Dragonball M, Chapter 4: Kidnapping! Invasion! A new Threat Strikes First!

[Sub-Zero MKA]

OT: Nunlil left years ago, FYI. Long before she met Jack.

IC:

“We’re working on that. During their....visit, Nunlil and Jack both offered to help train our other hunter Oni. Trust me, they were quite helpful to the cause. As of right now we have about one thousand hunter Oni, which is two hundred more than we had before my resurrection.”

Sihn nods and pours a drink.

“We have also made a comprehensive list of all Oni who decided to follow Nunlil and Durga and Marduk’s example and leave HFIL without telling anyone. We are currently missing twenty four hunter Oni not counting the ones mentioned above, three general Guard Captain Oni, and one low level administrator Oni. Twenty Eight in total.”

OT: Parsley's not aware of that. She probably wouldn't care either

IC:

Out of a thousand hunters, twenty-four decided to leave. That wasn't as bad as she feared. Parsley had no idea how many souls left HFIL on a "daily" basis. She could only imagine it was a regular amount, given the number of hunters enlisted. There were other factors involved, even multiple Oni leaving their post unannounced was the largest one.

Ochazuke stood quiet, silently observing a distant wall of this strange office. As he listened in, it was as if he was searching the Afterlife for something else that seemed far too distant and continued to elude him.

"Twenty-eight of your hell hunters. A list won't do if we cannot find them. However..."

Popping a capsule, he set a cracked earthenware jug on the table, its top set with...plastic cling film, etched with a red ink seal.

"It so happens that one of your damned escapees had crossed my path," he said, his expression darkening. "She was reticent at first, but after a year in the Room of Spirit and Time, we came to...something of an understanding."

It was about half a year ago, but there had been a dark day when thousands of ghosts bled from the suspended moment of the chamber, as if their tortured screams had at last been silenced when they were released from the one that took them.

For every life she took, day by grueling day, he and Zaofan wrung the stolen souls out of her, until only a single, broken will remained.

"Whoever gave her the opportunity, it is likely Kevi, Widow's Strife knows."

Sihn leans in, eyes dark. He carefully places his revolver on the desk, eyes never leaving the jar.

“I see. Than perhaps we should ask her.”

Sheki’hinah seems disgusted at her name, no doubt understanding and indeed having already sorted those souls Kevi finally let free.

Sarada had told Parsley in brief about Kevi and her deal. A being who preyed on children seemed tailor-made to earn her sister's ire, yet they never fought. A surprise to be sure, but perhaps for the best. The vampire seemed out of Sarada's depth back then, and had learned tricks to keep her out of her grasp on Darkle. And now, it seemed the feared vampire had been de-fanged and neutered.

Without her collective of souls, she was likely nothing more than a nuisance - a less annoying one than she was before. The false "king" was back in his hell, so Kevi was the only person capable of telling them the exact means of her escape.

Parsley eyed the diminutive ceramic jar placed on the desk with a curious glint in her eye. Arms folded, she awaited the shadow creature's appearance so they could finally have a diretion to go in. With hope, that direction ended with a face to punch.

[grampagen]

Sihn leans in, eyes dark. He carefully places his revolver on the desk, eyes never leaving the jar.

“I see. Than perhaps we should ask her.”

Sheki’hinah seems disgusted at her name, no doubt understanding and indeed having already sorted those souls Kevi finally let free.

Eyeing Sihn's revolver for a moment, Ochazuke instantly gauged the severity of his intention.

One like Banefire.

In hands of Battersea and Chris the Knife who had scarcely a concept of what they wielded and saw only a weapon, they'd seen what such an entity could do. Brought to heel by a divine authority, if they served the same, direct purpose, who knew what they could bring to bear?

Under the thin, plastic film, there was a black mist that collected into thin dewdrops underneath.

"When she left this place, I have no doubt she had prepared to run amok with all the power of a Super Saiyan. Divest of all that, well...you'll see."

That said, he tore the cling wrap off the mouth of the jar like a scap. Dark mist spilled from the desk and creeped from the floor, resolving itself into the shape of Kevi the Stalker. A withered gray ghost shambled from the dark cloud, scanning her predatory eye around the office, until she laid her eyes on Ochazuke. He raised a finger, point it straight at her, and she recoiled.

"I've already killed you a thousand times. Do not give any of us a reason to end you permanently. Now talk."

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

Rutaba heard what Totoma, but there was no way she could comprehend it. Rage and fury filled every crevice of her mind, pushing out all rational thought. The power she was feeling was indescribable. She had never felt so strong, so confident! There was no way anyone could beat her!

"Grrrrrrrrrr!!"

Vocado watched from above as the young Saiyanness achieved the transformation. He had never seen it from the outside looking in before. It was more visceral than he anticipated, but Rutaba's current mental state mirrored the emotions he had been feeling when he first transformed years ago.

He quickly descended and landed not too far from them. "Indeed. Very well done."

It didn't seem Rutaba was capable of verbalizing much of anything. "Ah. We should help her calm down," he said to Totoma. "The words are brief, if they exist at all, the first time."

Totoma nodded. "The first time I transformed, I, uh... went berserk. Funny thing is, it was because of emotional feedback over a psychic link, not anything I really experienced directly. Guess I can just chalk that up to halfbreed... stuff, I guess." He didn't really know, since there weren't any other halfbreed Super Saiyans that he knew of.

...wait, there was Lantro. He was a half-saiyan, right? Wonder how he first transformed...

Bah, didn't matter. Needed to calm Rutaba down, somehow. Preferably in a fun sort of way. She was experiencing a level of power she'd never even dreamed of before, and any saiyan would want to test it out, so...

Might as well fight it out.

Adjusting his ki output downward to (roughly) match Rutaba, Totoma dropped into a fighting stance, motioning for her to come at him. Preferably with everything she could muster at the moment.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Eyeing Sihn's revolver for a moment, Ochazuke instantly gauged the severity of his intention.

One like Banefire.

In hands of Battersea and Chris the Knife who had scarcely a concept of what they wielded and saw only a weapon, they'd seen what such an entity could do. Brought to heel by a divine authority, if they served the same, direct purpose, who knew what they could bring to bear?

Under the thin, plastic film, there was a black mist that collected into thin dewdrops underneath.

"When she left this place, I have no doubt she had prepared to run amok with all the power of a Super Saiyan. Divest of all that, well...you'll see."

That said, he tore the cling wrap off the mouth of the jar like a scap. Dark mist spilled from the desk and creeped from the floor, resolving itself into the shape of Kevi the Stalker. A withered gray ghost shambled from the dark cloud, scanning her predatory eye around the office, until she laid her eyes on Ochazuke. He raised a finger, point it straight at her, and she recoiled.

"I've already killed you a thousand times. Do not give any of us a reason to end you permanently. Now talk."

In this reduced form, Kevi looked much like a ragged old crone, grey hair misting about a thin, angled face from which gleamed predatory eyes.

Until she spots Sihn.

The human looking man, with his strange revolver, cocks his head to the side and eyes the withered form. One hand stays on the revolver.

“Widowstrife, I would do as you’re told. Either answer his questions, or answer theirs.”

He taps the revolver at this and motions to Sheki’hinah, eyebrow raising. Kevi almost finches back, and Ochazuke you can see a momentarily flash of fear in her usual haughty and hungry eyes. After a moment, she speaks, voice like dried leaves filled with a bitter resentment.

“What do you want to know?”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

In this reduced form, Kevi looked much like a ragged old crone, grey hair misting about a thin, angled face from which gleamed predatory eyes.

Until she spots Sihn.

The human looking man, with his strange revolver, cocks his head to the side and eyes the withered form. One hand stays on the revolver.

“Widowstrife, I would do as you’re told. Either answer his questions, or answer theirs.”

He taps the revolver at this and motions to Sheki’hinah, eyebrow raising. Kevi almost finches back, and Ochazuke you can see a momentarily flash of fear in her usual haughty and hungry eyes. After a moment, she speaks, voice like dried leaves filled with a bitter resentment.

“What do you want to know?”

Kevi was a haggard, decrepit old witch, only made relevant by the fact that she possessed knowledge they were in need of. Devoid of what she could only assume was a supposedly indomitable will, the vampire was nothing more than a withered sack of ancient bones.

When she spoke, her voice cracked like a pile of fallen leaves left out in the sun for too long. It made Parsley's skin crawl.

"You were given an opportunity to flee your eternal damnation and return to the realm of the living. Who gave it to you?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Kevi was a haggard, decrepit old witch, only made relevant by the fact that she possessed knowledge they were in need of. Devoid of what she could only assume was a supposedly indomitable will, the vampire was nothing more than a withered sack of ancient bones.

When she spoke, her voice cracked like a pile of fallen leaves left out in the sun for too long. It made Parsley's skin crawl.

"You were given an opportunity to flee your eternal damnation and return to the realm of the living. Who gave it to you?"

She looks them over, as if seriously considering enter all nothingness instead of answering.

“A member of the Cabal of Thorn and Stone. A Soul Meister, one using ancient arts to bypass the hells here.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

She looks them over, as if seriously considering enter all nothingness instead of answering.

“A member of the Cabal of Thorn and Stone. A Soul Meister, one using ancient arts to bypass the hells here.”

A cabal, a clandestine group of individuals who maneuvered events from the shadows. Even in HFIL, people sought control and influence.

The very first question that came to Parsley's mind when she heard the response was what did Kevi, Battersea, and the others have to give or do for these people to secure their escape. The use of ancient arts for such a strenuous and ultimately costly task as bypassing the hell barriers didn't come for free. What was the payment? What did Kevi have to give up in exchange for what ultimately amounted to a crumb of freedom and a horribly humbling experience afterwards?

"In exchange for? What did this so-called Soul Meister want in exchange for giving you and the others your freedom?"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Totoma nodded. "The first time I transformed, I, uh... went berserk. Funny thing is, it was because of emotional feedback over a psychic link, not anything I really experienced directly. Guess I can just chalk that up to halfbreed... stuff, I guess." He didn't really know, since there weren't any other halfbreed Super Saiyans that he knew of.

...wait, there was Lantro. He was a half-saiyan, right? Wonder how he first transformed...

Bah, didn't matter. Needed to calm Rutaba down, somehow. Preferably in a fun sort of way. She was experiencing a level of power she'd never even dreamed of before, and any saiyan would want to test it out, so...

Might as well fight it out.

Adjusting his ki output downward to (roughly) match Rutaba, Totoma dropped into a fighting stance, motioning for her to come at him. Preferably with everything she could muster at the moment.

Rutaba's newfound power blazed like a newly sparked wildfire. Her aura ebbed and flowed chaotically. It was a struggle to get herself under control.

"Raaaaaaaaah!" she yelled as she exploded forward to meet him head on. She was a ball of fury as she launched her wild volley on Totoma.

Vocado watched the two spar with a passive expression. Once Rutaba calmed down, getting her to master Super Saiyan would be fairly simple. That, of course, wouldn't be the end, and he would be able to help her maximize Super Saiyan's power. Totoma, on the other hand, would take some doing to get him to realize that learning SSJ3 - while perhaps necessary - wasn't any better than fully master his base form and first level.

Sadly, Vocado didn't realize that until after he mastered SSJ3. If he had, then he would have never bothered with it. It had its uses, but it was mostly unnecessary.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

A cabal, a clandestine group of individuals who maneuvered events from the shadows. Even in HFIL, people sought control and influence.

The very first question that came to Parsley's mind when she heard the response was what did Kevi, Battersea, and the others have to give or do for these people to secure their escape. The use of ancient arts for such a strenuous and ultimately costly task as bypassing the hell barriers didn't come for free. What was the payment? What did Kevi have to give up in exchange for what ultimately amounted to a crumb of freedom and a horribly humbling experience afterwards?

"In exchange for? What did this so-called Soul Meister want in exchange for giving you and the others your freedom?"

“What is more powerful than information? Connections? Experiences? All is currency.”

[grampagen]

“What is more powerful than information? Connections? Experiences? All is currency.”

At this lackluster answer, Ochazuke sighed. In a single motion he pulled his travelling cloak from his shoulders, neatly folded it, and placed it on a chair before Sihn's desk, exposing his bare arms where they emerged from his sleeveless dougi.

Cracking his neck back and forth, he smashed a fist into his palm, and began to walk towards Kevi...

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“What is more powerful than information? Connections? Experiences? All is currency.”

At this lackluster answer, Ochazuke sighed. In a single motion he pulled his travelling cloak from his shoulders, neatly folded it, and placed it on a chair before Sihn's desk, exposing his bare arms where they emerged from his sleeveless dougi.

Cracking his neck back and forth, he smashed a fist into his palm, and began to walk towards Kevi...

Parsley eyed the human as he approached Kevi, a menacing air wreathing around him like a thick fog. Her keen gaze cut from him to the spectral witch. A small smirk played on her lips as she spoke. "I know you technically answered my question, but surely you can do better than that."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

She hisses and arcs back as far from Ochazuke as she can.

“Fine! Memories! Experiences! Specifically, I paid for my chance at freedom with memories of Earth. Of my magic and my conquests and whomever I fought! Memories of their skills and power and capabilities!”

She settles a bit, eyeing Ochazuke warily.

“He was most interested in Battersea and I.”

[grampagen]

BGM - Fields of Fright

Survival of the Fittest.

Etched into the very fabric of the universe itself, heedless of the will of gods themselves it has persisted since time immemorial. From the smallest autonomous motes that banded together to survive suspended in a droplet, to those who feigned immortality, there persists the law of nature. To live is to struggle, to striving towards strength to sustain one thing above all else: the innately primal and covetous desire to live.

_

The Ancient Hall of the Tiger King had fallen into disuse long ago, and the only things which remain to the memory of Bya Kau rests upon the walkway of his ruined Wat. The Six Ivory Tusks of Girimehkala, hewn from a creature generated from fearful karma that had wrought power borne from vice, sit sleeping under the blue glow of the ancient sutras. The Red Raider attack three years ago sacrificed the symbol which carried the memory of the Tiger Warriors, those who stand forgotten. Now they stand as a silent memorial for those things which once brought despair.

_

Rebuilt over where the sky fell five years ago, New Anvil City stands, a pearl in the desert. An initiative spearheaded by the Thousand Wings Foundation bought the land under the government's nose for cheap. In an age of automation by design, those displaced in the Capital City invasions moved west to build something of their own, called forth by something they hadn't any way of knowing before.

_

Stirring in silence countless fathoms below, there came rising from the elusive depth that had long since been abandoned by the light of the sun. Two thousand years ago, the denizens of the sea had been banished, fearful of what the light would bring with it where they preyed upon the ancient wooden vessels that crossed sea and strait. But now, somehow, they knew those who dwelled on land had long grown complacent, and one set of eyes in particular was no longer watching.

_

There was one who sought a new beginning from The End of All Things, and in her hubris merely witnessed the transition to a way she had not anticipated for her design. Nestled there in the origin of all things, an ancient thing fall from it, and as if an errant spark loosed from a Cosmic Forge, a falling star looms where it speeds across the galaxy.
_

The day Grinthorn disappeared, the balance crafted upon the Earth had been upended. He who had stood upon the apex and held the planet in his hand had suddenly loosed his grip, and those who would not dare challenge the creature masquerading as the President of the World so long as he held his seat slowly became aware that they were no longer held in check. Like waking from the slumber of hibernation under the change of the seasons, so too had there been a reckoning. Those who feared to step inside his all-seeing gaze knew that they had at last escaped the Shadow of the Dragon and found themselves ready to prey upon the tender world he had cultivated in his peace.

Even for the Eternal Ones, the desire to live is paramount, even if he is lord of a kingdom of delusions and madness. Yet those mythic beasts of the bygone age who sought to resume their reign may have their hopes misplaced, for the story of Humanity is one that is written from strife.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

She hisses and arcs back as far from Ochazuke as she can.

“Fine! Memories! Experiences! Specifically, I paid for my chance at freedom with memories of Earth. Of my magic and my conquests and whomever I fought! Memories of their skills and power and capabilities!”

She settles a bit, eyeing Ochazuke warily.

“He was most interested in Battersea and I.”

"Because you and he fought us, I presume?" By 'us', Parsley was referring to all the M Fighters except her. She had never met Battersea, and hadn't fought Kevi until Darkle. "Imagine giving up so much, only to end up exactly where you were before. How sad."

Interesting.

She was curious as to where that individual was. If it was possible, she would very much like to cross a potential enemy off their never-ending list before he became a problem for the whole of their still fractured group. "Where is this Meister? I'd like to a have a word with him."

[grampagen]

She hisses and arcs back as far from Ochazuke as she can.

“Fine! Memories! Experiences! Specifically, I paid for my chance at freedom with memories of Earth. Of my magic and my conquests and whomever I fought! Memories of their skills and power and capabilities!”

She settles a bit, eyeing Ochazuke warily.

“He was most interested in Battersea and I.”

"You would know much of these matters, wouldn't you," Ochazuke repled, "even if they were taken from the souls you claimed."

A small shift fell between the ropes that wrapped his hands. Perhaps at this juncture, after a year's time of deaths and rebirths, Widow's Strife might recognize it as the single tell that a strike was coming.

"A thousand lifetimes you'd gambled with and none of them your own."

His expression furrowed at the mention of Simon Battersea.

"You were the Soul Meister's first choice for this mission. But for the martial lineage of the Master, even I might be persuaded." Even death itself could not take Kevi; this was a banishment between realms.

"What does he intend to do by disrupting the afterlife and the Oni?"