Mission 50: A Boy and his Blade

[Tsin]

Blanc, poor poor Blanc, standing atop his balcony in a position of relative safety. The wealthy owner of the mansion had little to say and even less to do for the majority of the conflict. He simply observed, sometimes with terror and other times with amusement, as the three men played out their battle in grand expanse of his foyer, the very future of his financial security riding on who was left standing at the end. At present time however, Blanc seemed much more attentive than usual, slamming his balled up fists on the railing and shouting indignantly in the direction of shattering decor. "Stop that this instant! Rojo! ROJO! GET UP HERE AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!"

The livid landowner's cries were futile though, as Jun continued about his business and Rojo remained nowhere to be found. Even the ever-so-deadly mercenary on the ground, usually at the very beck-and-whim of his employer, seemed completely engrossed with the current issue at hand... That is to say, Gavin.

Noir skid to a stop upon the heels of his dress shoes, slamming both his weapons into the ground to steady himself in this time of weakness. Keeping up any level of speed at all was becoming more and more tasking by the second, forcing him to apply himself in these intermitten sprinting bursts rather than long leisurely dashes as he had done earlier. And the hunter hated it, especially with the opposing musician beating a perfectly timed retreat for the purpose of... a pleasant song.

The half-suited man was not dumb; this maneuver was something he had seen before and his surprise at the opposing pair's suddenly explosive speed was still fresh in his mind. He was in a downtime though, one of the troughs of his energy wavelength, and it took no small amount of his mind screaming at his legs and his legs shrieking back in pain at his mind to even achieve enough force to push himself forward by a few inches. But a few inches become a few more, and then the feet and yards quickly blur past as the bounty hunter, eyes set upon his target like a bird of prey.

"Slash!"

A scythe of fluid fell from the sky as if faling from the hand's of Death himself, impacting against and actually cutting through the solid marble floor. Noir sprang backwards at the last possible moment, droplets of the liquid blade spattering against his face and clothes. They did no harm to him in anyway, but Jun still seemed vaguely satisfied as descended from the sky with a single flip, landing in a crouch. That expression combined with the strange smell from whatever crap was currently on him... 'These damn guys...!' It was enough to drive anybody into a rage.

The hunter sprinted forwards at a speed that would impress even himself given the circumstances, slamming a heel into the ground and twirling about once, both weapons held low to either bludgeon, cut, or sear the writer into submission. All three at once, if Noir had any say about it. Jun seemed more than prepared for a counterattack however, rising up from his kneel and launching himself into the air, club and blade clashing against his polearm in a near-miss though curiously lighting the spearhead ablaze at the same time. And then, before he could even land on the other side of the enemy...

"Musician's Accelerando."

Gavin had returned to the conflict, tearing across the stone expanse as fast as his heart and flimsy sandals would possibly allow. He hammered out a pincer attack, so quickly it seemed like both swings had come at the same time, squeezing Noir in the middle as his sword and sheath came up on either side to defend. The pressure had immobolized the man who was typically a speed demon any other moment though; just enough time for the bard to leap up and away.

On the otherside, Jun swung his whole body around and let the momentum of his form fuel the spin of his blade. As all things full of mass do, it took a bit of a second to work up some speed but once that inertia was going around, the little gap in his Fountain Glaive singing like a banshee in the passing wind, it was sure as hell not gonna stop. The lancer leapt up and away from the mutual enemy as Gavin had, surrounding Noir at the center of a V shape; heroes at the top and the villain at the bottom.

"Red Composition..." "Inferno Lance..." "Tremolo Salvo!" "Barrage!"

To call the combined assault a storm would be to do it an injustice. It was no crossfire either, as the scribe and the musician had focused the entirety of their tempest upon the poor bounty hunter in the middle. Despite that however, Noir was definitely caught in it, whatever monstrous fury or hellish squall could properly describe it. From one side, a thousand blasts of pressurized air ripped through its chosen medium like bullets and forcefully pounded themselves sometimes in, sometimes through the victim at the target point. From the other, an infinite stream of perfect beads spiraled down like rifle rounds, every single one lit ablaze and bursting into flames upon their incredible impact.

And there in the middle... It would be a blizzard if it weren't on fire, it would be a cannonade if it weren't so loud. Whatever it was, Noir suffered through it all.

... Somehow managed to remain standing through the entire thing as well, Jun couldn't help but notice as he touched down from the skies, driving his spear into marble to extinguish it. His expression was touched of disbelief. "I don't believe this... Still standing?!"

Noir let out an enormous guffaw at the sound of the scribe's disbelief too, throwing his head back and laughing to nobody, or perhaps everybody. It looked like the force of even that simple action caused the beaten man to lose his balance though, tipping backwards slowly but inevitably until falling flat onto his back, the pulse of wind created extinguishing some of the inferno surrounding him. "Sweeper... This smelly shit is lamp oil isn't it? ... God dammit if you two aren't a pair of cunning bastards!" He laughed again, seemingly unbothered by the flames licking at his body. "Alright, alright... You two... You got me beat. F*ck! It was fun though, right? I had fun."

Jun collapsed at the admission of defeat and his victory, leaning against his weapon of choice and breathing more than one sigh of relief. "Not sure if I would use the word 'fun' when I write about it later..." The writer looked around the broken foyer with the conflict finally at its end, a shattered image of the picturesque beauty it was just before this whole business about a sword. The flames in the center of the room danced joyously in tune with the ones at its edges, started when the scribe had gone around breaking the lamps for their bounty of ammo earlier... And he just noticed that they were spreading. Slowly, as marble isn't really that flammable, but still the blaze was expanding as fire will always eventually, unstoppably, find a way. Even the immediate danger of that was pushed out of his mind by something else though. "Wait, Dayton! I forgot all about him in all the excitement-"

"So it wasn't fun but it was exciting?!"

"Aren't you supposed to pass out or something... Gavin! Where's Dayton?!"

[Terminally Chill]

As Noir finally collapsed in defeat, Gavin shared in a loud sigh of relief with Jun after realizing the windward duo had emerged victorious from the struggle. The musician's heartbeat returned to the tempo nature had originally assigned and the rapid tapping of his foot ceased. Battle-ready posture finally relaxing, Gavin gently set his guitar to the side before falling to one knee in an attempt to give his battered body a rest after the grueling ordeal he had put it through. Gavin breathed heavily as he placed his hand over his side, wincing as the pain of the stab wound took precedent over his other assorted injuries. For a second Gavin questioned whether sleeping it off would do the trick with these wounds, but that second was fleeting considering that is what he was planning on doing anyway.

“It was fun though, right? I had fun."

“Nah man, fighting is never fun for me,” Gavin said plainly in between his gasps for air. The bard's lazy green eyes could not help but be drawn to the fledgling blaze Jun had created in arming himself for the clever tactic used against Noir. However, the thought of burning alive in the foyer also suddenly vanished as soon as the scribe mentioned Dayton. It seemed they both had lost track of the apprentice blacksmith. Gavin's teeth ground together and the grip on his guitar's neck tightened as he searched the ruined room for any sign of the boy, but to no avail. Dayton was no where in sight.

“Gavin! Where's Dayton?!”

“I don't know man...” Gavin replied, taking one last deep breath and letting out a sigh. Not a sigh of relief, but more one of “what, a drag man.” Having apparently rested enough, Gavin forced himself from his knee with a heave. Placing his wooden weapon on his back once more, the guitarist stood with no signs of injury. A rare sense of determination could be seen in the eyes of the wanderer. “But we should probably go find him. I don't think the scary old guy would be happy if we lost him, man.”

Gavin's shaggy head turned toward Noir. Seeing as the disturbingly satisfied swordsman still had the will to talk, Gavin figured one more question couldn't hurt.

“Hey man. If you're still awake, did you see where Dayton went?”

Sure, asking the man who had just been your enemy in brutal combat for a favor was a long shot. However, the mercenary had only become their enemy because the Blanc had paid him. Considering Noir had lost the pivotal battle that much of the pale-haired entrepreneur's future financial success depended on, any further payment seemed questionable. Did the bounty hunter have much of a reason to remain loyal to Blanc now? Noir did say he and the ragtag pair of rumblers could have been friends under different circumstances...

[Tsin]

The flames in the foyer continued their waltz, a quickly growing amount of space falling prey to their passionate party. It didn't seem that anybody currently present and conscious in the room was too concerned about the conflagration though, discussing the whereabouts of the present and unconscious with some level of nonchalance. And, somehow still being able to throw his chips into the pile of "still-conscious", was Noir. Considering all that had happened to the sovereign of swift, blown apart by blood and sound on numerous occasions not to mention being on the receiving end of at least one kick and one clubbing, his being awake could have been designated as some sort of miracle... And he was still on fire, a fact that the young man did not seem to notice.

"The kid? He's probably still snoozin' where I knocked his ass out, right? Where else could he go."

"I thought it tasteful to take the torpid tyke to somewhere more tame." A voice (and a notable speech pattern) that hadn't been heard for quite some time suddenly reappeared to grace the ears of the tired combatants. Rojo, sitting comfortably on the railing of the balcony that Blanc had enjoyed before, nodded subtly to the others on the ground before slipping down from the elavated position to join them. True to his word, over one shoulder was the ragdoll form of Dayton, still slumbering somewhat peacefully after getting rudely bashed in the head right as the fight began.

... He didn't remain there for too long though, what with the foolhardy teen being tossed away right as the red-haired man slipped off his seat in the sky and into a blaze. "Oh god!" It was pretty noble really... Throwing Dayton away. And it probably would've been heralded as such by others if it just... didn't look so damn stupid at the same time. "Why is everything on fire?!"

However, like all good people who try to be cool, Rojo casually walked out of the blaze as if nothing had happened, the telling burn marks on expensive suit saying otherwise. "My slightly singed sibling, are you quite satisfied with this skirmish?"

"I'm slightly singed? You just rolled off that balcony into a fire, Rojo."

"Shut up! Nothing happened! You can't prove it!"

Jun figured it best to stay out of the sibling rivalry, dragging himself to his feet and traversing the blazing battlegrounds to check on the blacksmith's apprentice. "Aside from a nasty bruise on his head, either from earlier or from being thrown onto marble just now, he seems fine... It looks like we've won, Bla- Hey, where...?" Upon turning to gaze at the man in white however, the scribe only just now realized that the perch was empty, solely occupied by Noir's younger brother a moment ago.

"The opulent overseer departed a bit earlier... He stalled for a stormy spiel on the phone snail before persisting though."

"He ran off with the sword...?! And called somebody... I have a feeling that that won't bode well for any of us."

And as if on cue, there was a knocking at the door... Or rather more than a knocking. Truthfully, it would probably be better to decribe the noise as a pounding of fists. Repeatedly. With no small amount of yelling accompanying it as well. "This is the Marines! We received a call from this location about a break-in and fire! If anybody is inside, open these doors immediately and evacuate the building! Somebody bring the battering ram!"

That last note probably wasn't to the people inside... That didn't seem to comfort Jun, Noir or Rojo any though.

Indeed, that phone call was not boding well...

[Terminally Chill]

"The kid? He's probably still snoozin' where I knocked his ass out, right? Where else could he go."

Turning to the scorched swordsman, Gavin scratched his shaggy mop and gave some serious thought to Noir's rhetorical question. “I guess you're right, man...” the musician said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping just after the bold declaration he made before. After realizing that finding Dayton would take more than simply asking one question, the glimmer of determination in Gavin's eyes vanished as quickly as it had come. All he wanted now was a nap. Luckily the eloquent gentleman from earlier in the day emerged from Blanc's balcony, apprentice blacksmith slung over his shoulder. Rojo's deed was particularly noble, considering Dayton had mercilessly beat him down shortly before the trio had arrived.

Although the rarely kindled fire in Gavin had faded into sleepy embers, the blaze in the foyer was far from being distinguished. The guitarist began taking note of the growing flames as Rojo comically botched his grand descent from the balcony and engaged in a bit of good old fashioned sibling back-and-forth with Noir. In particular, one patch of flames in particular interested him. It was the blaze that was currently devouring his carelessly discarded hat and vest. Gavin gave a loud sigh, covering his face with his hand and not bothering to attempt to put out the articles of clothing. If they weren't ruined before, they definitely were now.

“Guess I need another hat...”

The situation was only worsening not only for Gavin and Jun, but the other two men Blanc had hired. Gavin listened as the red-haired wordsmith explained how the young businessman in the white suit had not only taken the prized sword, but made a mysterious phone call before departing. A sudden series of slams came from the door.

"This is the Marines!”

Gavin let out yet another sigh. He had lost his treasured top hat, Blanc had escaped with the sword the whole crazy fight was about, and now the Marines had showed up. They definitely were not catching any breaks. Although they had not particularly done anything wrong to deserve the Marines' ire, under the the circumstances the group was... suspicious, to say the least. And on top of all of that?

“Somebody bring the battering ram!"

“We don't have a battering ram, man!” They didn't have a damn battering ram. No battering ram at all! After making a fool of himself and alerting the Marines to his presence all in one rather loud and useless reply, Gavin turned to his scholarly ally and the suited (well, one was more half-suited) mercenaries. “So what do we do now, man?”

[Tsin]

There was a collective groan, if not an entirely audible one, from all conscious, present, and not-Gavin after he shouted back at the marines. Jun at least attempted to somewhat mask his disappointment at the occasionally dim musician by busying himself with the transport of Dayton's prone body though, managing to lift the lightweight rather easily despite his injuries. In comparison, Noir and Rojo elected to shake their heads sadly, directing twin gazes of piercing frustration right into the eyes of the acoustically talented man.

Luckily, they didn't bother keeping up that facade for too long. Noir had better things to be doing, letting out a second groan as he struggled to gather himself into a standing position. The flame of his recent defeat still burned brightly upon him, in a very literal manner, but somehow he continued to remain oblivious to it... Rojo didn't acknowledge the phenomenon either, the eager attempts to help his older brother to his feet being waved off.

"So what do we do now, man?"

Any concerns that Jun had about that would have to wait though as everybody converged upon Gavin, asking the billion-beri question that they all had wanted to. The earlier conflict had taken its toll on everybody, Noir sagging as he walked, Jun hunched over with the weight of Dayton upon him and Rojo... Well, Rojo was fine so no trouble there. Doubtless that just Rojo wouldn't be enough to do something about the force currently pounding at the front door with a battering ram though, and there was still the issue of Blanc and the Blade still yet to be resolved...

A plan was needed.

"Sweeper, how ya feelin'? Good? Up for a run?"

Jun glanced at the half-suited man who had tried, quite seriously, to kill him just minutes ago... The sudden concern was strange to say the least, but seemed genuine enough. "I suppose so... What choice will I have?"

A deafening thud interrupted the council as the marines slammed into the door again.

"Not just a run from the marines... I mean a serious run. Still got some juice in the tank like what you were speedin' around with before?"

"Ah... Well... I can try. Why?"

Another boom of the wooden doors, a splinter or two being shed despite its strength.

The half-clothed bounty hunter nodded to his fully-dressed sibling, who took it as his cue to continue take over the discussion. "We have only lingered a little since the leader left, and the corridors of this colossal castle aren't considerably complex. If you hurry and make haste, you may yet hook him."

"... You've got a gift there, Rojo. Really."

"Huh?"

A third thunderous roar from the front entrance, its might buckling a bit more every time.

"There is no sense in not trying but... What about Dayton? I doubt Tenk would be so kind to us if we returned with the blade but not the boy."

Noir nodded in acknowledgement of this fact and then turned his gaze over to Gavin, the form of his next question probably already taking shape in the bard's brain. "How about it then, Rocker? Got it in you to piggy-back the kid outta here?"

[Terminally Chill]

The sleepy musician paid no mind to the groans of disappointment, oblivious to any wrongdoing he had done in answering the Marines' request. Despite the faux pas on Gavin's part, the group began deliberating on an answer to the guitarist's earlier question. Gavin was often skilled at asking questions and giving to effort to answer them, hooded eyes lazily scanning the room as he struggled to keep interest in the discussion the blazing bounty hunter and wordy wordsmith were having with Jun. Somewhere amid the conversation of Jun's current ability to run, the first slam of the battering ram resonated through the burning foyer. The loud creaking of the grand wooden doors attracted Gavin's sleepy gaze.

“Oh, I guess they had a battering ram. That's good man,” Gavin said, a sense of relief in his voice. That was basically the only contribution the drifter would make to the important discussion of how to not only escape the Marines, but also the way in which they would retrieve the wrongfully-taken blade from Blanc's greedy hands. The blows against the door continued, Gavin watching as the door began to buckle against the mighty battering of the lawmen. Surely the men of the seagull would break into the mansion soon. Luckily, it seemed the conversation between the other three had devised some sort of working plan.

"How about it then, Rocker? Got it in you to piggy-back the kid outta here?”

The folk singer turned toward the man who had almost killed him minutes before, scratching his chin in thought. “Yeah I guess...” the musician muttered, taking a few noticeably stiff steps toward Jun and relieving the scholar of the apprentice blacksmith. Gavin carefully placed Dayton over his shoulder, making sure the boy was secure before turning back toward Noir and Rojo. “What about you guys, man? What are you going to do?”

[Tsin]

Jun turned his gaze towards now-empty balcony as Gavin removed the weight of a teenage boy from his possession, taking a moment afterwards to hop in place experimentally, gauging the current condition of his leg strength and stamina. "Doesn't look so high off the ground... I'm pretty confident that I can make it up there at least. What happens afterwards though..." No end to that sentence followed, a statement left unknown perhaps as a metaphor for the scribe's own ignorance of the future. He at least tried to account for all outcomes though, looking back at the super bounty brothers for one last question. "Anything else I should know?"

"Once you have fled this foyer for a more lofty locale, risking a return would be regretable. Explore efficiently until you have exposed your own exit, then escape."

"I might not see you again before this night's over Sweeper, but I will before our lives are, definitely. And when that happens... We'll all have some more fun, eh?"

A comment like that, from a man who was still currently bleeding and on fire from his last bout of "fun"... Well, Jun couldn't do anything but nod. Perhaps seeing Noir again wouldn't be so bad anyways. And with that in mind, the high-flying fighter was off, just a moment to build up some momentum and then up along the walls, dropping neatly onto the elevated ledge and vanishing from sight.

"What about you guys, man? What are you going to do?"

Another explosive thud interrupted the conversation from the area of the front door, definitely not more than one or two more blows left within the blazing wooden gate before it succumbed absolutely to the marine's advances. The hunter siblings didn't seem the least bit worried though, performing what seemed to be their respective takes upon becoming battle-ready. Noir, the flames burning upon his skin and remaining clothes seeming higher than a moment ago, twirled his sword and struck it against his sheath again, the very definition of 'firebrand' in his image as he walked towards the buckling entryway. "You're not gonna make it far how you are, Rocker, and with the kid on your back... So we'll clear the way, is what we're gonna do. As soon as the action starts, get the hell outta here. Got it?"

"Palliate our prior trespasses, performer. It was nothing personal of course." Rojo followed his brother, pulling his entire blade and its holder from his belt and holding it in his left hand, the knuckle of his thumb pressed up against the hilt-guard of the weapon. The unproven warrior of red locks, earlier beaten down by somebody much his junior, showed no fear and no hesitation...

Even as the front door finally gave in, oaken shrapnel spraying the both of them with it's stinging rain and a cold blast of fresh night air blowing away any lingering smoke, neither one twitched.

"A guitar playing musician, just as Mr. Blanc had described!" A half dozen marines, the vanguard of the sizable force still waiting outside, stormed into the foyer of the mansion and brandished their swords fiercely while others concentrated on the flames. "Surrender yourself and your scarved comrade immedi...at...ley..." The apparent frontman for the entire battalion couldn't get something out of the corner of his eye though. He allowed his head to turn slowly at the spectacle, losing focus upon the criminal for a moment. "... Er... Sir. Are you aware that you seem to be on fire?"

Noir looked around himself... and then grinned, twirling both weapons through his hands and letting off another combination of sparks and a piercing ring. "This isn't just a fire, pal. This is a Blaze of Glory!" Then he charged.

And Rojo followed.

And it probably would not be an exaggeration to say... that all hell broke loose.

[Terminally Chill]

After watching Jun skillfully bound up the wall and disappear through the balcony's archway, Gavin turned his attention back toward the pair of bounty hunting brothers. He gave them a nod, both in understanding of what he needed to do in the coming seconds but also that there were no hard feelings. The musician did not hold grudges and forgiveness came easily for him, even though the painful reminder of his battle against Noir continued to pain him. Even if Gavin did harbor ill will toward the brothers, there was no time to refuse their aid. At this point, Noir and Rojo were the guitarist's best shot at getting out of the mansion without going from a performer to a pin cushion for Marine sabers. With the siblings having drawn their blades, the door of the grand foyer finally splintered and collapsed, giving way to chilly night air and a battalion of Marines. Making sure Dayton was secure, Gavin readied his legs to carry his battered body through the demolished door. The enforcers of justice had already recognized the guitar-swinging songsmith as one of their targets, so all that was left to do now was to wait for Noir and Rojo to clear a path. Or rather, that would be the case if the flames burning brightly on the stronger of the two brothers was not causing a bit of confusion.

"... Er... Sir. Are you aware that you seem to be on fire?"

“Huh? I am...?” Gavin asked with a spacey tone, devoid of any of the confusion he seemed to be experiencing. The musician checked his clothes, looking on his person for any signs of the fire the Marine was talking about.

“This isn't just a fire, pal. Oooh yeah, he is. This is a Blaze of Glory! Wait... I don't get it, man.”

And with that, pandemonium consumed the foyer as the two mercenary brothers clashed with the whatever unlucky Marines had ventured inside. The gaping maw of Blanc's mansion was now the target, but fighting through the group of lawmen would be a challenge for Gavin even with his former enemies backing him up. The musician charged forward toward the awaiting night as fast as his wounds would allow him, rushing past the Marines who were being held off by Noir and Rojo. Unfortunately, the two hunters were unable to occupy the attention of all of the recruits. A few stray Marines were sure to notice the man they had come to apprehend fleeing. The gleam of a blade suddenly entered Gavin's vision from the right side, forcing the guitarist to suddenly stop in his tracks. Barely skidding to a stop in time to narrowly avoid a Marine's slash, Gavin winced as pain surged through his body. Moving freely after such a brutal conflict would be a challenge.

As he stepped backward to avoid the strike, another Marine took advantage and swung his sword from the left side. Gavin's eyes widened a bit, realizing that the attack could unintentionally harm Dayton. The musician dodged once again, failing to avoid all of the blade as the edge cut across his side. Attempting to ensure the safety of his own exhausted body in addition to Dayton was becoming nearly impossible. The first Marine charged forward from behind, aiming to plunge his blade into Gavin's back. The wanderer clumsily danced to the side, the skimming across his back and opening yet another cut. Gavin rotated away from his pursuer, quickly drawing his weapon of choice with one hand and managing to deflect the following attack. After pushing the Marine away, Gavin leaped backward once again to gain a bit of distance in the tiring conflict. The musician turned and looked over his shoulder at the darkened doorway to see the other Marines who were outside were beginning to join the fray. He then looked back to the Navy men beginning to surround him, teeth clenching and the grip on his guitar tightening.

The black-haired swordsman was right: the Six String Slinger was not going to last long in the shape he was in. With the men in white coming dangerously close to dealing a decisive blow to the young drifter, Rojo and Noir would definitely have to start putting the hurt on the Marines.

[Tsin]

Perhaps somehow spurred on by the prospect of more combat, or maybe in some way related to that self-described 'Blaze of Glory,' Noir was bringing much more to the party than anybody could have possibly expected. His carnage was immediate and merciless, twin weapons lashing wildly out at the few marines that had made it through the front door in that initial press. Most of those who didn't have their consciousness immediately taken away from them by searing sword or smashing sheath were pushed back outside by the bounty hunter's onslaught, deperately trying to shield themselves with their own blades. The shower of sparks and steel was relentless, as blinding as it was horrifying, and just when the officers could stand their ground no more...

Noir vanished, literally blazing a trail right past the enemy vanguard and diving headlong into the night and bulk of the marine unit. Panicked gunfire went off in all directions, a few more enforcers taken out of commission in friendly-fire incidents.

And in reaction to all of this chaos... Rojo simply sighed, calmly doubling back to clean up the dregs that his older brother had left standing in the foyer. "Forgive my fraternal family member, fellows. And forgive me, of course." Their eyes previously pointed outside and onto the wildfire currently making a mess of their unit, the men who formed the Marine marine forward force now turned to the warrior of red hair, staring at him in disbelief instead, that he could be so nonchalant about the wanton bloodless violence taking place at this very moment. It only took a moment for them to gather their wits though, charging at their new adversary with weapons brandished.

Rojo slid one of his legs backwards, opening up his posture significantly and taking a steady stance upon the pale stone floors. His body did not flinch nor his will flicker in the face of approaching servicemen, as if the sturdy spirit of the ground beneath him flowed through his limbs and body. Perfectly still, second by second, moment by moment, watching the approach of his enemies the patience of a boulder... Then...

In contrast to Noir, Rojo wasted no movements. He did not run in combat, nor did he leap; there was no wild fury of sword and sheath or sparks and flames of any kind. The younger sibling moved simply and efficiently without even drawing his katana, as if following a mental guidebook of some kind: Deflect the first marine's blade and push him off balance. Sidestep the next one and force his weapon into the dirt. Around the third and fourth and nudge them into each other. Parry the fifth and use his sword to divert the first man again. It was a clearly practiced and impressively precise series of actions, culminating in the man finally flicking his thumb out and exposing just a single half-inch of polished, sharpened steel. Then, with barely a flash of his blade in the fire-light of the blazing mansion, a single wide slash split their skin and sprayed a bit of blood into the air, dispatching all five opponents in a single strike.

"Annoying assailants..."

Fighting as he was and with more marines incoming, it would probably take quite some time for the red-haired bounty hunter to ever catch up to and defend the escaping musician. He could only hope that his actions would draw most of the fire onto himself, acting as a sponge for the attention of the marines.

Noir, on the other hand, in all his explosively swift glory, had no such worries or speed restrictions. His half-clothed form burst back into the burning building, tearing across the marble expanse on a collision course for one of the marines bothering Gavin. He dipped slightly when approaching, then launched himself back up as he plowed right through the unsuspecting lawman, lifting his target slightly into the air with force of his entire body. It was only a tiny bit of height gained, but more than enough for the hunter to follow it up with a smashing left handed clubbing, rocketing the first marine straight into and through the second.

"What're you waiting for, somebody to hold your hand?! Get the hell outta here!"

Harsh words to be sure, but it was all their lives on the line here... Or at least their livelihood. Somebody was gonna have to pick up the pace.

[Terminally Chill]

“What're you waiting for, somebody to hold your hand?! Get the hell outta here!”

Gavin blinked a few times at the dark-haired swordsman, his mind still attempting to catch up from witnessing the sudden blur that had skillfully dispatched the two Marine aggressors. Noir certainly possessed frightened stamina. In the brawl that had set the mansion ablaze, the half-suited hunter had sustained injuries that surpassed Gavin's own, yet here he was carving a path through the Marine ranks and even saving the musician's skin. However, now was not the time to be impressed. Nor was it the time to assure Noir that no, Gavin definitely was not waiting for somebody to hold his hand, as the guitarist thought of doing. Instead of replying to the rhetorical question, Gavin simply gave his adversary-turned-ally a quick nod before rushing forward once more with Dayton thrown over his shoulder. With their contrasting chaos, the brothers had managed to divert the attention of the Marine forces enough to clear a path. Some Marines did take an interest in Gavin, but the Six String Slinger would not allow them to hamper him. The few Marines that did engage Gavin were clubbed with his guitar after brief moments of wood clashing against steel in his continued dash, falling to the ground in unconscious heaps. The musician came closer to the doorway, eyes flickering to each side as both the blaze and battle raged on and bodies dressed in white continued to hit the marble floor from Noir and Rojo's combined efforts.

Seeing that Gavin was nearing freedom from the foyer's inferno, a couple of Marines at the entrance who had already received searing slashes from Noir struggled to stand, sabers supporting their frames. “We won't let you get away, guitarist!” one of the navy men said through clenched teeth, his pain burdening him to the point where he had trouble lifting his sword. Gavin merely continued his run, bringing his guitar to his front while making sure to keep Dayton balanced on his shoulder.

“Sorry man, I don't have time for you guys! Red Composition: ...” Gavin yelled out to the Marines, bringing his hand into the air as he held the guitar by the neck in a position to play a song. “... Unstrung Serenade!” The performer brought his hand down, strumming hard across the strings and sending a single chord resonating through the whole foyer. A sudden wave of sound exploded from the guitar, screaming across the smooth floor and sent the the last injured line of defense skipping across the mansion's lawn. Gavin gracefully stepped over flames and fallen bodies on his way out into into the cool night air.

“Thanks man!” the folk singer called back to the two brothers, hoping they could hear his gratitude over the sounds of fierce battle and roaring flames. Gavin continued on into the night, breathing as his lungs and wounds began to burn from his flight. However, the musician began taking a strange, arced path as opposed to just running in a straight line. In fact, he was making a complete loop... and now running straight back toward the mansion. Gavin entered the ruined doorway for an unexpected second time.

“Hey man!” He called to either of the bounty hunter siblings, continuing to jog in place at the doorway. “... Where am I even taking him?” Gavin asked, taking the time to nonchalantly smack a recovering Marine on the head with his guitar as he waited for some sort of answer.

[Tsin]

Gavin's circuit through the yard had accomplished nothing, save for stirring no small amount of confusion in the marines still placed out there. Most of the men left after Noir's earlier rampage were currently equipped with buckets and hoses, having arrived expecting to combat a fire rather than any sort of person. That sure didn't stop them from staring at the clueless musician as he ran around though, some of the men-in-white even stepping aside for the singer as he passed, seemingly oblivious to the existence of all those other people, dressed exactly the same as those trying to detain him earlier.

Regardless, the guitarist's stupefying effect carried him back into the manor without incident, where he would find that... pretty much everything was as he left it, the place burning to high hell. It was probably fit to upgrade the incident from "house-fire" to "inferno" now too, with towering flames engulfing all four walls and the term 'compromised structural integrity' springing to mind.

Well... Probably only for Jun if he were still here, and maybe Rojo. Noir mostly likely preferred 'shit's comin' down' in his mind.

"Hey man! ... Where am I even taking him?"

And yet, somehow over the constant crackle of the blaze and the sporadic crash of a torched support beam falling, Gavin's voice was heard clearly by everybody present: both bounty hunters and all 6 marines still left standing. Perhaps it was a testament to his impressive singing voice, or maybe the amazing acoustics he had been appreciating earlier... Either way, now that he was the focus of attention...

"The guitarist! GET HIM!"

... The remaining lawmen certainly were not going to let that slip away. The brothers become ignored almost instantly, the half-dozen soldiers turning and lunging at the somewhat defenseless singer, their expressions hungry for justice.

"Rojo!"

"Right!" Even before the enemies could finish their leap though, the flame-haired warrior had arrived between them and their prey, standing steady and stable as if he had never moved at all. Fearlessly, his blade and its sheath slid from his belt, the still-encased katana brandished without menace or fury, simply... control. And that control was exhibited to the grandest effect, the marine swords arriving slightly one after another and each one being treated to a savagely complex series of deflections. The end result: All six sabers seemed to be threaded and woven into each other, a vast tapestry of steel securing all the weapons into a combined deadlock.

"Wh-What the hell?! Guys, pull this thing apart!"

No matter how much the men tugged though, it was futile. Especially with Noir approaching at speed, both weapons scything through the air on both sides, something he kept up right until the moment he cut through all six mired marines in one swift pass. "Always gotta clean up your messes, Rojo... Guess it's the job of a big bro! Hah!" The officers, their pristine white uniforms now shredded and blackened by the edge of Noir's Firebrand, fell behind him, collapsing into an unconscious heap. "And you! Get the hell outta here already! Take him- Shit, I dunno- that damn old man's shop or whatever! He lives there or something right?" The still blazing bounty hunter prodded at Gavin lightly with his scorching sword, trying to lightly 'encourage' him out the door...

"Remarkably reckless to return so rapidly, Rocker." Rojo joined in with his brother's effort, albeit in a more peaceable manner by using his hands rather than something pointy.

Of course, once the trio had made it out of the quickly crumbling foyer, all those marines from earlier with their hoses and buckets... Well, a sword was never far from a soldier's belt. And now, all those swords quite close at hand and patiently awaiting somebody to show themselves.

Noir sighed at the sight of them, as if he had just found something annoying rather than lost a great deal of hope. "Don't you dare come back this time, Rocker. Alright?! Just... run to the gate at least. Get into the city; It'll be hell tracking you through that if they even make it that far. Then wake up the kid or something if you get lost. Rojo! You ready for round 2?"

"Equipped and eager."

And with everything but a pistol shot, the two marathon rumblers were off! The confusion this time was no less than it was before and certainly enough for a single man to slip through... mostly... unnoticed.

[Terminally Chill]

Continuing to run in place, Gavin watched with his usual clueless gaze as the sibling swordsmen dealt with the remaining marines with using their starkly different styles. Amid the carnage of soldiers strewn across the scorched marble floor, the musician simply waited for some sort of direction without any hint of urgency in his expression. With his usual abrasive speech, Noir turned his attention toward Gavin after having dealt with the lawmen.

“Take him- Shit, I dunno- that damn old man's shop or whatever! He lives there or something right?”

Gavin scratched his noticeably-bare mop of shaggy hair and appeared to be unfazed by Noir and Rojo's poking and prodding during his thought. “Yeah man, that's a pretty good idea,” the guitarist said, nodding as though he had been the one who came up with simple idea. Gavin's lazy jade eyes looked back, noticing that the marines he had dumbfounded earlier were now taking an interest in the trio considering their brethren in the foyer had been turned into unconscious heaps on the floor. Many of them had ceased their efforts of dousing the roaring fire and had instead drew their sabers in preparation for yet another clash with the bounty hunter kin.

“Don't you dare come back this time, Rocker. Alright?!”

After listening to the dark-haired hunter's demands, the folk singer gave a reaffirming nod and a waving motion to dispel any thoughts that he would return to the blazing mansion. “Don't worry man, I definitely won't come back. I mean, I don't want you guys to freak out but... I'm pretty sure this place is on fire.”

Not bothering to go into an in-depth explanation about all of the things wrong with what Gavin had said, the two men formerly under the employment of Blanc charged forward to dispatch of yet another battalion of marines. The songsmith and his six strings did not follow the initial explosion, shaking out his aching legs before bursting forward into the ensuing chaos. The second attempt at breaking away from the group of lawbringers was already finding success, Gavin dodging and weaving around bodies clothed in pristine white. A few stray sword swings forced the guitarist to duck, but soon Gavin was able to find his way out of the mass of marines with Dayton slung safely over his shoulder. Ignoring the protests from a few of the soldiers who were not busy being slashed and scorched, the wandering performer bounded across the neatly trimmed lawn that surrounded the white-suited entrepreneur's dwellings and toward town. Gavin cast one last glance at the mansion burning brightly against the night sky.

“Later days, Mansion of Doom.”

[Tsin]

The rough jostling that Dayton was getting while laid out across one of the musician's shoulders, with only the utmost care mind you, was probably running just shy of violent at this point. It was at no fault of Gavin's though, having to weave expertly amongst his enemies with a miraculous grace that nobody could have guessed he was still capable of. Of course, it helped that his two allies in black were making such a mess of the marine army, their binary brands scorching and slicing with incredible expertise.

The aforementioned shaking though, there was no doubt that the harsh treatment would be enough to wake the dead much less a child just unconscious. And so it was, that while the duo was making their escape and just reaching the front gates...

"Later days, Mansion of Doom."

"What... We're leavin' already...?"

... Dayton's voice finally spoke up again. He started fidgeting, pretty incomfortable with where-ever-the-hell he was at the moment, which gradually evolved into stirring and then again into flailing until the bard was forced to drop him onto the grass, still overall confused with the entire scenario. "Gavin...? Y'know why my neck hurts so much...?" The apprentice blacksmith forcefully shook away the cobwebs obscuring his higher mental functions next, freeing up enough of his brain's processing power to evaluate the appearance of his musically inclined friend. "Holy crap Gavin! What happened to you?! Looks like a seaking's been chewin' on ya, y'know?!"

"Coming through!"

It was, at this point, that the third party member made his reappearance, even if only one of the two others was aware of where he had gone... Or that he was gone at all. Jun Lokuan, back from his solo adventure, somehow seemed to arrive onto the scene from above the other two young men, hitting the ground running. That didn't last for more than a couple steps though, the usually-limber lancer slamming into the grace and rolling a few feet to the cobblestone pathway. His own polearm somehow managed to stay attached to his body; the sword he had been sent to retrieve was not so lucky... Or perhaps it was even more so, flipping up into the air still within its sheath and landing right in front of the boy who had inherited it. "Was a bit higher than it looked- Ow..."

"Jun?!" Instinctively snatching up the Sleeping Lion before rushing over to his other comrade, Dayton grabbed the fallen man by the arm and tried to help pull him to a stand. It... didn't seem like the kid's help was really all that needed... or helpful even, but either the scribe wasn't the type to draw attention to it or he had something much more important to talk about.

Like, "Oh hey Dayton; Glad you're up. Gavin- Marines at the back door too, they absolutely saw me jump from Blanc's roof. Let's get moving before they catch up!"

And it seemed like this random burst of information had done nothing to clear up Dayton's confusion. "W-what?! Why would you jump from the ro-Whoa!" The swift scribe didn't wait around to answer any questions though, grabbing the previously unconscious by his arm this time and sprinting into the streets. Being pulled still didn't stop the fledging swordsman from yelling out questions though. "Gavin, what the hell happened?!"

It was late in the island market of pirates with night having fallen at least an hour ago. But, with pirates being pirates and all, the streets still weren't quite perfectly empty, a few late shoppers trying to catch the last deals and a couple early drunkards getting a head-start on their nightly festivities. Not the perfect conditions to lose some law enforcement pursuers admittedly, if there were any to speak of even, but it would have to do.

[Terminally Chill]

Soon after Dayton made his consciousness and confusion known, Gavin was forced to drop the soot-stained apprentice to the neatly-trimmed grass that surrounded Blanc's blazing mansion. The musician gave Dayton a cheerful wave after the dazed kid had recognized the identity of his carrier. As Dayton questioned his neck pain, Gavin rubbed his own neck after being freed of carrying the young blacksmith and thought of some way to tell the kid that he had been karate chopped in the neck and then left on the floor for the majority of a life-and-death struggle. Even if those words would have sufficed, Dayton's second question was fired off in rapid succession before Gavin managed to answer the first. The guitarist looked down and examined the condition of his body and clothes for the first time since the skirmish against Noir; the seaking analogy was fitting.

“Well–”

"Coming through!"

The slim figure of Jun Lokuan suddenly descending from above, his landing devoid of the usual grace as he soon tumbled forward to meet with the other two members of the delivery party. Gavin's hazy jade eyes followed the aerial path of the treasured sword for a moment before looking back to his scholarly companion. “Hey Jun,” Gavin said, greeting Jun despite his unorthodox entrance and the fact that they were still in flight from the Marine forces.

“Gavin– Marines at the back door too, they absolutely saw me jump from Blanc's roof.”

Gavin let out a sigh as the scribe made the urgency of the situation clear once again, looking back for a moment before forcing his burning legs forward for yet another mad dash. At least they were all together again, Sleeping Lion and all. However, as Dayton was tugged along by Jun in a sprint he was still baffled as to what had occurred while he was incapacitated.

"Gavin, what the hell happened?!"

Scratching his stubbled chin, Gavin attempted to recall the intense series of events that had put them into this situation. Although memory was not the wanderer's strong suit, painful memories were harder to forget. After all, Gavin could relate to being completely lost.

“Uhhh... You ran at that guy with the shades and then he smacked you and knocked you out, man. Then Jun and I had to fight him and we beat him but then the dude in the white suit took off with your sword and called the marines. Oh and everything got set on fire, man.” Gavin took a moment to take a breath. “So then the guy with the shades and that one with the red hair you beat up – they're brothers by the way – ended up being good guys and helped me get you out of the mansion and then Jun went and... Um...” It appeared Gavin's vague summary had hit a snag, the drifter scratching his head as his shabby sandals slapped against asphalt on the way past stray denizens of the night.

“... Where did you go, man?”

[Tsin]

Jun did not let the kid down slowly following his initial burst of speed, although Dayton admirably managed to remain upright stumbling forward and flailing his arms in all directions. It seemed as if he'd definitely be kissing the asphalt at least a couple of times during that outburst, but eventually the apprentice found some stability and put on the speed, keeping pace with his two friends and saviors. It was a good thing that he managed to stay standing too, with Gavin going on about the night's amusing escapades while the trio cut through the city streets... Wouldn't want to miss an informative and entertaining story like that.

As illuminating as the instrumentalist's tale was though, it would always only be half of a tale. "Where did you go, man?"

The scribe fell into line with his fellow runners and allowed Dayton to take the lead, his intentions and the intentions of the amazing bash brothers being apparently identical. "I was going to find Blanc and meet you two back at the shop with the sword, but he wasn't anywhere to be found. Just a series of hallways back there. I found the weapon discarded on the ground while exploring then tried to find a back door except--"

Jun paused for a moment at this point to twirl around a lady of the night, who didn't hesitate to voice her disapproval of the sudden rush. "Watch what the hell ya doin!"

Unperturbed, the writer pressed on with his run and his report. "--the marines were standing around out there trying to put out the fire. Chased me around a bit until I arrived upon the roof, and from there I took a leap of faith and ended up near you two."

"You two are the craziest guys I've ever met, y'know that?!" Dayton, silent up until now except for the slap of his sneakers against the pavement, finally found a moment to voice his admiration. "Fighting the marines, setting mansions on fire and jumping from rooftops...! Wait 'til Mr. Tenk hears about it!"

"Well, it's not as if we do this every day--"

"We're here, come on! Get inside!"

The apprentice practically ripped open the doorway to the place that has been his home for the past few months, allowing the pair trailing him to blow through the space and into the building like a hurricane. Jun skid to a stop on the heels of his boots and inhaled as if he had never had the satisfaction of breathing air before, then exhaled as if he didn't like it afterall, and finally, just collapsed onto his ass and leaned his back against the now-closed doorway, Dayton slipping in just fractions of a second beforehand.

And Mr. Tenk, the grizzled veteran of the hammer and anvil, just sat upon the chair behind his shop's counter, a smouldering pipe dangling from his mouth and a newspaper in his hands. He didn't even bother to look up from the thing when he spoke. "Hah... All three of ya are still alive. Didn't see that comin', I will admit... And the kid's got the sword. Saw some smoke on the horizon. Guessin' Neckware and Hobo aren't completely innocent from whatever the hell that's about."

The old man rustled his paper after having said his piece and folded it up slowly, a plume of gray rising up around his head. There was a rare smile hidden in those smoke stained lips as he looked up at the gathered trio. Maybe the codger would finally have something other than in insult in mind. "... So what did I say I've give ya for a job well done? Figure you two came close enough!" Well... Close enough indeed.