[M27] Corpses of Ancient Times; Blood and Chains [Scarlette]

[Tokoz]

     The melting ice dripped slowly on the entrance paving stones. Flynn Toctic, Captain of the CHIMERA Unit, stood in the first chamber of the ruins. He had found records of a planned archeological dig to this mostly abandoned island, looking for the remains of those who had once lived here. Apparently, there was suspicion about a lost temple guarding some kind of secret. 

    While it might be nothing, it was possible there might be something of use. If not, it was best to keep whatever it was away from the pirates that lived on the island. Rubbing his hands together, he set about brushing the ice and snow off his heavy coat, thankful that the underground place was somewhat warmer, at least. Perhaps there was geothermal vents open. Based on the types of nonsense usually associated with such places, though, he was honestly expecting lava.

Looking around, he frowned at the carvings on the walls, observing how the hall ahead lead to another room. Lifting a hand, he activated his flamethrower, cupping a ball of flame and lit a torch sitting on the wall. Holding it, he began to read the inscriptions, before pausing. That noise outside... Someone else was coming. 

[Vio]

ⁱ

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“Oaaaaaah~!” she yawned. Normally quite lethargic anyway, the chill climate of this sheer island did not help Grimm-Rosa Scarlette’s fatigued state at all.

Amidst the whiteness of the world, she was a distinct soot-coloured silhouette – a thin woman of decent height somewhat protected from the elements by a knee-length parka lined with snowy pelt. A slightly sliced and burnt length of red fabric protruded from beneath the hem, fluttering slightly about knee-high boots as she walked. A dark chocolate eye looked lazily over the stonework as she entered, more out of wandering and curiosity. The other remained concealed behind off-white gauze; wrappings that had once served as wound dressings that remained, forming a headband of sorts overlapped by raven hair.

Skree… Skraa… Metal scraped against stone and ice. Scarlette’s head tilted lazily. One hand – bare and pale and marked with many slight and narrow scars – reached up behind her, wrapping about steel the colour of a starless night sky. The metal was cold, keen against her fingers as she adjusted the hefty halberd, secured to her back by a set of leather straps which held tight the iron clamps. But even they, forged of cast iron, showed signs of scarring.

Ignorant of the slight trace of red upon her fingers as she drew them from the steel, the dark-haired damsel entered proper the warm yet ruined remnants. History’s fingerprint, yet she cared not for what she saw. Even as she entered the site, her eye barely registered the presence of another – a lean figure in white who cast firelight. With a distinctly slothful turn of the head, she peered at the figure; stared right through him, reading him. Her lip curled slightly, briefly, in recognition of something.

^{“Who… Oah~!” Scarlette yawned:
“Who are you…?”}

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[Tokoz]

A young woman entered the cave, looking rather... interesting, to say the least. She was dressed quite grimmly, and carried a massive weapon, a halberd. She also appeared to have spent some period of time sleeping in a meat grinder, if the numerous and frankly frightening scars on her were any indication. She didn't seem to be a Marine, but it was possible she was some sort of Bounty Hunter. Equally likely was a Pirate or Revolutionary, but she was almost certainly a fighter of some sort. 

 She yawned, and then inquired to his identity. Quirking an eyebrow, he turned to face her fully. He wasn't wearing typical Marine apparel, his wide labcoat and fully-brimmed hat unusual, but the color scheme and marking were unmistakably those of the Navy. So, if she had some issue with that, it was hardly possible to lie now. 

"Doctor Flynn Toctic. I'm a scientist, and a Marine Captain. I'm investigating these ruins. Who might you be?"

Glancing back at the carvings, he hummed for a moment. From the looks of it, although he was guessing quite a bit, this place was meant to have multiple people go through. It had several small groups, 2-5, all standing before the entrance but clearly separate. There was three large panels, which had faded somewhat, and then somewhat generic scenes of danger inbetween. Three major challenges, with other traps inbetween? There was a final, larger mosaic, but what was on there was somewhat incomprehensible to him.

 The only clear part was the center, where a figure in armor, bearing a long sword, stood radiating light atop a pile of something. "Hmm. Unless I miss my guess, there's a treasure here, then..."

[Vio]

ⁱⁱ

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A Captain in the World Navy…? Grimm-Rosa Scarlette’s interest was somewhat piqued. Though direct encounters with the Marines had been few and far between in her past ventures, the one time she had clashed directly with their commanding officers, it had been brutal. The Captain – whose name she could not recall – had been just one of many obstacles in what could well have been her final stand on Eldoran. Now? Well, she had few opinions on Marines anyway. She saw no issue with answering him.

“Grimm-Rosa, Scarlette,” she replied.

This man – this ‘Flynn’ seemed to be musing over the various mosaics and etchings upon the inner walls of these ruins. Such archaic imagery never really caught her attention. Though her lethargy was still dominant, the currently unidentified ‘Red Terror’ was more interested in this tall, slender enigma. How had it been described to her? Like a magnetic field, she recalled; and she could feel a comparatively weak but nonetheless substantial emanation from this person.

“Oaah~! Treasure…? That’s nice,” Miss Grimm-Rosa yawned. Neither fame nor fortune had even been of interest to her. Even less so now, for her view of the world had so drastically changed in those six months spent on Mullyssa Nemo. Wearily, she approached the cavern wall to take a gander, placing herself within what many a criminal might have considered to be a dangerous striking range. Then again, as far as she was aware, he didn’t even recognise who she was. She was supposed to be considered dead, anyway…

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[Tokoz]

Hmm. Grimm-Rosa Scarlette. An interesting name. He never really understood the tendency to hyphenate first names, but to each their own. It sounded vaguely familiar for some reason, but he wasn't sure why. Shrugging slightly, he nodded. "A pleasure, I'm sure. Well, I tend not to have a tremendous amount of use for most treasure, but there may be something of interest here for me, nonetheless."

He noted her staring at him, and hummed for a moment, vaguely curious as to why. Was she after the treasure? Was she wondering about why he looked like this? .... Oh god, she better not be eyeing him up. That was NOT something he had any wish to deal with. The last time he had a woman actively flirt with him first, she had punched him in the stomach and tried to put him in a gladiator ring. Apparently she later got lost at sea. Oh no, what a terrible tragedy.  

Thankfully, her statement seemed to dissuade him from that belief. She was rather lacksadasical about this. Walking over, she stared at the wall next to him. He kept looking for a moment longer, before shrugging. "Well, as I have no real desire to go back out into the cold any time soon, and nothing better to do than check this out, I would suggest we walk and talk. I'm perfectly happy to split or indeed, give you a majority portion of the treasure. As I said, it's not of much interest to me." Turning, he began to walk into the temple, looking around. The very next room seemed mostly empty, save for the statues on the walls. They appeared to all be screaming, mouths open. How ridiculous looking. 

[Vio]

ⁱⁱⁱ

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As Flynn walked ahead, Scarlette followed, but not before giving the ancient etchings a confused frown. Mister Toctic was the first to step into the next room, looking around as he did so, and it was only as she followed him in that she too spied the statues. The chamber itself was quite dim, sucking up whatever illuminations graced its architecture. Dark eyes narrowed upon the statues – rock so well carved that it’s craftsmanship was also it’s ticket into the uncanny valley. They reminded her slightly of her Homunculi.

However, where a Homunculus was just a walking puddle of bloody ooze, these statues actually had more than just empty, inky eyes. They had gaping mouths, stretched jaws and sunken features. She didn’t bother to count them, nor pay much mind to them, instead walking towards the middle of the room. There appeared at least to be a doorway on the other side, though so little made it that far that she could not perceive what was beyond the arch.

L’Hydre Vorace’s head scratched at the floor.

^{“Hmm,” Miss Grimm-Rosa sighed:
“You’re such a nuisance…”}

^Shraa…

Once more, she raised her arm and wrapped her fingers about the weapon’s tail. She could feel the slight trace of warmth where her blood had been drawn previously by the weapon’s thirsting edge. She wondered briefly – as she readjusted the sharpened steel’s weight – if her company had even noted the fact her hand was bleeding. Apparently, the black blade was suddenly stricken by one of its trademark ravenous hungers, and was quickly getting rather aggressive in its attempts to escape its binds.

It was only as she took her hand – now cut lightly a second time across the palm and fingers – away from the weapon, that she realised. A part of the floor she stepped on moved, just enough for her passing focus to notice…

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_{Grimm-Rosa Scarlette (960018)}

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[Tokoz]

The young woman followed him in, her massive scythe carried with her. The large object seemed awkward to carry in this confined space, not that Flynn was tremendously better off. His height meant that most ceilings were a lot closer for him than average. Thankfully, the variable size of most people meant that a lot of buildings were quite large. 

With a scraping noise, the weapon scratched on the floor, and his eyes flicked back to her for a moment. Her hand was bleeding, and from the scars on her, he got the sense it wasn't the first time. That weapon...

Flynn was quite in touch with steel. He had worked and twisted it, let it dance to his tune. Formed it into a thousand thousand intricate and precise shapes. He was well tuned to it's intracacies. He might not be a swordsman, not exactly, but he knew weapons much as a trained swordsman would. That scythe was bloody, oppressively so. It seemed to almost twitch in the direction of the bleeding palm, a feral ravening beast. Supressing a shiver, he barely noticed the sudden shifting in the floor. A pressure plate?

"Get down!"

Arrows spat out of the walls, firing from the statues mouthes and other concealed parts of their body. Flynn spun up his chainsaws and whirled them about, smacking arrows aside and cutting them up as they flew towards him. Thankfully, it was only a few from each side, but still enough to be annoying. Glancing back, he adjusted his hat and spoke to Scarlette. 

"Are you okay? Watch your step, I suppose. Also, do you require a bandage for that?" He pointed to her bleeding wounds, cocking an eyebrow as he looked down the hall to the next doorway, already starting to walk. 

[Vio]

^iv

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Flynn’s call had barely reached her ears when the room erupted with the sound of arrows piercing the stagnant air. To predict what lacked intent was an impossibility, but a few meagre projectiles weren’t a threat. The first whizzed by, just inches in front of her face, as a second – approaching from the opposing side – crashed into L’Hydre Vorace. Black steel split the dart clean down the middle, not even slowing it as its two halves veered apart from one another. One arrow bit her arm, just shy of her shoulder, but for the most part Scarlette was able to dodge what she could see. With a flick of her wrist, she batted the final one aside, knocking it away from an otherwise deadly shot through the eye.

The Captain queried as the noise of whooshing arrows and whirring metal died.

^{“I’m fine,” she replied lazily:
“Bandages for…? Oh.”}

Glancing at her own hand, she noted the slow creep of blood again. Such was her lethargic state; the ‘Red Terror’ cared little for injury of any magnitude. These petty cuts – spawned by the edge of her own weapon no less – were nothing to worry about. She shook her head, slow and dismissive.

^{“Don’t worry, Doctor Toctic.”
Matter-of-fact were her intonations.
“Light cuts aren’t a big deal.”}

I’ll admit, he reacted quickly. I’m not quite sure what he is thought… Some sort of Ability User, like me? His true origins and abilities unknown to her, Scarlette’s only road of understanding for whatever it was Flynn had just done was that of the Devil’s Fruit. Supernatural powers oft came from the consumption of such morsels, though she could not say she had not seen other unnatural, inhuman power without their accursed aid. Fishmen, as she had personally experienced, could also tap into bizarre abilities. But what was this? This man with long arms, horns and the power to shred with noisy teeth upon his palms? Now she was interested…

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_{Grimm-Rosa Scarlette (960018)}

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[Tokoz]

As Flynn watched, Scarlette rose easily to the occasion, dealing swiftly with the arrows with a frankly worrying amount of reaction speed. Flynn used Creachadoir, watching her muscles move and body flex, and a small frown creased his lips. Based on her speed and skill in reacting to his words, as well as walking around with that weapon, she was at least as experienced as him, if not notably more so. 

 She seemed to only notice the cuts on her hand for the first time, staring at them lethargically as she walked forward. A brief dismissal, and they moved forward. As they walked into the next room though, something odd happened. Flynn's chainsaws twitched forward. Just a tad. 

Only problem was, he hadn't activated them at all. 

From behind was the odd, oppressive aura of that scythe, a strange resonance he had only ever experienced from a blade or two. Items of high quality, powerful weapons. Now, though, it was as though something else had snapped at the voracious blade. A sleepy, imperious snap, pushing back against the bloody hunger of the blade. And it was coming from his hands. Or more specifically, what was around them.

Flynn stopped, and flexed his palms for a moment, nervously. It felt like the deeper they were getting into this place, the odder things got. 

The next room they entered had a number of tiles across the floor showing a person with a sword, each marked with a different stance and motion. Around the walls was a mosaic, showing a swordsman facing the other direction, making a series of motions of his own. 

[Vio]

^v

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“Swordsmen…,” Grimm-Rosa Scarlette muttered, singular in her analysis. She was somewhat more aware of her surroundings now – enough to notice the unusual parallels portrayed in the ancient artistry. Once more, the room seemed devoid of anything interesting, presenting an eerily clear path to the next chamber. A small frown revealed the woman’s awareness that this wasn’t the case.

^{“Ugh! This is boring…,” she groaned:
“What’s with old people and puzzles!?”}

^Shwew…!

Within the blink of an eye, Scarlette vanished, darting across to the other side at blinding speed. She cared not for such trivial traps, no matter how interesting and elaborate they might have been. While such genius might impress some, it did nothing for her. If anything, she was more intrigued by what lay at the end – more intrigued by the man that accompanied her. But as she halted her superhuman burst of speed, something shifted.

^Kerplunk!

“I am… glad I stopped,” was about all her mind could make. Right before her, the archway leading to the next chamber had been sealed tight by a wall of patterned stone. It had dropped from an unseen slot, displacing sandy dust and air as it had dropped. An odd chill crawled through her body as realisation settled in. That could have crushed her had she not abandoned her speed that fraction of a second earlier. A wince of annoyance appeared as she turned back, facing Flynn, and reluctantly said: “So… Speed won’t cut it. We have to solve this to move on…?”

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[/i] (“Quickstep”)[/b]
By moving her legs at high speed, mirroring the steps of a swift dance, Scarlette can achieve bursts of speed far faster than her swiftest sprint. For those who are quick enough to track her movements, she becomes little more than a blur as she covers dozens of yards’ distance in fractions of a second.[/font][/sup]

Starring…

_{Grimm-Rosa Scarlette (960018)}

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[Tokoz]

Flynn looked around the room, examining the carvings in the wall with interest. It seemed to be some sort of martial kata. Interestingly, however, it didn't quite match up with all the symbols on the floor. They portrayed different moves altogether. He was just about to say something to Scarlette, when the young woman vanished in a blur of speed. 

She was almost to the door when it suddenly slammed shut. A massive wall of stone blocked the egress, sealing it tightly. Scrunching his face up, Flynn hissed. "Well. I suppose they had that planned for. Alright then...."

Looking around again, he considered the poses on the wall. The first one was a overhead strike. However, there was no overhead strike on the first row of panels. There was, however, an overhead block. Perhaps the answer was not to match... but to respond in kind. 

"I think... we need to match the moves on the wall to the corresponding counter or block." 

He considered the continuing pattern, frowning. "This may be tough, however. I do not know much about swordsmanship. Still... I think if we work together, we can figure it out." The first block was obvious enough. 

Stepping forward hesitantly, he stepped onto the panel, and it sank slightly. Up ahead, there was a grinding, and then a thunk from behind the door, although it did not open. "Hmm. Well, that could be good or bad. Next..." The next symbol was a forward slash. 

"Thoughts, Scarlette?"

[Vio]

^vi

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“This would be much easier if someone was actually swinging a sword at me,” Miss Grimm-Rosa replied, noting her company’s actions and the query that followed. He was right that neither of them were swordsmen, but swordsmanship was a common practise in the world at large. She had seen and faced her fair share of them, though many new little but the basics. Truly terrifying duelists were something she had yet to experience, as much as she wished it.

^{A forward strike…, she mulled:
I’d just raise my arm and…?}

Eyes swept the floor, analysing the symbols, searching for something – anything that was at least akin to her own method of defence. Slow steps circled, pondering with a level of thoughtfulness she had rarely wielded. These puzzles and riddles were not her forte – she lived in the moment and sought out the next challenge. Finally she halted, eyes closing as she reminisced of past battles and thinking. A sword – like any weapon – was an extension of its wielder’s body and spirit. Her sword, in all those instances, had been either her scythe or her arm.

Scarlette opened her eyes and stepped forwards.

Feet settled upon one of the plates; a depiction of a swordsman holding his blade steadily at his side, tip pointing to the sky. The stone sank. The stone clunked. A sound from the door. Had she chosen correctly? Silence confirmed it. And, in that silence, she glanced to Flynn, held her gaze for a moment, and then shifted to the glyphs. The third symbolised not a slash, but a thrust.

^{“How do you block that…?” she asked.}

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Starring…

_{Grimm-Rosa Scarlette (960018)}

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