Kasmir Rainier's Story

The blaring of car lights, the spectacle of city lights and the odd over-the-top broad-way lights make up this nightmare-fueled metropolis. Empire Death Building, Deaths Square and the Death Statue of Liberty, while a hot vacation spot for most travelers, it is the home to the potentially talented Meisters and Weapons of the Death Weapon Meister Academy.

The DWMA, while possessing an outside faculty and museum for visitors has far more. Deep inside the confounds of this 20 story tall behemoth of a privately funded high-school is dormitories, private cafes, and all forms of entertainment. While students are allowed to leave the premise at any time, the long-time traditions of battle festivals and exhibition battles have since come to past, at least in populated areas that aren't privately owned by Lord Death himself. As far as students are concerned, when they leave those doors for errands and such, they are citizens of New Death City, nothing more. The dubbing of Meister and Weapon does not exist; or rather it cannot due to light government jurisdictions and outcry from the near minority that can't stand these super-powered freaks running about like it is recess. While revealing your power doesn't garner too severe a punishment, it is punishable by Death.

While the energy of this Halloween themed City still retains its unique liveliness and spirit, the looming threat still haunts the mind of every Meister and Weapon, including Lord Death himself. The 6:00 PM party, a group of stray witches and rouges have recently made their presence known. Hacking a screen in Deaths Square and announcing themselves as the 6:00 PM party in a cryptic and haunting message. While the normal citizens saw this as a poorly timed April Fools joke, Lord Death knows for certain that they have made their move and mobilized his students to combat this threat.

"Lord Death has requested these specific students to report to him to his room." A cheery female voice shot through the monotony, the tapping of the mic followed by an excessively clear tone. "Kasmir Rainer, Lyle Daton, Cyrille Dior, Ash McDonnel, Cleo Galreyes and Socie Wilde." The girl repeated the names shortly before reverting to the regularly scheduled programming: Time, date and weather that nobody asked for and music that belonged in an elevator somewhere.

The laughing of the harsh sun could be heard ringing through everyone's ears, laughing at everyone's struggles and with everyone's doubts

---

Sitting atop a barstool at the kitchen, Lyle Daton calmly leafed through the newspaper, eyeing over the stock movements from the past few days. Grimacing slightly, he gave a soft grunt of discontent, crumpling up the pages and tossing them across the room in the vague direction of the bin, bouncing off the wall and joining the pile of other papers on the floor. Once again, it seemed he’d backed the wrong horse - And although he hadn’t actually began buying and moving stocks, it was disappointing to imagine how poorly he would’ve done for the third week in a row. Slumping back in his seat, he placed his feet up on the counter, sipping his coffee for a moment before sticking out his leg to kick his partner sitting across from him. “Hey, you done on the report? I’ve got places to go Kass, ladies to see. Surely you can remember what happened without me.”

Kasmir looked up from his paperwork, a click of his tongue denoting that he’d heard Lyle. “You know, if you put half the attention into our work that you did with stocks, or women, we’d be a hell of a lot wealthier…” Noting Kasmir’s comment, Lyle simply shrugged, and it said something about their relationship that Kasmir somehow knew he had. Our latest mission was such a drag... Kasmir thought to himself. He wasn’t fond of toppling supermodel empires. Even if the model in question had been delving into the carnality that landed her on Death’s List. Lyle was a good partner, just a little out there when it came to certain things in life. He and Kasmir had come from almost entirely different worlds, the main thing making them compatible was their desire to be, well… successful. Weapons and Meisters could make good money, especially those in E.A.T. class, and Lyle and Kasmir were no exceptions. A majority of their living expenses came out of money their Quests garnered.

“Since neither of us are especially keen on actual day jobs, working for Lord Death is our best source of income. So if you don’t mind starving this week, sure I can be done with the report. Otherwise? I’d prefer it if we finished this thing properly so we can eke out whatever extra funding they’re willing to throw at us.” It was a talk they had a lot, Lyle’s head was always in the clouds, lost in the riches he’d once known. “Besides, you were a lot more involved in this mission than me, I need your point of view, or we’re going to miss out on a LOT of the reward for this one.” Kasmir buried his face in his hands, elbows on the table, as he lamented the progress he was making. The report was far from complete, and he asked Lyle yet again, “Okay…. So, let’s go over this, slowly… How did you get into her private penthouse? I literally turned around and you were gone.” Suffice it to say, Lyle had… a way with women.

They’d arrived at a five-star hotel, where the model was supposedly staying, but getting access to her room seemed to be too much. Kasmir was about to suggest sneaking up to the room from the outside, when Lyle suddenly disappeared.

With another blasé shrug Lyle sunk back towards his seat. “I couldn’t tell you really. You’d have to ask the ladies what they see in me. Perhaps it’s the good looks, the sweet words or just my aura of charm.” Running a hand through his hair, the weapon looked over to a mirror to confirm he was as fabulous as he thought. He was. “Like my father said, you see an opportunity, you seize it. I approached her as a fan, complimented her on her… ‘Work’, and asked if she’d like to do business.” Looking out to the window, it seemed Lyle was fond of the scenery. Either that or imagining something else. “After that, she suggested we take the discussion inside. We were going to do it over the table, but it was a bit messy, so she suggested we take it to the bedroom.” Leaning his head into his hand, Lyle looked up to Kass with a lazy eye. ”So, does that fill you in what we got up to? Unlike you, I wasn’t about to waste time.”

Somehow, I’m not surprised… Kasmir, relaxed in his chair, stretching out and throwing both hands behind his head in a show of giving up. He was a little tired, the report he was currently filing was about a Quest of almost twenty-four hours of continuous activity, and he wanted to get the report done before retiring for the day. “Time is money, it’s wasted time if you aren’t getting paid for it. Do you think Lord Death would pay us for time in the bedroom? There’s gotta be a way to spin it to make it sound like you were hard at work. Wait…” Kasmir thought about it for a moment longer than he would’ve liked to. “Gross.”

“What are you thinking Kassy? We talked about my modelling work, experience. With looks this good she wanted to sign me on the spot.” Standing up from his seat, Lyle struck one of his signature poses, resting his arms back to lean on the couch while giving his head the slightest of cocks to show off the shape of his devilish face. “I know, I know. I continue to amaze and astonish, don’t admonish.” Standing back up straight, Lyle strode over to grab his jacket and pull it on. “If you’d rather skip the pleasantries, I was trying to get information out of her regarding her activities while buying time for you to make your way in. Keeping her... Distracted. After that, you turned up, shoved me into her, made her scream, and hightailed it out of there one soul richer.” Undoing the latch on the door, Lyle began to open it up. “So, now you know my side of things. You can finish the rest from there, right my man?” Not entirely waiting for a reply, Lyle went to close the door and head out, feeling his contribution was done.

“She was barely human, Lyle. The girl was eating people. It’s nothing like eating corrupt souls on Death’s List… Some of her victims were kids...” Of course, Lyle was already heading out the door, probably ignoring Kasmir’s words. Not that Kasmir entirely minded, sometimes he just needed to talk, to vent, regardless of if his partner was listening. When they’d been separated, Kasmir had seen the young actor who would’ve been the model’s latest victim. That girl was barely Lyle’s age, and had grown up in a normal world, one that wasn’t rife with monsters and demon weapons. Had Lyle and him arrived only a few hours later, she’d have been eaten. Maybe the last mission weighed on Kasmir’s soul a little heavily.

"Lord Death has requested these specific students to report to him to his room." There it was again, the too cheery voice of whoever they’d hired to work the P.A. "Kasmir Rainer, Lyle Daton, Cyrille Dior, Ash McDonnel, Cleo Galreyes and Socie Wilde."

Kasmir dropped his pen, it clattered to the floor with a dull finality. ”Well, I think that does it then.” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose with a free hand, if it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The Meister stood up, sending the chair he had been sitting on soaring into the wall with a forceful kick, where it broke into more than a few pieces. ”Of course! I literally can’t even sleep! If I’m not working a day-job, I’m in class. If I’m not in class, I’m on call by freaking Death himself!” Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, but Kasmir started to laugh, a little maniacally. ”Of course! Hahaha, of course…! Lyle… Let’s go. They’ll have to be satisfied with a mostly complete report.” The burst of manic energy had left as soon as it had started, and he definitely was craving a cup of coffee.

Poking his head back through the door, Lyle kicked it open, leaning on the frame. “Worry less, smile more Kass. Just play it cool, no one really cares so long as the job’s done anyway.” Appraising his meister, Lyle looked on a little disdainfully. “Seriously though, you look like a wreck. Maybe try slacking less and you’d get some sleep.” Waving his arm dismissively, Lyle turned to lead the way, heading off towards Death’s office.

Kasmir followed Lyle, mumbling under his breath. ”Hard to get sleep when I’m the single parent of an eighteen year old halberd.” It was mostly a joke, though Kasmir did envy how carefree Lyle could be. He shoved his hands in his pockets, dallying slightly behind while Lyle led the way. Making their approach, Lyle caught the snippets of conversation, revealing that they were likely the last of the trio to arrive, overhearing a few odd words from Cleo. ”...Actually, she wasn’t the monkey, she just accidentally killed it twenty or so times…”

The door creaked open, followed by an eccentric greeting by the great Lord Death. While the greeting was unorthodox for the principal and key figure for DWMA and New Death City respectively, it did well to quell the flames that a certain hot-headed student had done well to fan. His presence alone was enough to kindle complete silence instead. Lord Death waiting a few modest moments before moving aside and allowing the students through the doorway.

Embellished with red velvet, the Death Room has definitely taken a more modern twist, taking inspiration from standard CEO offices. Even with the dark colors, and dimly lit candles, the room assumes a more gothic and eerie liberty despite the pressure from his every-shifting inner circle to get with the times. Crimson carpeting and closed drapes, shelves with trinkets, trophies and stylistic alcoholic glass bottles, all leading to a desk more akin to a large brick, aged decorated wood with a large stack of papers resting on top. Behind the office chair that is neatly pushed into the desk is a large mirror, almost like an erratic slideshow, but showing different scenes every few seconds. The Old Death room, a few missing posters, the top 10 ranked pairs and other images which have most likely originated from an image search.

"Thanks for coming everyone! I hope all of you have finished your reports." His words were as upbeat and sanguine as ever, though the air was uncharacteristically dense, so heavy that you could cut through it with a blunt knife. He went to his desk to sit down, gesturing to black couches that formed a stiff U shape with their positioning. "I know it's a short notice..but..some pressing matters have come up." His voice seemed to ebb from spirited to mellow before the students could even get comfortable in their seats. "All of you are aware that, times have become rough on the establishment. I'm referring to the recent terrorist threats." He was silent, allowing head nods and murmurs of agreement.

"To ensure the safety of all the students at the DWMA..I've decided to form teams out of the E.A.T class, starting with you 6." His voice was clear, despite his goofy tone and attire. He had thought about this for days on end. To protect his students, he needs to send them closer to the fight. It's mad, isn't it?

Allowing for the words to settle in, he got up and tapped onto the large mirror. Revealing a stylised world map as the country of England seemed to glow with a bright blue. "I'm sending you all on a scouting mission to test the waters. There has been a report of ominous fog that has shrouded the area around Amesbury, Stonehenge. Missing person reports including a 2-star weapon from our own DWMA have crowded the news."

The mirror shut off, like a blown-out candle. "If there is danger, do not engage. You will report to me immediately and will be flown back so we can discuss further." His voice was stern in this aspect, shedding all of his bubbly tones that he previously exhibited. After clearing his throat, coughing into his over-sized fist. His mood reverted to normal. "So, I will give you all a few days to pack and prepare, have fun, see the sights, don't kill each other. That will be all!

With that, the doors opened, allowing anyone who had a pressing appointment or just wanted to leave a way to exit. Lord Death remained seated in his chair, available for questioning or complaints.

"A height quip? How primitive. My point still st-"

Saved by the bell, or rather, the creaking of an oversized door. There he was! Lord Death himself, dressed in a goofy suit and bowtie. Despite the mask he wore, Cyrille could feel the stern aura seeping through the 3 orifices. Chuckling to himself, he raised his hands as he was halted mid-lib. Following suit, he walked through the door aloofly. The quicker this trip to the principal's office resolves itself, the quicker he and Ash can get a late breakfast.

He didn't have time before-hand to notice the people who arrived before and after him, but Lord Death really did want to waste the time of some of the most talented students. Displayed on the scoreboard in the mirror with a ghostly blue with the names of the students who have since surpassed their peers by a large margin. Ranked #3 is the socialite and his over-worked father and ranked #6 is Big-Sis Cleo and her uncultured dominant sidekick. Ranked #4 is him and Ash, his name misspelled with only 1 L, but he didn't feel the need to make it public since he found it hilarious. Cyrille's sense of humor wasn't too refined.

The room always was out-of-place. Like an unwanted child, it seemed to be connected with staples and glue. Lord Death didn't get many jurisdictions regarding the architecture of the school. Quite frankly, Lord Death isn't the type to condone of a ranking system being paraded about but was most likely egged on by funders and council members who see it as encouragement.

Taking the farthest middle couch, he listened intently up to the part where they had to form teams. A bridled anger rose in Cyrille. While saving questions to the end, he repressed himself and his rage by biting into his finger. Blood trickling from his thumb and down his arm as he continued heeding Death's instructions and information. He had more than a few complaints, but he decided to save them for after the presentation.

As Lord Death spoke his last words, Cyrille waited for the other pairs to get close to the exit before parading over in a hurried and stormy fashion. Taking a deep breath and composing himself, he took a tissue from the desk and wrapped his bleeding finger as he spoke in a slow but passionate tone.

"When plucking students for this..ensemble, you were aware that I work terribly with others, correct?"

A look from those 3 blackened holes was more than enough of an explanation. An understanding of the situation seemed to cloud Cyrille's thoughts. While unwilling, he would comply. He knew better than to make more trouble for the Lord Death.

With a sigh, his tone subsided into a calmer pitch "Alright. Get my head out of my ass, I know." Throwing the tissue into the waste bin, he stomped off. He wasn't exactly thrilled of the prospect. Frankly, he felt entitled. He was doing this damn team a service with his presence alone.

---

September 10 | 2018, 3 days after the meeting in the DEATH ROOM
New York International Airport
65°

He hated flying. Death by vending machine was more probable than crashing, but bad service and bad seat partners have not made his airline experiences good memories.

Looking at his suitcase, filled to the brim with clothing that he could not bother wearing completely with too many buttons and tying involved. Even if there was an instruction manual, he'd probably throw it away. He shivered as frigid morning air found it's way under the menial cloth that was supposed to protect him from lower temperatures.

Cyrille and his partner were uncharacteristically premature. He did have them go early because he wanted it to be over as quickly as possible and hated thinking idly in the apartment. Every day of preparation was spent complaining into his pillow, angrily pacing around the room and making a meal out of his thumb with the number of times he bit it. While Cyrille never dismissed Death's reasoning, it didn't change the fact that he hated working with other team members. He could manage with another meister, but 6 people with defiant personalities would most definitely lead to the boat doing 360s with the amount of times it's going to get rocked.

Sighing in a hyperbolic fashion, he turned to his weapon. He uttered a word undecipherable due to morning breath before coughing into his bandaged up hand, speaking again after a short pause.

"What do you think?"

He was referring to the situation as a whole. While Cyrille never was fond of other's suggestions, he was at least curious of an opinion from his partner of 1 and a half years.

---

Death was finally desperate enough to utilize the unique skills his students possessed, Kasmir had feared the day might never come. Yet, here it was in all its glory. They were to set out in a few days after preparations had been fully made. This was the chance for sponsorship, recognition, glory. If this mission went well, there were certainly more to come, which would mean sooner or later someone would have to scout him and Lyle. Kasmir left immediately, with a huge smile on his face and a skip in his step.

---

September 7th, 2018, 1 Day after meeting in Death's Room.
Lyle and Kasmir's shared apartment.

Kasmir had finished packing almost immediately after the meeting, ready for the cold weather England would bring, and was lounging on the couch, reading a magazine about England. "Hey, Lyle do you think we should be training? This mission could be our ticket to the good life." The maid came by, dusting down the table that Kasmir's feet were currently resting on so he moved them and stood up. "It's just a scouting mission, Kas. Stop fretting."

Still, scouting mission or not, this was one of the first teams to form out of E.A.T. class since Kasmir had got to the Academy. It was definitely bound to make headlines with the rest of the class. "Hum," he casually tossed the magazine on the couch and headed for the fridge. He had splurged earlier in the day, to celebrate the occasion, but was too excited to really eat.

"Like, if someone else on the team messes up and we have to save them, that could look really good on us. Or, or, if the mission goes off perfectly, and we immediately find critical information. This is our path to success! No more part-time jobs, no more penny-pinching." Kasmir settled on an ice-pop, grabbing it out of the freezer and tossing the wrapper into the trash.

"I wouldn't mind having to save one of those cuties, but that's still a few days from now. Just try to calm down a bit Kass, get some rest before we leave. It's a long flight." Typical Lyle, always playing it cool, just hopefully not too cool. Kasmir bit down on the ice pop, enjoying the sea salt flavor while he pondered Lord Death's words.

"A 2-star weapon went missing... presumably died on this mission... All I'm saying is anything could happen." The maid smiled at Lyle, he winked at her, and she excused herself for the day.

---

September 10th, 2018, 3 days after the meeting in the DEATH ROOM
New York International Airport
65°

The weather was inclement and Kasmir was dressed in appropriately abundant clothing, including a longer variant of his usual jacket and a scarf. Every so often he could see his breath, but the cold was the last thing on his mind. "Four other people on this mission, Lyle the Academy is worried about something. Teams like this rarely get formed, and we were the first few chosen! Lyle, Lyle?"

Lyle didn't answer, a grey-haired girl had caught his attention, the partner of the red-headed Meister that would also be on the team. Cyrille, I think it was? And the girl is Ash. Which means Lyle is about to make a great first impression, invariably. Kasmir groaned, suddenly losing hope in the mission going smoothly, then he introduced himself. "Kasmir Rainier, Halberd-Meister. It's a pleasure to be working with you two." He bowed lightly, flourishing one hand in front of his chest as he did.

---

Well now, this was an interesting turn of events. This team exercise was the perfect excuse to chat up some of the lovely ladies at the academy and get more… ‘Comfortable’ with each other. Honestly, Lyle had no complaints with the arrangement. Well, perhaps some of the more lovely ladies could’ve been there, and you could replace Kasmir and Cyrille with some bodacious women, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. In fact, that saying could be used to describe how he felt about little Ash. Sure, she perhaps wasn’t as attractive as some of the other women, but her company, though a little odd, was quite pleasant. Perhaps that’s why Lyle abandoned Kasmir the moment they reached the ship, making his way over to speak with her.

“Ash. Seems we’ll be working together more closely. Aren’t you glad?” Ignoring the fact that the weapon was on her phone, Lyle leaned in over her chair, resting on the armrests and getting quite close to her face in order to ‘observe’ what she was up to. “I know I am. If we get some time, perhaps we should visit the sites together? I’m sure there’s some interesting things I could show you if given the time alone together…” Intentionally encroaching on her personal space, Lyle enjoyed Ash for the simple fact that she seemed unperturbed by his advances. For him, that was as good as saying she enjoyed his attention.

---

---

Cleo had been fairly surprised by Death’s edict. Forming a team of three pairs was a bit of a shock, especially given the success they all had separately. Was it so they’d start learning teamwork? Or was this mission dangerous enough to merit the three of them? It had to be the former, especially if they were only going to be scouting. Still… Cleo maintained a pleasant smile all the while, but in her mind, she was thinking over their new teammates. Ash was… Difficult. The few times Cleo had spoken with her she was met with sarcasm and derision; and her meister, Cyrille was just as antagonistic whenever they’d met. Though she tried her best to defuse the situation and take it in stride, Socie was usually more the target of such bait; and often bit into it too, meaning more work for Cleo trying to smooth things over. If the little meeting at the door was any indication, that could happen on a regular basis. Maybe because they were teammates now they’d be more respectful..? Maybe? Hopefully?

Then there was the other pair. Kasmir was alright, mostly; but when he was with Lyle the weapon seemed to rub off on him the wrong way. Cleo had previously had the unfortunate experience of attempting to wield Lyle, and the thought gave her an involuntary shudder. Yes he’d been charming, but at the same time, highly off-putting and inappropriate. Cleo was thankful Socie was with her, as otherwise he’d probably be trying to smooth talk her right now. Cleo’s weapon didn’t take crap from anyone, and so, Lyle often was on the receiving end of a punch or two. Come to think of it, how was Cleo ever going to get Socie to work with someone like that? It seemed that everyone annoyed her weapon on some level. The question was, was that the fault of Socie or the others? Either way, it was Cleo’s job to get them past it. Affirming that to herself, Cleo was eager for the mission. She was going to make this work!

---

Packing was going well. Well, for Cleo at least. Having gathered the essentials and a few choice personal items, Cleo was packed and ready to go on time. The same could not be said for her partner. Socie was more a last-minute kind of person, particularly when she was too prideful to let Cleo know she needed help working out what to pack. A frantic rush later however, and the duo were sprinting not to be late for their flight to England. Scrambling on board, the two quickly headed for their seats, Cleo doing her best not to sound ragged by when she greeted the other two teams. “Good… Morning-hah… You ready to do this team?!” Cleo did her best to give a rousing chant, raising her fist up. Blinking a couple of times as she noticed their stares, she gave a slight laugh, trying to pass off the awkward silence. “You know, in my improve classes we do like, some get to know you games in order to get everyone used to each other and laughing, so I thought, maybe we could do a couple of those on the plane ride. That’d be fun, right?”

Cyrille was indeed amused by Ash's answer. She most definitely took inspiration from Cyrille's grandiose acts instead of her signature dry sass. Waiting for her to finish, watching as she hugged his arm, pushed him away and glued her eyes to her phone all in a smooth single motion, Cyrille instantly broke out laughing. He inched over, closing the distance and ruffling her hair similar to how he did the morning of their mission briefing. "You're a riot, Ash. Never change". One of the rare moments that he was satisfied with something someone else said.

Giving her some space after his drawn-out provoking, he watched as another third of their group of misfits joined the two. Kasmir, a more-or-less pleasant individual, and his partner, a deafening contrast. While amusing with a side of popcorn, dear Lyle can get on his nerves at times. Too tired to act, and curious to see how this interaction will play out. He watched as Ash was approached and hit-on almost as natural as a warm breeze sweeping through the air. As Kasmir approached the now 3 and making a group of 4, Cyrille waved as he bowed before them. What a spectacle, and he thought that Cleo was the actor.

"Yeah yeah, how's it been? Keeping your weapon on a short-leash?" Responding a bit dismissively in the form of light-hearted banter, the group had some time to exchange brief small talk before an attendant droned on sluggishly.

"Now boarding..plane D42."

Bringing the handle out from his luggage and rolling to the beginning of the line, he waited, spoke with the ticket-taker and quickly boarded the plane. Lord Death got them first-class seats, but no amount of bribery can remedy Cyrille's dread of flying. As the group of 4 made it to their seats, he focused onto Lyle before speaking as they all placed their luggage in the carry-on. "Wanna trade seats? An all-expense paid date with the woman of every man's wildest dreams." Obviously sarcasm, he was talking about Ash after all.

Looking in the direction of the frantic scrambling, the last pair joins the fray. Cleo and Socie, how grand for them to make their appearance. He was hoping that they all wouldn't show up and they could all go home, but unfortunately, his teammates are as stubborn as he was.

Cleo was characteristically chipper today. Making up for the lack of enthusiasm exhibited by her new team was a rather impressive feat, overbearing, but impressive. Cyrille considered jumping from the plane when she mentioned the team-building exercises. Redhead found dead from 9 feet drop onto a plane runaway. No one missed him. Cyrille could see the news headlines now.

---

September 11 | 2018, 4 days after the meeting in the DEATH ROOM
11:34 PM
Bournemouth International Airport
54°F

10-hour flight and dreadful introduction exercises, a rather deadly combination. Cleo was that type of chick that you couldn't really say no to. He prayed that he would pass out from blood loss so he didn't have to deal with this, but the nurse told him that if he didn't stop biting his thumb, finger amputation would be in order.

Exiting the plane, the group moved to the main lobby where a multitude of tour buses and taxi services lined up to steal the money and time of unknowing tourists. This is what he and his peers were to onlookers., they were mere vacationers, seeing the sights and most-definitely not going to check the mysterious fog and the source behind it. Among the many signs, lay the symbol of the DWMA, a stylized skull that bore a resemblance to Lord Death's signature mask. An olive-skinned man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, also known as their ride was waiting near the exit.

"Hello hello! I hope all of you are ready for Gerain's grand expedition! I trust we all become good friends, yeah?" A thick accent danced from his lips, followed by a wink. He was most certainly not just an ordinary tour guide.

---

Ash brought her head back as the leader of the personal space committee encroached. The invasion of space and privacy wasn't a bother, but his head was certainly obstructing her view. "If I was glad to work with you I might have gone insane,” Ash ‘lightly’ pushed her head against his, shoving it back just far enough to regain a solid sight line for the phone. "Lyle if we see the sites together I'm afraid you might ruin the view," really Ash had no issue with the idea of going out with the womanizer. It was a welcome change of pace, being doted on instead of ruffled.

Before more pleasantries could be exchanged an announcement for the plane rang out. Using Lyle as a boost, Ash threw herself from the seat past him. Having packed light, Ash grabbed her paltry luggage and made her way to plane. While making way to the plane, Cy offered to switch seats with Lyle. The sarcasm when he complimented Ash was palpable, so in order to be fair she punched him in the liver and kept on way to the plane.

---

What a miserable plane, Cy was the one that hated planes she was supposed to love them. Planes were hours where you had nothing to do but sleep, so what was everyone so insistent they do everything but sleep. Between Cleo trying to be friends, Lyle trying to be sexy, and Socie wanting to break all of the boys noses there was no time for rest. Ash prayed to the heavenly lord that they got a night in a hotel before work started.

Having mentally talked through her frustrations, Ash returned to the real world and looked forward. "Hello hello! I hope all of you are ready for Gerain's grand expedition! I trust we all become good friends, yeah?" Ash stared forward at the ridiculous looking man with a matching voice. This man was supposed to be their guide?

"So does Lord Death purposefully hire creeps or did you just bluff really good on your resume?" Taking a few steps back, the tiny girl hid behind the closest person. "Can someone else lead the way, he might just pick me up and run to a white panel van."

---

Socie had a myriad, a plethora, many choice words to say about 4 certain individuals during the flight. Socie noticed Cleo looking at her strangely for opting to be silent. Socie liked to call it passive aggressiveness. While everyone wanted to behave like monkeys, Socie would take this chance for her to look like the sophisticated one for once. Lord Death was clearly watching them and Socie was set on making her best impression. Of course, with that goal in mind there were tests. Many, many, many, trials.

Lyle was a total asswipe and Socie hopes that his personality was some meta thing or he was being satirical or something so she wouldn't have to deal with the fact that he was some broody rich guy and a horndog with mommy issues. Cyrille was a lot like Socie. And that is not a good thing. Aggression vs aggression is like putting a torrent of water on a sea of oil fires. He was just as much of a brute as her but at least Socie wasn't a sociopath. Ash was teetering on the edge of being tolerable. Yea, it's funny seeing clever remarks and comebacks from a 12 year old but Socie could only take so much. Her laziness and tendency to be unresponsive was, ironically, her best character trait. Kasmir was probably the least irritating out of the bunch if you exclude Cleo. Your run of the mill I want to be the very best that no one ever was guy. He was okay. And Cleo, well, she was Cleo. To summarize, the flight was long.

---

Socie didn't know what she expected when she got off the plain and saw the guide. Yea, this was a world where demons coexist with humans but a human guide would've been optimal. It looked and definitely sounded like Ash felt the same way as her. The way he said "Hello hello! I hope all of you are ready for Gerain's grand expedition! I trust we all become good friends, yeah?" threw Socie off. It's like if an alien saw one action movie set in America and copied what the foreigner character did in it.

"I agree with the little girl." Socie never thought she would agree with someone from the group so quickly "Not to be that guy but can we get, like, a human guide? I'm sure Cyrille over there will be happy to pay you for your the services you didn't do."

---

Lyle leapt into action almost immediately, never time to be wasted around pretty girls when it came to him. Not that Cyrille seemed to mind. Ash and he engaged immediately in a brilliant battle, one that brought a tear to Kasmir's eye. "Such passion," he whispered to himself while drying his eye with the sleeve of his jacket, envious of their ability to get so fired up on this cold morning.

"Keeping your weapon on a short-leash?" Cyrille's joke was met with a dismissive shrug by Kasmir, "The chance he has a leash kink is too great to risk it." His face split in a grin, delighted by his own joke. This team may very well become a normal thing; it had to if things got much worse.

An attendant announced their plane was boarding, and thanks to their priority seating, the team began to take their seats. Cleo mentioned team-building exercises and even though he'd recommended something similar to Lyle only a few nights ago, he couldn't see this group doing them fruitfully. Lyle kept on faithfully barking up the Ash tree and Socie was fuming. As the plane touched off the run-way and started towards their destination, Socie's tension became practically palpable, and Kasmir began to wonder how anyone could be so upset when soaring thousands of feet above the ground in a giant metallic bird.

He put on headphones and began to nod off, reclined in his first-class chair, making the rest of the plane ride relatively short. Kasmir woke only for the first class in-flight meal. Even first class airline food was better than most street shops in New Death City, and soon there'd only be the finer things in life: first class flights, five-star meals, and penthouse suites, the thought stayed with him until he woke up once more as the airplane touched down in England.

---

Waiting for them was, much like a scene out of a movie, a man holding a sign that meant he was their ride. That same goofy DWMA skull that Lord Death insisted on using everywhere, and a man who looked like he'd spent copious amounts of time in the sun, wearing probably the same shirt the entire time, was holding it.

"Hello hello! I hope all of you are ready for Gerain's grand expedition! I trust we all become good friends, yeah?

"Can someone else lead the way, he might just pick me up and run to a white panel van." Ash retorted.

"I agree with the little girl. Not to be that guy but can we get, like, a human guide? I'm sure Cyrille over there will be happy to pay you for your the services you didn't do." Socie fired off without missing a beat.

First E.A.T. Team assembled in years, and we sass our guide immediately upon first contact. Phenomenal. "One-Star Halberd Meister, Rainier Kasmir." Kasmir bowed quickly, before putting a hand on his chin, cocking head slightly to the side and approaching the man. The Hawaiian shirt guy's accent wasn't native. "You... are... Gerain? I thought our guide might be more... English..." It almost seemed like Death was testing them. However someone had already gone missing on this expedition, which meant whoever this man was, he wasn't a total push-over.

---

Having been denied the opportunity to further enjoy Ash’s company, Lyle feigned being hurt for good humour, leaning back as if wounded, but quickly retaking his spot leaning over the smaller woman. “Mmm, yes, I can understand how my visage might make other beauties dull by comparison, so perhaps instead you’d prefer a viewing in pri-“ Cut off by the announcement for the plane they were taking, Lyle was planning to ignore it until he uncomfortably felt his head forced down as the sharp little object of his affection used him like a springboard, momentarily having him flail to regain his composure. Running a hand through his hair to fix it, Lyle gave an off shrug, returning his hands to his pockets as he strode after Cyrille and Ash. Waving one hand at about shoulder height in a dismissive motion, Lyle didn’t even turn back to face Kasmir as he spoke to his meister. “Hey, don’t forget to bring our bags.”

---

Lyle might have taken up Cyrille on his offer, if not for the fact that the poor man was made to clutch his side in pain and unable to shake on such an arrangement. Kasmir would probably have something to say about it too, as weapons were never to stray too far from their meisters lest something unfortunate happen. As it were, the two were seated behind them, though the extra space of first class meant they were fairly limited in how much they got to interact. At least, that’s how it was supposed to be. While Kasmir relaxed with his music and Cyrille held an interesting posture in his seat, Lyle decided to take Cleo up on her offer of ‘introductory’ exercises, and even managed to rope in the cynical duo to participate. That said, he was only really interested in certain answers, and some of the questions he posed managed to get Cleo more than flustered enough to change the subject. Still, it was all good fun, at least for him. Socie didn’t even punch him, which was a welcome change. And people said he wasn’t a good team player.

---

---

What had been intended as fun little exercises quickly became derailed into a perverse look into everyone’s private lives. Somehow, despite trying to lead the games, Cleo had been superseded and Lyle had managed to twist them into highly inappropriate territory regarding… Things that were none of his business! Socie and Kasmir might have had the right idea sitting out on them, but if they couldn’t even do something simple like this seriously, what chance did they have as a team? Maybe she was overthinking it. After all, she wasn’t really a good leader, so she didn’t have to try and step up to the plate like that. Still, it was a little disheartening to be thwarted so succinctly…

Maybe her plans were too large a scale? Start smaller, work her way up. Maybe that’s why she ended up doing smaller activities with Cyrille and Ash to get to know them. She’d save Lyle for later… Much later. Despite the fact that she knew the number four duo weren’t exactly sociable, she felt like she made good progress in learning about them and how they were, despite a few quips and awkward moments. By the time they arrived, she was in a good enough mood again, trotting along with the group near the front of the pack as they searched for their contact. With a fresh outlook, she felt prepared and confident that they could do this.

---

---

The group met their guide, and immediately things took an… Interesting turn. Ash shot in with the first quip before taking a step behind Socie, while Cleo couldn’t help but wince as her partner further stoked the fire. Still, the man seemed friendly despite his eccentricities, what with that outfit in this climate. Maybe he’d see it as a joke? In what was probably a wise manoeuvre, Kasmir stepped in to perform the formal introductions, as well as address their most pressing concerns. Letting the man speak, Lyle waited to make his own introductions shortly after.

“Daton. Lyle Daton. And I apologise for my women, they’re a bit mouthy, but they make good company. Taming them will take some time however.” Giving a short, salute style wave, Lyle made his way over to Socie and Ash, placing an arm around each of their shoulders as he spoke. Socie had been particularly less feisty over the plane trip, so Lyle decided to push his luck and see how much he could get away with. “Ladies, introduce yourself to the man.”

Listening to the oncoming train wreck behind her, Cleo decided that some things were best left alone, giving an off chuckle as she moved up to join Kasmir. “Cleo, one-star axe meister. Please excuse us, we’re all just uh, nervous about our first big mission together, eh-heh heh…” Cringing more as she heard the sounds of Lyle and Socie behind her, she quickly decided to keep their guide occupied with more pertinent questions. “So, you’ll be showing us to the general area where people have gone missing? It’s important that we investigate the area as soon as possible.” And important they get going before the group self-destructed.

---

The man's face was unwavering, not relenting or showing any signs of irritation at some of the kids' insults and eccentric quips. Lord Death had told him not to stand-out, but Hawaiian shirts were the only thing he could really wear, being stationed in Honolulu due to a recent report of men who had gone mad. Eyes shot with blood and an aura of malevolence decorating their souls - This only seemed to manifest within people with many insecurities; stressed CEOs on vacations or people who slept in the lap of poverty. One thing for certain was that humans with average soul wavelengths should not be exhibiting so much strength. Granted, he was sent to England to help tour around some students, but the looming threat seemed to be on his mind the whole while.

Hearty laughter that sounded more akin to howling than anything, he replied with even higher spirits than before the unneeded comments. "HAH, Geralt likes you all, we all will get along fine! He smiled before bending over and slapping his right knee. Baring peculiar looking fangs before covering his own mouth as busy passer-by’s made their way to their own destinations.

---

Their guide really was something special. It was too much of an act, which was so obvious, but nonetheless, the weapons fell for the bait rather quickly. Every word could be used to embellish the mission briefing sent back to Lord Death or warp them, including comments about how these damn kids couldn't keep their mouth shut. Cyrille scratched his head, in a far worse mood than usual due to their cruel trip. If Lord Death thought Cyrille did his part during the mission, he would surely reward him by breaking apart the team, right?

The man could really compose himself through that mustache. Maybe Cyrille could take a few notes when trying to quell his quiet and calculating temper? As everyone spoke in different wavelengths, Cleo said something that really should've been kept under wraps now that they are here, the potential den of their enemies.

Patting Cleo's shoulder before bumping past her, he overtook the conversation after turning to Cleo and placing a finger perpendicular to his lips. A very Cyrille way of telling her "I'm the captain now" and "don't run your mouth", all vocalized with the single motion. They shouldn't even be stating their status as a meister so they didn't cause any trouble while they are there. The Government has restricted the control of Meister and Weapon pairs due to the amount of unwanted carnage that certain rambunctious and foolhardy pairs have unintentionally been the cause of. Plus, while the titles aren't taboo, it certainly did not bode well for him to have their presence and plan broadcasted by a bubbly turquoise-head to any enemy spy who happens to have stumbled upon them.

"Hey Gerain! Any good pubs you recommend? Most of us are old enough!" Cyrille wrapped his arm around the tanned skin shoulders of their unique tour guide, imitating his demeanor and posture. "The name's Cyrille, mere tourist. That goes for all of us."

"Aha, now we are talking! The local ones are the best, I pay for all of you!" The man smiled, grinning from fang to fang. "Afterall, you all are friends to me, no need for fancy title haha.." Despite Gerain using the DWMA logo to beckon the group over, he quickly put it away before they spoke. The man was well aware of how careful they must be in foreign territory.

---

September 12 | 2018
9:12 PM
"The Gerain Mobile" | Stonehenge Road
45°F

His head ached thanks to his 3rd favorite thing about flying, which was the jetlag. He wanted to doze off, but every bump in the road threw him awake. The van was at least in good quality. It must've been recently rented since he didn't really trust this Gerain guy to keep anything in good condition. While he felt a bit worn out from the sightseeing - more-so looking at souvenir shops and little tidbits of quaint nature/houses around their inn - he did feel a certain burst of energy from the sheer prospect of finishing this mission and going home. Though, it was good that they got all the sightseeing done now as the fog made even seeing a few inches outward a squinting struggle. He wondered how this guy could even drive on the twisting road. Cyrille tapped on the window of the van, getting the attention of his team.

"Alright… We go through the plan as discussed. We look around, see that nothing is out of the ordinary, and then we go home." Cyrille coughed and cleared his throat as his raspy voice was ever so prevalent.

After the group discussed and socialized a bit, Gerain stopped the car. An abrupt halt that seemed just as spontaneous as a sudden inkling.

SHINK

Suddenly, a large silver bolt flung out from the fog breaking the glass of the front window. It would've hit whoever was sitting in the middle dead between the eyes if not for Gerain grabbing the harpoon out of the air. He held it by the hilt before yelling back at his passengers.

"Everyone OUT!" He bent the bolt with overwhelming strength, a searing steam rising into the air from where the material and Gerain's palm connected before he caught another one, this time aimed at his own head.

In the looming fog, a figure could be made out in the distance. His arm taking the shape of a castle ballista and eyes that glowed of iron-scented blood.

---

“With lines like that you’re nearly as charming as a dead badger,” Ash looked up to Lyle as he placed an arm around both her and Socie. Which must have looked quite awkward given the whole foot of height difference between the girls. Then factoring in Lyle’s own great height.

Those comments from the womanizer had been a tid too annoying for her to humour him long. While Cleo introduced herself, Ash brushed the man's arm off her. Making way over to Cy as a way of rejecting the black-haired weapon. After all this travel she was admittedly running low on quip fuel. This would serve to both slightly provoke him and give time to recharge.

Gerain seemed to have a good laugh about it all, something that caused Ash to immediately take a liking to him. A wary liking. Perhaps the guys didn’t understand; but being wary of strange men offering van rides was kind of important.

"Hey Gerain! Any good pubs you recommend? Most of us are old enough!" Ash was almost certain she was the only one younger than eighteen. Which made the prospect sound really unpleasant. This group was annoying enough sober. "The name's Cyrille, mere tourist. That goes for all of us." Cy made his way forward, getting real buddy buddy with Gerain like they were old pals. Ash followed along, keeping her meister’s body between them.

“Ash. Happy to meet you out of arm's reach.” Cy probably didn’t appreciate her antagonizing the guide. His opinion was, in her opinion, stupid.

---

The hours of absolute hell known as sightseeing had been too much for Ash. A jetlagged nights sleep wasn’t enough to get her through that unscathed. While they drove across the countryside, Ash’s head lay comfortably planted on someones shoulder. A deep slumber was over her, the only contributions made to conversation a soft rhythmic breathing.

That crashing of glass, and shouting of Gerain sure was an exciting way to wake up. Raising her head from the scrambling body, and taking a moment to stretch and yawn.

---

You'll have to excuse our mouthy, pet ape, sir. He wasn't able to receive much home training on the flight here. Socie replied through gritted teeth and a smile as she held Lyle's hand in a death grip while slowly removing it. Her trial seemed to be hitting her hard. She would just have to become accustom to harassment then release all the anger in a torrent as soon as they stepped foot onto the soil of their home.

Gerain seemed to think that the whole ordeal was amusing and Ash was being ash about it. In between Cyrille trying to scout out a spot to get wasted, while also getting friendly with their tour guide, and Cleo trying hard to be the team leader Socie barely had any time to think. Hopefully, Socie would only have to endure a few days of torment. Maybe a pub and a few drinks would do Soice some good.

---

The least Lord Death could do was provide a van that had those little mini TVs in them so Socie could watch a movie. She could even use her Nintendo switch to play a game. But no she had to look at the same set of hills for an hour. Well, Socie would prefer the view now since she didn't want to take a look at what was stopping them from progressing. Maybe this would be the perfect time to vent her anger.

Gerain wasn't so bad after the initial shock of seeing and hearing him. Cyrille seemed to take charge, which was fine with Kasmir, if anything went wrong he could blame it on Cyrille. The red-headed Meister re-introduced them all as mere tourists and asked about a good pub. Kasmir was underage, but he'd read on a tourism book before coming here that as long as minors were accompanied by adults, they could also drink.

Though perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing to do, drinking on their first mission as a team, they were after all, representatives of the DWMA. However Kasmir bit his tongue, there was no need to get involved in the team's banter just yet, Lyle was doing that well enough for the both of them.

Thanks to a rather lengthy in-flight nap, Kasmir was wired and ready to start the mission, though he couldn't say the same for the rest of them. Cyrille looked exhausted and Ash seemed ready to drop dead from Lyle constantly, well... being Lyle. Socie and Cleo, however seemed unphased, acting like they always did. Cleo seemed physically incapable of running out of pep, and if he had to guess, Kasmir would bet Socie was probably running off sheer rage at this point. Somehow, I feel like its going to be a long day.

---

"Alright… We go through the plan as discussed. We look around, see that nothing is out of the ordinary, and then we go home."

Kasmir sighed, looking about the van at his teammates. The 'Gerain mobile' was a larger vehicle, a new model with plenty of room for the seven of them. Kasmir stretched out lazily, like a lion lazing in the sun, wishing the mission was a bit more interesting than scouting.

As if in answer to Kasmir's wishes, a large bolt embedded itself in the van.

"Everyone OUT!" Gerain screamed, catching another bolt that would've impaled him.

Kasmir smiled wildly, finally a chance to put his skills to the test, maybe even show off a bit. He threw himself out of the van, landing on his feet and sliding a few inches due to his momentum. "Lyle! Ten 'o clock, the assailant appears to be a ranged weapon, using the fog to his advantage." He extended a hand in Lyle's direction, ready to catch Lyle in his halberd form.

---

Badgers. Apes. Lyle was used to the slurs that he received from others, and so brushed them off in stride. “There’s only one time where I’m like an animal, and that’s-Gck!” Lyle found his comment abruptly cut off as Socie tightened her grip on his hand. Some uncomfortable crunching noises accompanied the intense pain as she removed herself from his grip, Lyle’s face doing its best to maintain its composure. When he was finally released, Lyle shook his hand out and blew on it a couple of times, shooting Socie a bit of a glare into her back before moving to follow the group. Well, it was better than what she normally did to him, so that was something. When the talk moved to drinks, Lyle quickly made his way back to the front of the group, stating his obvious support of the idea. Maybe a few drinks would help his company loosen up.

---

---

Glancing back over her shoulder as she was touched, she didn’t entirely catch Cy’s attempt at silencing her initially. Giving a soft gasp, more in surprise then any actual pain, Cleo stumbled slightly to the side as Cyrille pushed past her, the shorter girl grabbing hold of her shoulder and shooting him a bit of a look before he condescendingly scolded her with a simple motion. Pouting slightly, Cleo knew better than to question it, folding her arms much like an upset child as she mumbled something about being rude. Whatever the case, she didn’t entirely see why Cyrille was so annoyed at her. Were drinks really a good idea when they were on a mission? Clearly, she’d missed a memo somewhere, and it mildly upset her to be out of the loop to some extent. She was giving this her best, so the least he could do was tell her where she’d gone wrong.

As the talks of being tourists and the façade that Cy and Gerain were putting on became more obvious, Cleo’s understanding clicked into place and she sheepishly blushed that she hadn’t recognized the need to be coy. Ugh, how could she be so stupid? This was exactly the sort of mistake she’d chastise Socie for, and here she was making a dunce of herself. Sighing to herself, she lagged a little behind the group as they set off on their tour. Soon enough she was back to her bubbly, cheery self however. It didn’t take much to act happy and like a foreigner when you weren’t a local. Buying an assortment of knickknacks, some clothing and other gifts, she was certainly the one that best fit the traveller demographic, and soon enough, had completely forgotten what had upset her in the first place.

---

---

”You know, if you’re uncomfortable, you can always hand Ash over to me.” Lyle winked at Cleo from across the other side of the van, for what felt like the hundredth conversation she was having with him. It was like every time she tried to be polite in talking with him he took that inch and turned it into several feet. Giving the boy a sceptical look, Cleo waved a hand dismissively. “No, that’s alright. She’s actually pretty light.” Looking down to her shoulder at the sleeping Ash, Cleo couldn’t help but smile. She liked helping out, and beyond that, she felt obliged to protect the vulnerable girl from Lyle’s creeper advances. With Cyrille in the front with Gerain, The girls had claimed one side of the van with Lyle and Kasmir on the other. Cleo was used to the middle seat on her side, and was a little proud that Ash trusted her enough to take a nap on her. Even if there wasn’t much other choice.

Socie had been quieter than usual, maybe as a result of the larger group? When they were alone, she was certainly chattier. Perhaps she was just being considerate of Ash’s sleep? Cleo found it hard to work out what she was thinking, which wasn’t good considering they were supposed to be partners. Maybe she was overthinking things; there was nothing to be worried about. Cyrille just happened to tap the window at that moment, reminding them of the simplicity of their operation and the plan, Cleo giving a nod of affirmation. If there was any chance she was the leader before, Cyrille had clearly superseded her at this point. She didn’t know why, but that made her sad slightly. It shouldn’t have really bothered her, especially considering he outranked her, but it brought up uncomfortable memories. Gosh, why was she so uncertain all of the sudden? Maybe the fog was just making her jittery…

“You know, it can’t be good for her to stay sleeping upright like that. We’ve got a spare seat over here, so maybe we could lie her down, let her rest on my lap.” Lyle tried once again to get Cleo to relinquish Ash, the female giving a look of disgust and questioning, followed by pleading as she looked to Kasmir. It seemed he was a fan of the laissez faire approach to things, at least when it came to Lyle. Part of Cleo wished something would happen already so that she could get out of dealing with him… And soon enough, she got her wish. In a moment, the intensity shot from a 2 to an 11 as the shattering sound of glass filled the air, Cleo shrieking out in alarm as a bolt stopped only an arm’s length away from her, the meister more thankful for their guide at that moment then she’d ever been. "Everyone OUT!" Gerain’s booming voice didn’t need to tell her twice. Hurriedly unbuckling herself and shaking Ash, Cleo was more than a little perturbed that the little meister was so casually stretching at a time like this. “Come on! We need to get some cover!” Dragging Ash with her so that she could regroup with Cyrille, Cleo followed after Socie to clamber out the side of the van, calling the weapon over to her side as she took shelter behind the vehicle. Seemed like they found the source of the disappearances.

At the same time, the boy’s had both disembarked out the backdoor, a bit more organised then the females of the squad. Despite his charming and flirtacious demeanour, Lyle was focussed enough once combat started, moving into position to follow Kasmir’s lead. “An ambush huh?! Fine by me. How many of them are there?” Taking a couple of running strides towards Kasmir, Lyle leapt towards his partner. "Lyle! Ten 'o clock, the assailant appears to be a ranged weapon, using the fog to his advantage." Kasmir informed, ever reliable. Shifting in a flash of light into sharpened metal, the halberd spun several times before Lyle perfectly landed within the Meister’s hand, sharpened point aimed directly at their target. “Only one guy? Well, this should be easy.” His apparition appearing by Kasmir, Lyle looked to the rest of the team then back to his partner before settling on their adversary. ”So much for scouting. Let’s take point. We’ve got ladies to impress Kasmir, don’t let me down.”

Another bolt was let fly, Lyle barely transforming in time to deflect the bolt. Kasmir slowly advanced, a wild look in his eyes as he dodged another bolt tearing past, only inches from his face. A normal scouting mission wouldn’t have been anything that caught notice, but this was a surefire way to garner attention from the masses. “Just like training back at the Academy, eh Lyle?” As Kasmir made his way forward, Lyle remained somewhat relaxed in his Meister’s grip, casually observing the situation with a calm disinterest. “Yeah, simple stuff. I could probably take a nap and you’d still be able to handle it. You’re so dependable like that.” Keeping the banter light, Lyle narrowed his eyes as more bolts came their way, steeling himself to have Kasmir deflect the deadly ones. Had the enemy changed position on them with this fog? It was impossible to see much more than a few feet in front of you.

---

Meanwhile, back at the van, the rest of the team was regrouping for the moment. [color= #3AC3AB]“Ugh, what are those two doing charging ahead like that? We’re supposed to be a team!”[/color] Cleo shouted the last part, hoping that the boys would maybe hear her. One of them did, but it wasn’t the one she intended. “Less people to deal with, I only have so many leashes. Get your head in the game, bubbly.” Cyrille was almost ignoring all the fireworks that were happening around them, staying focused and making sure to keep quiet as to not be discernible in the thick fog. Cleo was not so wise. “I am in the game, right Socie? If they’re going ahead without us, we should back them up, together!” Gesturing for her weapon to enter her hands, Cleo got into a basic stance as she waited for Cyrille, watching as he walked over and focused his attention on Ash. Slapping her cheek lightly, and giving her the signal to transform. “Hey Ash, I’m either using you as a blade or human shield. Walk yourself awake.” Cyrille already was yearning to give orders. Frankly, he didn’t expect actual action, but he’ll play a bit. He had a slight suspicion that their enemy was well out of their league.

“Slap me again and you’ll need a shield from me,” her nap had been so rudely interrupted and now no was letting her wake up at a good pace. It's not like she’d get hit by any of those bolts, even while groggy. Grumbling further to herself, Ash made pace and followed Cy. Waiting for the last possible moment she needed to transform.

“Hey Gerain, a little he-”. Before he could even finish, he turned back only to quickly jump out of the way. A Hawaiian shirt wearing beast punching the van forward by a few yards, causing Cleo to squeal out in alarm as she stumbled out of the way. “HAHA, GERAIN HAS FOUND THE SMALL SUITED MEN!” The van creaked to a painful stop, the remaining intact glass windows shattering as the car almost compressed on impact. Cyrille watched where it had landed before calling out to Cleo. “Umm..Hey Cleo, thanks for handling this one.” The hot-headed red hair meister ran out to the car, essentially leaving Cleo to her own devices. He was curious of why Gerain attacked them, but really had no time to pursue fruitless suspicions. If anyone could figure out this stuff for him, besides him, of course. It was Cleo.

“H-huh?!” Turning to see Cyrille running off, Cleo took a moment to realise what was happening. “Wait, hold up, why do I have to-” Cleo didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence. As Cyrille disappeared into the fog, Gerain’s focus turned toward the only other visible figure. Leaping at the axe-wielder without forewarning, shaking the ground as he left it. “Don’t know if this is important, but you might want to take a look above you, Cleo!” If Socie had her limbs she would try to get her attention by gesturing but screaming would suffice. Cleo briefly recognized the shadow over her just in time to pull her partner into the way, the loud clang echoing through the air as claw met steel. “Snap out of it Gerain! What’s wrong with you?! It’s us! Don’t you recognize me? I thought you said my hair looked nice!” Despite her best efforts to hold her ground, Cleo was steadily buckling under the strength of the werewolf in front of her. In a battle of raw power, she wasn’t the best, despite the axe she wielded. “You won’t trick me suited man! You’re mine!” Pulling back from the locked power struggle, Gerain began to unleash a steady torrent of blows at Cleo, slash after slash pounding at the shaft of the axe as the girl barely managed to shift the weapon to defend herself. Each blow sent a tremor through the weapon, and each strike caused Cleo’s knees to buckle a little as she dug into the dirt. The disadvantage of how unwieldy the axe could be really hampering her when not on the offensive. “How are we supposed to stop him if he won’t listen to us?! I don’t want to hurt our tour guide!” Cleo whined to Socie, frozen in indecision for the moment as she struggled to come up with a plan. What was even going on? Why was he after them? And why did he keep calling her a suited man?! She wasn’t that tomboyish!

“Not to be that girl cause violence isn’t the answer but sometimes it's the only way people will listen.” Socie replied, she was kind of irritated by how many blows she had to take. Socie and Ash had different priorities right now, Cleo wanted to spare the life of a maniac and Socie wanted to get her hands dirty. A slight tap on the head wouldn’t hurt, right? Assuming that he wasn’t a demon or an otherworldly god or something. “Do you mind throwing me in his general direction? Do you think that would poison me? I’ll say you’re in the game if you do. That would be a pretty gamey thing to do, right?”

“No way! I can’t throw you over there without letting Gerain rip me to pieces! Not to mention… Wait, poison? What are you talking about?” Cleo’s confusion evident on her face, the small girl’s mind played over the past events and the way Gerain was acting. Wait, could it be..?

---

Bolt after bolt rained through the fog, a fusillade of spikes, each one potentially deadly. To make matters worse, whoever was firing them was moving rapidly through the fog and somehow able to aim at its target unerringly. “Tch, come and fight me, you coward!” Kasmir screamed into the fog, and he was answered by another bolt from the left, aimed at his face. He could feel the wind part to make way for the bolt on his skin, barely missing its intended target. “How can he even see me in this fucking mess?! If I could see him, he’d be a deadman…” Looking mildly annoyed himself, Lyle scoffed. “Hmmph, you’re telling me. Honestly, you’re embarrassing us both Kasmir. No one’s lasted this long in quite a while.”

Gerain was going berserk in the background, screaming out about, “The suited man!” It was really a distraction Kasmir couldn’t afford at the moment. Another bolt came flying, and was promptly knocked out of the air by the whirlwind that was Lyle. Stopping to spare a glance at Gerain and the others, another loosed bolt managed to hit Kasmir’s jacket and pin him to the ground with it. The bolts stopped coming, a long enough temporary respite for him to shrug the jacket off and begin a hasty retreat back to the group. “That’s gonna be a bitch get to get mended”

Cyrille almost left him at the mercy of the elements. He kind of deserved it for running out without protection or a plan. While he definitely would be chastised by Lord D if he let one of them die, Cyrille couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the dance. Kasmir was doing a good enough time of not getting hit but he was being tracked almost too perfectly. Every bolt found its mark, did the man trace him with the noise of metal against metal with each parry? No… Kasmir dodged some as well.

“Hey Ash, gonna need you to cover this guy.” Without warning, he waved his hand out to send her forward. Pointed forward for utmost forward trajectory, it flew past Kasmir and parried the bolts. While the string of blood that connected them had a seemingly endless length, it was harder to control such an excessively large blade with his smaller soul wavelength as the distance between them grew.

“What a pain, can’t even stop themselves from dying,” Ash complained, mostly to herself. Within the heat of battle, her monotone mumblings didn’t carry. These bolts carried a good amount of force, and she wasn’t exactly designed to just take them flat on. Lyle got to be swung around and properly parried with and she had to careen like a javelin, totally unfair.

“Much obliged Cyrille.”

The air hummed as a bolt found it’s mark, not through Kasmir’s back, but cutting straight through the string that Cyrille made. Both of them received a light shock as Ash clattered to the ground.

“Huh, this isn’t good.” The flamberge now lay on the ground, entirely separated from its source of power. Cyrille didn’t know how to use her properly but it was still better than helplessly laying in the middle of a field. Completely isolated she couldn’t turn back to her human form and run to Cyrille, she enjoyed the feeling of not being shot too much. Well as long as she was just a piece of metal on the dirt not as if he would shoot at her, maybe she could get some sleep while the others dealt with this.

What? What? What? No way..no fucking way. Every signal and receptor in his brain screamed red flags. The guy they were facing was clearly out of their league, severing the string? He looked back at Gerain and Cleo, the fight clearly swinging in the favor of the oversized werewolf. Cyrille could swear that Gerain was growing from every strike performed by both parties. What can he do? What was the plan, what was the play? He never was one to curl up in a ball and try to disappear, but this stress was clearly rushing to his head. Blood running into his brain. Should he run, should he stay, should he fight? Cyrille stared at his leaking right thumb, the blood dribbling to the ground in a rhythmic fashion.

drip
drop
drip
drop
drip

CHUNK!

He promised Ash that he wouldn’t bite his thumb again, but they both disappointed each other almost every day, so he felt that he could cheat during this moment in particular. At least, it was his left thumb this time, sparing his right the prospect of amputation.

As blood slowly trickled down his thumb, he waved his hand out before covering the finger with his right palm. Now he was focused, drowning out the unwanted thoughts and-

Wait a minute.

A few feet in front of him, it was almost like the drops was caught in a spider’s web. Dragging a..string downwards as the crimson color seemed to glisten as it glazed the string. Strings..what fo-

Answered, though interrupted immediately, a bolt shot through the air and flew past him, Cyrille saving his own life with a well-timed dodge. The timing was too perfect. Not his duck, but the bolt that followed immediately after the string was brought down by the drop of blood. Almost like notes of a music page, the actions happened close after the other, and like a happily wedded redneck couple, they were related.

After sulking time, and noticing that Kasmir has found himself some cover, he called for his teammate to provide some support, AKA, a distraction while he goes out to fetch Ash. “Kasmir! Cover me, will ‘ya?” Cyrille just needed him to deflect bolts ‘till their enemy had to reload, then he’ll grab his partner and they’ll assist Cleo. Unsurprisingly, Cyrille might just have a plan.

“Got it!” Kasmir screamed out over the din of battle, leaping out of cover and drawing their assailant’s fire. Sure enough, the bolts immediately began to rain down on the meister. Twirling Lyle like a baton, the first bolt was knocked out of the air. A swift duck let the second bolt soar over his head, and Kasmir found himself giggling wildly. “Well… I was hoping this would be more exciting than a scouting mission.”

Damn near certain that he could take their assailant down if only the coward would show his face, Kasmir contented himself with the delicate dance of dodging, parrying and ensuring Cyrille didn’t end up on the wrong end of a bolt. Whoever was firing these things was skilled too. Repositioning quickly and firing in calculated volleys, aiming low with one and immediately following up with one aimed high, it wasn’t the work of an amateur. “Whatever data the Academy had on this mission, it was WAY off.”

“Well, no sense complaining. Just focus on not getting pinned down like before. There’s only so much I can do to protect us all.” Arrogantly claiming sole responsibility for the safety of the team, Lyle had stopped paying attention to the battle ahead and was instead doing his best to watch Kasmir’s positioning to protect Cyrille and by proxy, Ash. There was no telling when the volley would switch targets if the other meister made a wrong move, but he needed to be ready to inform his meister to switch positions and intercept.

Watching as Kasmir deflected the bolts, Cyrille studied the movements. The bolts were spontaneous, right when he ran into the open. Of course, while the area between them was covered with wires, there must be places where they could wait out the storm. Shelter to regroup and construct a plan of action. Snapping out of his daze, Cyrille ran out as he got the assailant's attention, having to dodge the bolts that Kasmir didn’t deflect. Rolling to safety, he grabbed Ash and reconnected the blood string.

Pulling her out of her slump (Cyrille knew for certain that she was taking a nap), he brought them behind cover. “Kasmir! That’s enough!” Running away from the ensuing bolts, he noticed Cleo and Gerain. He was pleasantly surprised that she lasted this long, though noticing the cracks in her defenses as she was beginning to get overpowered. He waved Kasmir over as they ran to her aid.