko, it’s done.”

“I heard,” she replied grimly, ”It’s already making news in some circles.” There was a pause, and for a moment he feared another of her speeches trying to convince him to stray from the path he’d chosen for himself. Instead, she abruptly switched topics. “She’s been asking for you, Sora-kun.”

He clenched his teeth. Practically the same as the speech, only worse. “You know I can’t see her, Sachiko. I made my choice. I can either—”

“—give her useless words or give her a world where justice is served, I know,” His cousin replied. “But do you really think she understands that? All she knows that that you’re gone and you never visit her. She thinks she’s done something wrong, Sora-kun. She thinks you stay away because you hate her, and you know she always liked you best. Can’t you just think about how she feels?”

His free hand curled into a fist, slowly uncurling again, clenching and relaxing, the rhythmic movement the only thing presently keeping him in check. The truth was, that hurt. As much as he disdained forming bonds with people, there were some he’d been unable to avoid, and he loved her, he did, with all his withered, blackened, unworthy heart. “Tell her…” he started, then shook his head violently. “No. Dammit, Sachiko, you know it’s better if she forgets about me. She will, if you stop reminding her. Just let her forget. Please.”

After a few more seconds, he hung up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket, and lay down on his back, folding his weapon-callused hands behind his head and staring up at the sky. Dammit. Kaede… I’m sorry. His thoughts were troubled for a time, but eventually, the events of the last day caught up with him, and he fell into uneasy slumber.

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Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion


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“For some things, there are no second chances.”



In the space of about two weeks between what he was privately terming the ‘Fujiwara Incident’ and today, he’d killed three more people, all of them relatively prominent vampires, and all of them somehow loosely connected to someone calling themselves the Contra Mundi. But information on this person or persons was scarce, and even Sachiko, who was attempting to control her dreams to learn more of him, her, or them, wasn’t able to glean much yet, which meant that Sora’s life had gone into something of a holding pattern, though to call it a measure of complacency would be to mistake him for someone who was ever anything other than vigilant. His security measures had long crossed lines that other people would label with names like ‘paranoia’ and ‘fixation,’ but then other people weren’t being actively hunted.

He knew his extracurricular activities, so to speak, had put a rather large target on his back, but for the moment it was one that he only had to worry about when he chose to present himself as Null. Of yet, nobody had realized that the surviving Tsukino was a member of the main family, not a branch cousin like Sachiko, and naturally, Null left no witnesses. The link just wasn’t there to find if one assumed all of the “known” information was true. But that would only protect him for so long, and he was well-aware of this fact.

It was why he changed his routine every day, rarely slept in the same place twice, and certainly not twice consecutively. It was why he was always armed, even when he was simply in his room, and why he didn’t bother going to class most days. Why should he make it easier for anyone by being where they expected him to be? Of course, he did show up occasionally, mostly just to stay unpredictable, but unfortunately his truancy had at last come to the attention of the headmaster, who had in turn called the young pureblood into his office. It was the requisite self-indulgent speech about the value of an education, and wouldn’t he like to get to know his peers better, both Day and Night Class?

He’d actually laughed at that, a mirthless sound that he’d seen send a shiver down the old codger’s spine. Perhaps appropriate—it was an empty sound, as empty as the place in his chest where his heart should be, or the one in his brain that should hold his conscience, maybe. Oh, no… it was the lack of a soul, surely, that did it. Kara did suit him better than Sora, after all, he just didn’t like it when other people pretended to know why.

Regardless, the old dolt had been persistent, and though he was in no mood to acquiesce, he’d agreed to the less troublesome of the two ‘options’ presented to him, because he needed this position in the school to keep him close to his information and connected to the pulse of the vampire world, to use an ironic turn of phrase. He could manage without his enrollment here, it would just be harder, and his instinct told him he needed to be here, at least for a little while longer. So, instead of pretending like he gave a damn about this festival and participating like all his esteemed peers had been convinced to do, he was working a covert security detail. Apparently, the headmaster was concerned about the fact that the school had only one prefect for such a large event, and she was also a participant.

Hence his present location, up a tree on the grounds not ten feet from the nearest festival stall, watching everything and nothing all at once. Even as close as he was to them, none had yet noticed him, for he masked his scent and nobody ever looked up. He wasn’t even actively trying to hide—he just didn’t tend to draw attention unless he wanted it. It was the tarnish, maybe; he wasn’t near as shiny as some personalities, nor did he strive to it.

He watched those arrayed on the ground bustle about their business, the occasional peal of laughter ringing out into the evening, the events well and truly underway now. Out of consideration for the sun-sensitivity of some of his kind, there had been large umbrellas and colorful tents set up for much of the day, but as the sun fell beneath the horizon, they were being taken down, allowing every student full view of the sky, the deep reds and oranges now spangled with dusky purples and the first shades of nighttime blue. What were his damn parents thinking, naming him after something as beautiful as that? Fools.

One figure drew his attention simply by moving contrary to the slow eddy and flow of the foot traffic on the ground, and he recognized Fujiwara, carrying her violin. She appeared to be headed to a makeshift stage of some sort, and Sora shifted slightly, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees. A public showcase, was it? He’d have thought after three years at Cross and no performances that he’d ever heard of, she either didn’t want people listening or was afraid to play in public. Whichever it must have been, it was no longer the case now, apparently, and he watched with intent curiosity as she moved about to a new song this time.

It was very… expressive, this sort of thing. He’d been inclined to simply close his eyes and listen when the music had filtered from behind a closed door, but he realized now that the visual element was a component of the whole not to be ignored. As a man who’d been taught well to read body language, he had a certain professional interest in what of herself she was revealing here, and even when his chin fell to his hand, he did not lift his focus from the stage. He supposed it was, in some sense of the word, lovely, or perhaps beautiful, but he thought it impractical. Look at how vulnerable it made her to what was around her, after all—her eyes were even shut. It was little wonder she had not trusted an audience before. It seemed that to perform in this way was to give too much and take nothing at all, save perhaps attention.

Most impractical, indeed.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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“It’s too late to regret it now. Reality will just harshly move forward."





“I admire your strength." Haruka had been so caught up in her thoughts, she had nearly forgotten about Zenith standing there, most likely watching her. There was a pause before he continued speaking to her. “Remember what you told me this day, this will endure you for the nights to come." He turned his eyes from her and looked towards the trees, he seemed to be sad about something, which was strange, since he didn't even show it on his facade. Haru slightly feared what would come next, because she knew he would tell her what she most likely didn't want to hear, he would tell her about Vampires. Haruka wasn't sure if she wanted to know about Vampires, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be to involved with them, but she felt safer with Zenith around her, like she didn't have to be scared about any monsters trying to bring her harm. It was a horrible thought, but the only reason she could have felt safe like that, was because one of those very monsters seemed to be protective of humans, on a level.

"Vampires. Creatures who feed on the blood of humans. They do exist." She looked away from him and stared down at the ground. She was trying to process all of this, she needed to get a grip on things if she was going to understand any of what he was saying. "The Night Class are filled with them who have agreed on the treaty to co-exist with the humans." Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as a passing breeze swept her hair around her form, making some of it brush her face. Zenith was in the Night Class, so of course he was a Vampire... "A prefect ensures the protection of the Day Class from the Night Class." Haru wanted to laugh, how could a prefect protect the Day Class from Vampires, when she was a Vampire herself? She looked back up towards Zenith to see him already staring at her, his face void of emotions, like always. "So, this will be the last time you are to be alone with me or perhaps, it would be better as our last conversation."

Haruka's breath caught in her throat and she stared at him. She should have seen this coming, the department of their last conversation. How strange...She had just learned that their were, in fact Monsters that lurked in the dark, and now the very person who she had chosen to trust, to feel safe with, was going to leave. Like all the others.. She should have expected as much, no one ever stuck around very long. He broke the silence when she didn't respond. "Stay away from me, Ms. Yamazaki." She watched as she stepped back, away from her, as if she were the Vampire.

He called me Ms. Yamazaki...my mother and fathers last name..I...

"I am the most dangerous of all vampires." Zenith pointed towards himself. "I can and will only bring darkness." He then allowed his hand to drop back to his side and looked away once more towards the trees. He thought he brought darkness? Didn't he know she had already scummed to darkness so long ago? When she had chosen to give up hope on her parents returning for her, and ever being somewhere she could be loved, and cared for. That's why she had gone away to this school, to cut herself off from love and friendship. Haruka was used to darkness, she always would be. "With the knowledge of the night, stay in the light."

I really...

He looked at her once more, but she hadn't stayed as relaxed as she had been a few minuet's ago, her body had tensed as the same usual empty looked entered her eyes, making her look nearly dead, other than the fact that she had color in her cheeks. "You do not belong in my world." He spoke such simple words, that could be taken in any way possible, and she wasn't sure how to take them, she had heard the words in a different version once before. It didn't help the point that it was still painful to hear. Haruka slowly walked towards him, pulled his jacket from her shoulders, and handed it back to him. "I do not belong in anyone's world, it is a simple fact that I learned to deal with long ago." She stared at his chest from a moment longer, not wanting to have to look at his emotionless facade once more, she didn't want to have that face stuck in her head like all of the others. "I don't want to..."She paused and looked down at the ground, before slowly taking as step away from him. "Goodbye.." She mumbled softly before turning around and walking away. She stared down at the ground as she walked, through she felt a little more.. empty. That's right..She was completely alone now, because she had been seen with Zenith, the Day Class would hate her forever, the Night Class were really monsters, Askua could no longer be trusted and Zenith...

Haruka let out a small breath, she was tired of holding them in, so she let the tears fall.

I really hate that name.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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|“We seem to be drifting into unknown places and unknown ways.”|

The jacket was returned to him as he took it without removing those empty golden eyes of his on Haruka's form. Her gestures and minuscule change in demeanor alerted him that he had probably caused discord for her. This will be her world now, prone to the relentless grasp of darkness. If she would be by his side, it would only continue to persist. Distance would be the best option for her. She must stay away because in the end, he did not want her to get involve in matters she should have been innocent of. The little things she knew would be enough to steer her away from his kind. This is what the pureblood wishes for. The human girl must not be tainted by their curse especially his. Nothing good will ever come out of it ever.

"Goodbye.." It was her soft-whispered word before she turned away from him to depart. Before that, she seemed about to say something else but went against it. Well, it was not in his manner to pry. So, he remained silent. Haruka slowly drifted away from him. He did not move and he did not utter a word as he watched her leave from his sight. It was then he took scent of something salty in the air. Could it possibly be? Tears? It could not be. This was for the good of things. So, he remained on his spot, unyielding, and still with that indifferent expression of his. "She seems so sad."

The familiar voice made him looked to his right shoulder where O was now perched. "I think she likes you, Master. Can't she be your friend?" He looked at O with a long silence accompanying it. A quite amount of time passed by before he did answer. "No. If she likes me, the more she must stay away." O looked at the pureblood with sadness and tad bit of confusion. The fox familiar truly wanted its creator to open up and enjoy the life here at Cross Academy like all the other students were doing. For once, O wanted Zenith to enjoy life as it is. to do what he wants just because he wanted to. Not for something, and not for someone.

"Why Master? I don't think she'll mind." The pureblood looked away from O's inquiring baby blue eyes before answering. "Death will be her only reward from me." This made the familiar recede from making the pureblood more social. The conversation about that matter ended at that note as Zenith took the opposite way from Haruka. This would be the best protection he could provide as she now knew the secrets of the night. Furthermore, he had decided to watch over the girl from the distance. It would be the logical thing to do. With that in mind, he left the area to go to some unknown location before the night arrives and his classes begin anew.

It was the last time Zenith saw Haruka on a personal matter. Weeks had gone by and to the pureblood, his life was the same routine as always. There was nothing out of sort from him. He disappeared like the wind and remained effortlessly a secret to everyone. Well, today would be the exemption. It is because the most-awaited and to others the most-dreaded school festival has finally come. There were a lo of booths of difference established on the large grounds of the Academy. The public has also arrived and join in with the festivity with such excitement and vigor. After all, it is not like they get the opportunity to enter Cross Academy and more importantly to finally see and meet, the ever popular Night Class.

Golden eyes roamed the grounds and saw the prefect also participating which was a good thing to note. She seemed happy about her booth and it was nice to say her in good spirits. Well, he could say the same thing about everyone. It seemed this event was not that bad of an idea after all. Although, he had yet to see the presence of the other pureblood present at the campus. However, he had a sense that his roommate was probably asked by the Headmaster to be an added security. There were a few occasions that the Headmaster asked him to persuade Tsukino to be a prefect. Unfortunately, Zenith refused to do such a thing. His reasons of refusal still a mystery. In a sense, the man should be around somewhere watching them all.

Somehow, he envies his roommate. At the same time, he was having doubts about participating in the festival on a personal level. There was nothing wrong generally about the event. The Night Class has decided to conduct a Cosplay Cafe with the theme of Japanese Mythical Creatures or commonly known as Youkai. It could range to Kappas, Tengus, Onis, and so on. The servers were mixed with males and females while others were stationed in the kitchen. Moreover, there is no menu as the food and drinks that would be served are suggested by the servers. It will be based upon their first impression of the customers.

Being a member of the Night Class, Zenith is also to cooperate with the planned booth. His position is a server which he has no personal problems about. To him, handing out orders from his own impression of a person is quite challenging and at the same time entertaining. But as a server, he is to wear a costume in reference to the theme. There was no problem as well in that matter. His assigned character was an inugami. Again, he has no qualms about it. He left all the designing to the others. Yet, he was not sure if it looks fine on him. The expression of the Night Class were much like the usual except they were staring at him for a longer duration.

Now the main problem of his cloudy regret, the rather over-crowded cafe and almost chaotic line of customers to have him as a server. He had no idea what would cause such a clamor for him. Oblivious as he is, he had no idea how regal and yet feminine he was looking at the moment. He now sports a knee-length silver-white hair which is a wig. Markings were also placed on him. He has a dark blue crescent moon on the center of his forehead, two magenta stripes on each side of his cheeks, matching magenta stripes on his wrists, and red markings on his eyelids. As an added effect, elvish ears and sharp fingernails that are better described as claws were also used. He wears a traditional white fancy kimono with some red hexagonal and flower markings. On top of his kimono, he also sports an armor that covers the entire mid-area of his body with a spiky protector that adorns the top of the armor plate and loops around his left shoulder. Wrapping around his right shoulder is a huge white piece of fur that resembles a boa.

His emotionless facade only made the female populace desire and fantasize a lot of things. After all, it only means he only shows emotions to the one who he cares and dotes on the most. Furthermore, one would know what he thinks of them due to the food they were served. It simply encourages them with their romantic connotations. However for the pureblood, he was simply doing what is asked of him. Although, he was quite thankful when the sound of violin permeated through the area. It brought a sense of calm unknowingly which the customers felt as well. As such, this was the beginning of the Cross Academy School Festival.

Unknown to all of them, a figure had entered the main gates of the school. A saccharine smile plastered on his lips. Looking at the multitude of people and the many booths offered to entertain all. "Now, what shall I do first?" He asked to no one in particular as this figure soon meshed with the crowd perfectly.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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#, as written by Azazel



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"Always enjoy the things you do, because if you don't...how can you say you it's something you love?"




"Enjoying the view?" Snow asked as he glanced down from his perch on the tree. He had been watching Asuka perform and wanted to keep an eye on his master and enjoy her performance from a safe distance. After all, the presence of an Owl might raise questions and not only that, he was a cute owl so he might have diverted their attention from Asuka. He inwardly chuckled at that thought. He wouldn't have minded. Not at all. "I didn't peg you for one to take up a responsibility as a prefect. Tell me, did he set you up for that?" he stated more than questioned in an amused tone. He was quite curious today and he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by. Plus, he had an inkling that he needed to tell this person something. What it was, Snow had yet to figure out.

When the performance ended, Asuka opened her eyes, retaining the jade color they were, and bowed for her group. She had unknowingly grabbed more people from nearby to watch her. She could feel the heat rush to her face. She wasn't quite used to the attention, and to have shown something so intimate to her, it was rather embarrassing. She could hear Snow laughing at her as her face began to burn a deep red. She was about to leave the stage when a voice in the back echoed out an encore. She froze a bit. An Encore? But...that was the only song she had for the performance. If she repeated it, would that keep their interest long enough to continue pouring in for her food as well?

You did have that one other song you know. You do not have to perform with it, just play it, she heard Snow. She sighed and smiled, walking back to the center of the stage and took a deep breath. It was a good thing that the music she needed for this particular song was on the same CD as the first one. She shuffled through the music, trying to find the right one and smiled when she did. Placing the violin back underneath her chin, she began to play the song she had first played when she began learning. With the performance finished, she took a final bow to her audience and waved at them. She could hear the clapping still in her ears as the crowd began to disperse a bit.

"It seems you are doing as I told you. I am glad you are enjoying yourself Imouto-chan," Hayate spoke as he approached Asuka's booth. "It seems that things are going rather smoothly for the mean time. You should thank the headmaster for that. He has your position covered by another since he said you were participating. I see this is also the first time you've done anything other than your prefect duties," he stated with a warm smile. It was true, ever since she joined the academy, all she ever did was her duty as a prefect. Other than that, most of the time she spent was either studying for her classes so she didn't fall behind, or playing her violin. At least today she could play the part of a normal student.

"I didn't think I would have received so many people. It was nice, I actually enjoyed performing, but I don't think I will be doing this again," she replied as she laughed nervously. It was nerve wrecking performing in public. Sure she could be intimidating, a friend, anything else, but a live performer? It was something she hardly thought about and it was something that embarrassed her greatly. Perhaps she had stage fright? She could almost hear the laughter from everyone if they knew. Prefect Fujiwara, afraid of the stage. She chuckled to herself at the thought as Hayate stood from his spot.

"Regardless, at least you enjoyed yourself," he stated before walking away. Asuka watched him mingle in with the crowd before she smiled after him and playfully stuck her tongue out. He was such a worry wart, but she still loved him nonetheless. She pulled the pink apron back over her outfit and began to serve the food to the people who remained. When the crowd dispersed, she began putting things away. She wasn't going to perform any more and she had no reason to keep her booth up. As such, she was unaware of Yuki's presence as he sat in front of her stall, his tail twitching ever so slightly. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of the last few weeks events. She hadn't seen Haruka yet, and she wasn't sure if the girl still retained her memories or not. And if she did, could she forgive Asuka for what she had did?

She wouldn't blame the girl if she didn't. After all, Asuka hadn't slept in their shared bedroom, instead opting to share Hayate's until she could find the courage to apologize properly. If she had the ability of the others, the ability to erase memories, she would have did it the moment she let go of her neck. Since that night, her hunger hadn't been as annoying as it was the past few years. She glanced around and noticed a rather large line pertaining to a certain cafe stall. She almost laughed at the reason why, because lo and behold, there stood Zenith in a rather peculiar outfit. She had to admit, it created a rather strange allure to the pure-blood, but she merely shook her head from those thoughts. It was hard enough keeping her distance from the rose-scented blood and she didn't need other thoughts plaguing her mind.

That's because they belong on someone else, she frowned at Snow's words as he laughed at her. That wasn't true. Her thoughts didn't belong to anyone...well, perhaps her brother and Snow, but that was it. Who could they possibly belong to? She shrugged her shoulders as she put away the dishes as she tried to wash the ones that were still left behind. There was still enough food left for at least two people, and she set it aside. Maybe she'd give the other one to Hayate if he came back and they could have a late dinner. Unless a last customer came and ordered it, which she would have no qualms about giving it to someone. After all, she was there to bring in revenue for the school.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino
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#, as written by Ion


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“That scent on the air… I recognize it, don’t I?”



“I don’t really enjoy anything,” Sora told the owl bluntly. “But yeah, I find altitude to my liking, and it’s not a bad thing to be able to see so much.” He diverted his attention from Fujiwara as the second song started up, readjusting the lens of his focus so that he was once again observing the general flow of events and no one thing in particular. The Night Class’s booth-stall-whatever seemed to be popular, though that was hardly surprising. Seriously, was everyone at this school a fetishist? He knew it was a pretty common trait in vampires, raised to value a very, very small number of personal traits over all others, but he would have expected the tastes of humans to diverge a bit more, since they were all so different. Then again, maybe the ones here were just as bad as the vampires, who knew? Wasn’t any of his concern anyway.

He shook his head, though, at the next inquiry. “I’m no prefect. This is just temporary, for the festival,” he rolled his eyes upon the last word. What were they celebrating, anyway? The fact that vampires were pretty and humans were dense? That was really all he saw on display, anyway. “Idiot told me it was either this or that,” he said, pointing down at the booth occupied by his unfortunately-mobbed roommate and far too many other people. “And there’s no way I was gonna let someone dress me up like an okami or a neko or some shit.” He snorted derisively. He’d probably have preferred to be an oni or something, but as he seldom acknowledged, he too was a vampire, and thus he too was sadly quite pretty, though perhaps in the most masculine sense of the word.

He would have made a pretty good tengu, maybe, halfshifted, with the patterns of feathers tracing over his skin and in his hair, wings sprouted from his shoulderblades. But that would have been giving away the grand old secret, and he’d prefer not to be expelled just yet.

“You know,” he remarked to the bird, “I see you more often than my own familiar these days. Easily bored or something?” It may have been a bit hard to tell, but Sora really didn’t sound like he minded this fact, he was simply observing it. Speaking of which… he made a quick scan of the crowd, sharp eyes picking out the shape of a small black kitten with huge green eyes just then hopping up onto the table presently occupied by what remained of Fujiwara’s food, sniffing at the wrapped plates and turning her head upwards to fix the prefect with her best wibbly kitten-eyes. Oh, for the love of… you’re a shameless bitch, Midori. She’s probably saving that for someone more important than you,” he thought to her.

Like who? Midori replied slyly. I know of no such person, master.

He rolled his eyes with a huff, but upon the following inhale, froze, stiffening and inhaling deeply. Something in the crowd’s makeup had shifted. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what, but something there didn’t belong, in a way that triggered the shadow of a memory. Sora’s mouth dropped into a scowl, and through their mental link, he felt Midori’s inquiry. Stay down there, he said to her. Something’s wrong. He drew in another breath, just confirming that something new, distinct, had entered the milieu of smells produced by this festival, and curse it, he’d be able to track it so much more easily if all these people weren’t in the same damn space.

“Something’s come,” he said aloud to Snow, and without further warning, launched himself from the tree, landing in a small puff of blossom petals at the bottom. He wasn’t too far away from the Night Class’s booth, so he went there first. Not where the scent was coming from, if the way it was weaker here was anything to go by. Then again, vampires generally smelled more strongly than humans did.

As it turned out, he found himself in proximity of Rosenkreuz on his way, and stopped for a moment. Were it another time, he might have commented on the vaguely-outlandish way the guy was dressed, but then again, he was only doing it to participate, probably. Besides, there were more urgent matters on his mind. Making eye contact with the other pure-blood, he spared few words as ever. “Something smell off to you?” he asked in a low voice, though it did not stop someone nearby from picking up on it.

“Only thing that smells funny here is you, Kara,” someone replied, but for once, Sora didn’t even spare the energy required for a glare or a waspish retort. Such people weren’t even worth the air they breathed, and obviously, they were too weak-nosed to sense what he did, anyhow. Normally, a strange odor at an event like this would not have caused any particular reaction from him, but… something about this one was familiar, in a way that he did not like, and he wasn’t one to let such things go.

Midori, meanwhile, had picked up on it as well, as well as the urgency to her master’s usual calm tones. So she, in her miniaturized kitten form, stayed close to Asuka, putting her face in the prefect’s hand and walking beneath it as cats often do, though her eyes were warily watching for anything out of the ordinary.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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“It's shocking the things we call love.”





Haruka was getting strange looks, of course she couldn't blame them, she never wore anything other than her normal clothes, in fact she hadn't even been see in her school uniform before, so for the students to see her dressed up in a dress, leggings and heels, was the last thing they had expected, but why not? This was a festival, she could look nice if she wanted, it's not like she had the chance to wear the dress very often anyway. The dress wasn't very fancy, but it was still nice, it went a little past her mid-thigh and hung low on her shoulders, leaving them nearly bear along with her now healed neck. She also wore white leggings and black heels with ribbons that hugged her ankles. All of these colors contrasted nicely with her bright red hair that lay perfect straight down her back and resembled flames, her hair seemed redder than usual.

Over the last few weeks, after her last conversation with Zenith, Haruka had closed herself off from the rest of the school, she no longer slept in her shared dorm with Asuka, because she couldn't bring herself to speak to the girl yet. So she slept in the library at night in one of the sections that no one ever payed any heed to. In the day she would go to classes, but not speak with anyone, after the Day Class hadn't seen her interact with Zenith for about a week, they stopped bothering her, and let Haru to herself. The strange new silence she was granted with was peaceful, but so lonely, she had no reason to speak with one through, so she didn't try. She did try to stay away from all of the Night Class as much as possible, just as Zenith told her to.

At the moment, through, she couldn't help being near people, in reality she should have just stayed away from the whole event, it would have saved her a lot of trouble, but she wanted to see how it would turn out. Haruka had never been to a festival before. As she walked through the crowds, she kept a distance from them all, each time someone moved closer to her, she would move further from them, it was like a strange little dance for her, but she got through the crowds and to each booth she wished to visit without having to come into contact with anyone. She let out a small breath while re-entering the crowds, she had been to a few interesting booths, some with painting, other with food, her mind was else where through, she was getting distracted and more careless and she weaved through she crowds, the Day Class staring at her as she passed. Her hair made her stand out greatly, with it's bright red strands, everyone else had chosen to weak darker or lighter colors, so in the crowd she was like a beacon, Haru didn't like being a beacon, she would rather blend in and now draw attention to herself, especially since all of the Day Class students were...

She shook her head to push away the thoughts as she stumbled over her own feet. In her moment of weakness, one of the Day Class boys pushed past her, making her stumble even more so and run right into someone chest. Haruka's face flushed and she mumbled a small apology and quickly sticking her foot out to trip the boy that had pushed past her. A small grin graced her face as the boy stumbled and nearly tripped, but he didn't fall, much to her displeasure. If she had known the boy she would have smacked him for acting so rudely while walking in a crowd of people, if he had hurt one of the Night Class students...her grin flattered and she quickly jumped back into the crowd. I hope everything goes over smoothly tonight.. Haru bit her lip and looked down at her feet as she started to move through the crowd once more.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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|“The pain of parting is also the pleasure of meeting for the first time.”|

There was nothing better than to simply watch the events unfold before one's eyes. More so, if the things happening are a personal favorite of the audience. Black eyes that were darker than the night watched the crowd and the amicable students of the prestigious Cross Academy. There was amusement within those eyes that flickered ever so slightly. This was all due to the observation of a rather sophisticated gentleman wearing an attire reminiscent of the Victorian Age. Hair properly combed to a tee with a pair of glass nuzzled perfectly at the bridge of his nose. The man screamed of eloquence and an image of a true gentleman at every angle. Well, it also helps that he is quite easy on the eyes. Actually, he was more than that for he was rather dashing in every sense.

Taking a sip from the wine glass which contained a vintage of Domaine de la Romanee. Well, it is something one could expect from the cafe of the Night Class. For that, he would give them due credit. There was also a great deal of entertainment before his eyes. One prime example was the array of servers donning costumes of ferocious youkais as they say. Well, his eyes were on a particular best-seller. The inugami who had the most stoic of expressions took his interest. Then, there was also a violinist not that far from his location. He could hear some skill in such playing but what intrigued him more was the female who held the violin. A truly interesting combination if he could say more but perhaps, he should not speak any further. In any case, a fleeting smile decorated his lips before he took a sip once more.

Then, an interesting conversation drifted to his ears. A man who was totally opposite of the inugami appeared donning an attire meant to disappear in the darkness. There was a spark of dislike flashed within the eyes of the spectator. However, it was only momentarily before he receded to his casual demeanor. Listening without much of an interference as the sparse conversation continued on.

“Something smell off to you?” Golden eyes gazed at Tsukino who prompted him with a question. Truth be told, Zenith had become aware of the rather ominous scent lingering so precariously at the edge of reason and doubt for quite some time. However, his participation to the cafe had prevented him to do so. As such, he had tasked O to investigate on his behalf where the source of this ambiguous feeling was. As he had deduced, the other pureblood had sensed such thing. He did not want to cause unnecessary worry to everyone with his personal suspicions. So, it was good that this was also noticed by Tsukino. He had someone to share this foreboding tension in the air.

"Yes." This was Zenith one-word response but not before looking at the one who offered a sarcastic response to someone being not asked directly. "Refrain speaking useless things to Mr. Tsukino." The statement was delivered in his usual monotone voice. His expression did not change even one bit. Those eyes of his remained impenetrable of his true feelings. However, it was enough to straighten the Night Class who bowed in understanding and continued with their work promptly. He then returned his attention to his roommate when something brushed on his form and when he looked what met him were...

Placing the empty wine glass on top of his table, the pristine gentleman paid his bills and then stood from his seat. It was time for him to move on or may be to make some new acquaintances. Walking passed the two contrasting boys who in his opinion were similar and also an irony to their perceived status, he incidentally brushed his shoulder against the inugami and the reason could be the gathering crowd. "Pardon me." Offering a small smile, his eyes of quiescent dark met those golden yellows much like the sun. He then casually glanced to the black avenger in his personal description. Well, he did interrupt a conversation as it may seemed. He also offered a small smile and then gave the two a simple nod. "Might I say, this is indeed a wonderful school festival." After stating that with such honest impression, he then left the two.

It was quick for him to disappear from sight as the crowd was quite large to begin with. In addition, it was not like he could easily be spotted for other families of the Night Class students were also present with their formal attires. He was not out of place at all. Actually, he fitted quite well. He walked along the provided pathway and looked at the other booths with a rather dejected look. Although, he had finally found another he wanted to visit after the Cafe. It was the stall of the violinist. He approached the maiden with such emerald eyes. It was such a lovely color and suited her, although, he wondered what other hues could complement her.

"Excuse me, Miss lovely green eyes. May I have two?" This was his greeting with such a small smile on his lips. There was nothing odd about him and somehow the way he expressed himself was completely normal for someone like him. She waited for the girl to answer his query and when she did. He happily paid for the two orders he had spoken about. There was only one matter, he paid more. When this was questioned, he simply shook his head. "I have been seating at the cafe for some time and heard your playing. It was abundantly refreshing." Taking his purchase, he gave a small bow. "When, we play music. We inadvertently reveal ourselves to others. I applaud you for such courage, Miss lovely green eyes." With that said, he turned his back from her and soon disappeared through the sea of people.

Looking at the contents of what he bought, he had a rather puzzled look. "Now, where is the person I could share this with?" He continued walking without much minding anything else. The only time he lifted his head was when he spotted something in the midst that lightened him up. His vision caught a certain female with flaming red hair. How quaint, it was. As such, he could not stop himself to smile ever so warmly at the sight. He then stopped before the girl who without doubt bumped into him judging by the rush of people from every direction. Actually, he was rather surprised that there was no stampede yet. It would be interesting to witness such if it ever does happen. Dissolving those thoughts, he focused his attention now to the girl before him.

As expected, the red-hair girl had lost her balance by such collision. He simply caught the girl with a delicate support by placing his hand on her back and his hand holding hers. It was as if they were dancing to a noiseless tune. Those eyes of abyss black twinkled with concern. "Please excuse me, Miss." Helping her to stand properly, he removed his hand from her back but did not released her hand. "I hope you are not hurt, I would not like to see such a beauty marred." His words were expressed eloquently and with a sincere gesture. Without reprieve, he raised the hand he held and pressed his lips on her knuckles ever so gently. "Let me introduce myself, Hughes Jackson at your service." It was then his eyes hidden so alluringly behind those clear glasses of his looked at her with interest and his lips had a smile so kind. "If it would not be too much, may I know your name?"

On the other hand, Zenith watched the gentleman who walked away from him with an expected apology and then a praise for the event. There was nothing odd about the man even the way he carried himself. So, there was nothing to be alerted off. Actually, the man was rather normal in every angle one looks at. Yet, he could not help but be bothered by those eyes. There was nothing unique about it as Tsukino had the same abyss black eyes. So, there was nothing logically sound of being bothered by it. Still, he could not remove the eerie tension that ever so little surrounded him for the moment. Looking at Tsukino, he informed the pureblood that he would be excusing himself. "I will excuse myself, Mr. Tsukino." With that said, he simply bowed to his current customer and soon mixed himself to the crowd.

The Rosenkreuz pureblood found it peculiar for him to have a hard time to detect the whereabouts of one person. This was highly impossible to do so. He wandered around the crowd. The people occasionally gathered around him which made his search rather difficult. There were also a lot amount of flashes going on about. Soon, he found the target of his search. There the man was kissing the hand of Haruka with a pleasant smile on his face. There was nothing wrong about it. However, he soon found himself holding the hand of the gentleman which held the girl's hand. His expression remained a void and his eyes did not reveal anything. However, the way he removed the man's hand on Haruka's hand and held it firmly to a point of a threat caused a sudden query. Soon enough, a crowd gathered around them to watch the next events about to unfold.

Somewhere else on the grounds, O was looking around for something completely off. However, it was hard to do so when everything about the school festival in its opinion was off. Still, it must be done with the best of the ability. So, the search continued on while avoiding the eyes of the humans who would not understand the meaning of O's existence. It was then someone appeared before O. The fox familiar immediately stayed still much like a stuffed toy. After all, it would not be good to be caught red-handed by a human. Yet, this scent was familiar. It was the scent that alerted his master. O took a chance by looking above him and what met its baby blue eyes were black eyes which soon changed into crimson ones. "This is a nice event. But, it still needs something." O's eyes widened as the full implication of what this person said reached the familiar. "Master..." This was all the familiar could say as the unexpected did happen.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Asuka Fujiwara Character Portrait: Zenith Rosenkreuz Character Portrait: Sora Tsukino Character Portrait: Haruka Yamazaki
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#, as written by Azazel



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"Fate has a funny way of telling you, you need someone. But the question still remains, who do I need?"




Snow listened to every word the pure-blood stated. He wanted to laugh at first, but he restrained himself. It was interesting to see how this vampire saw life. He had the pleasure of speaking to the few Night Class students Asuka was on good terms with, and each one had their own opinion, but it always seemed the same. They were just decorated with pretty words really. He ruffled his feathers, as if he was trying to appear bigger at Sora's last comment. With it, he allowed himself to laugh.

"I'm an owl. How many domesticated owl's do you see around this school? Besides, Asuka doesn't need me at the moment and, correction, I was here first. You merely happened to pick the tree I was sitting in. Plus, we like you," he retorted nonchalantly, putting emphasis on the we in the process. Whatever Sora's response would have been, it was quickly drowned by an all to familiar scent. His eyes immediately went towards Asuka's stall, however; the busy-boddy prefect was just cleaning her stall. His eyes went back to Sora who had mentioned something had came. If he could have raised a questioning eyebrow, Snow would have. The most peculiar scent was drifting around, and he found it odd that Asuka hadn't picked up on it yet. Then, he saw him, that damn cat he hated so much. Snow would have taken off after it when another cat made it's prescence known. It was a small black cat, the complete opposite of Yuki, and it seemed to have chased the damn cat away.

"Oh? Are you hungry?" Asuka stated when she saw the black cat jump upon her stall table. She offered the cat a bright smile before turning to her plates. She frowned slightly. She was going to give one of the plates to her cousin, but she couldn't resist those eyes the cat gave her. And just like that, the smile returned to her face as she glanced at the dishes she had prepared. She wanted to save them for someone, and then she formed an idea. "You are very lucky you are cute you know. Otherwise I wouldn't be doing what I am about to do," she stated as she winked at the cat. She pulled away from the stall and quickly left to another. When she returned, she had another fish and grabbed one of her clean knives, wiping the water from it with a clean rag and began to cut it into smaller pieces for the cat. When she finished, she set the small pieces inside a soup bowl and placed it in front of the cat.

"You seem so familiar," she stated like a casual statement, allowing the cat to rub against her hand. She rubbed the cat's back before scratching behind it's ears. There was honesty in that statement as the cat before her seemed to release a very familiar fragrance that was Appealing. Asuka frowned at the sound of Snow's comment and glanced up, watching the white owl land on one of the podiums of her stall. Her attention was grabbed when a voice intterupted her thoughts. She turned towards the source and found a rather peculiar man standing at her stall. He had ordered her last two dishes, which she happily obliged.

She could feel a blush forming on her face when he complimented her eyes, or seemed to be anyway and she thanked the man as he left. He had overpaid for his dishes but refused her to give him his change when she objected. She frowned slightly as he disappeared into the crowd. A little too easily might I say, she glanced up at Snow as he addressed her current thought. She glanced down at the black cat at the stall and continued to pet it affectionately.

"Maybe I should be a cat person," she spoke to no one in particular, causing Snow to ruffle his feathers before flying off. He wanted to keep an eye on this stranger. Although nothing seemed particularly wrong with the man, there was something that drove Snow to be curious, however; he was stopped mid-flight at a rather peculiar scene. The white-haired pure-blood seemed to be removing the man's, who had just been at Asuka's stall, hand from Haruka's grasp. The way he had removed it caused Asuka to frown though since it had been rather harsh and almost seemed threatening. This did not bode well for Asuka who peered down at the black cat.

"I guess time to play prefect is in ordinance," she stated in a disappointed tone. "Do you want to come along little one?" she stated as she scooped the black cat up into her arms and nestled her so that they were both comfortable in the awkward position. She had hoped that the festival would have smoothed over and allowed her a sentimence of peace, but the odd thing was that Hayate had not been seen since earlier. Perhaps this was just part of the festival? No, there is something much more, Snow stated through his thoughts as Asuka glanced at the scene before her. She didn't want to interrupt, so for now, she merely kept her distance to see what exactly was going on.