Unleashed [Ayano, Deman, Natalie]

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 7 // UNLEASHED

The night had been relatively quiet. Deman and Angelica had grown accustomed to sleeping on a ship ever since those days on Goa, but on that night the two simply did not seem to catch sleep.
Deman for reasons unknown, perhaps related to the enemy he fought on the factory roof, perhaps related to what he saw through that window. Angelica, on the other hand, could not stop thinking of Natalie.

The very next morning, Deman decided to take a walk on the pier to warm his muscles up and clear his mind. His ears picked up on a familiar breathing pattern, a sound emanating from one of the benches around the port. He sat down, and crossed his legs. "Did you sleep well, Phoebe? How long have you been here?"
His question received no answer. "You never like it when I put myself in danger, do you?"
The white haired swordsman smirked, locking his fingers together. Despite her childish behavior, Phoebe really cared; Deman was unsure of what exactly he did to deserve such a loyal friend. At the beginning, he looked at her only as a subordinate - and then, when time passed, he started seeing her more like a close friend. Family, perhaps. "But you did not observe my request to stay at the ship, again."
He grew so much since he set foot off Elysium, and he wondered what he would be like the day he'd be back on that island. Before that, though, he needed to cross off every voice on that damned list.
"... I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't go and eat sesame."
Deman laughed it off. "Of course, Phoebe. Of course."

"Ah, Natalie" Deman called, whenever he could catch both of them, "we need to devise a plan."
He continued: "It has come to my attention that yesterday during the fair you have come across an anonymous contact, who directed you to the factory. I think it would be sensible to hear what they have to say today."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #1 — Natalie #1}

---

The morning sun heralded warming respite, if only because the dawn of a new day meant a fresh start, failures of the past night aside. Kōketsu Ayano was not one to let it slide, but the evening’s endeavour had been stymied by unforeseen events — and unknown visages. By the time the sun had broken the horizon, she was already awake and alert, and in no way showing signs of the fatigue that typically came with burning the candle at both ends. One could be forgiven for believing she had not slept as she stood overlooking the waters gradually being dyed their vivid blue by the banishing of night and shadow.

As was typical, Shirajirashī remained practically affixed to her hip, one hand holding fast to the white scabbard. She had already engaged in her strict morning kata routine, going through the motions of her admittedly unorthodox style of swordplay, and now was simply contemplating the next best course of action should her blade cross with the claws of that beastman yet again. And yet she remained attentive to her surroundings, caution heightened in the wake of failure.

^{“Gooooood morning, Ayano~!”}

^{“You are up early,” Ayano replied:
“I expected you to take longer…”}

“Eh? What are you talking about? I’ve got breakfast to make,” the fiery femme that was L’Estrange Natalie smiled, having somehow already started the process of frying rashers of bacon, hash browns, and eggs on a set up stove. How this woman achieved such action in such short spans of time never ceased to confuse, but despite being questioned on it many a time, the burning brunette always just shrugged it off with ambiguous retorts.

“Ah, Natalie,” said a now more familiar voice. “I think it would be sensible,” the White Tiger explained as she flipped rashers, cracked shells, and formed cakes of diced potato and onion. It was true that further investigation was needed now that their operation had been busted, and Nat certainly appreciated the swordsman’s diligence in that regard, but all she could do was turn and point a spatula at the man, a serious and perhaps actually professional look in her fiery eyes. If Ayano had been looking in her direction, she would have been surprised, but not at all by what was to follow.

^{“Important question,” she asked with fieriness:
“How do you like your eggs in the morning~?”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>A stern Ayano mentally prepares herself while Natalie asks the important questions!

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff

[pepsi]

"Important question, how do you like your eggs in the morning~?"

Deman was a man of composure. His sharp mind, as sharp as his sword, could cut through the thickest of problems and crack the toughest of questions in two.
But that simple query left Deman completely stumped. For a second he stood there, for the first time in months - maybe years - completely speechless. But there was a good reason for it, a reason that stretched far beyond the eggs and the breakfast.

He did not expect anyone to take breakfast more seriously than his objective, and it came as a breath of fresh air.
All the fighting, all the constant worrying about "what's next", and all the planning, all the thinking. Deman had almost forgotten what it meant to take a step back. He had forgotten what it meant to take a rest and enjoy the moment.
Building up his military operations had completely absorbed him, and every thought went to that alone. In a flash he understood why Phoebe was so worried about him, he understood that he had started to chase his dreams relentlessly. And he couldn't see how much he was closing into himself.
And that question? It snapped him back to reality.

In that very moment, he realised he really needed someone to put an end to his constant overthinking. "I..." he began to say, "I think I'd prefer it if the red was running". A soft grin drawn on his face, his otherwise tensed up pose on that bench relaxed quite a bit.

"I love scrambled eggs!" Phoebe chirped, instantly de-camouflaging at the sole mention of food. Angelica had just joined the others; she needed a bit more time to suit up. Much like Deman, she was ready to resume the investigation over the factory. Her gaze shifted over to Natalie cooking, and upon hearing the question she became red-faced and looked the other way; "For me, the same as the Commander" she'd simply say.

Phoebe ate her breakfast inordinately, much different with respect to Angelica and Deman who tried to mantain their composure despite the relative abundance of food.
"You know, when I was a child" he started, recounting the happy nights when he'd get a fancy and out-of-the-ordinary dinner, "we weren't allowed to cook our own food. So every now and then my dad would steal an egg from the kitchen in the Golden Palace. We'd cook it by the fire, but the inside was never solid."

"This reminds me of that." There was no good reason why that egg would remind him of his days as a slave. He had eaten more than one in the recent past, especially after the Revolution. But perhaps, the tonal whiplash simply brought him back to those days when he didn't need to care about a revolution. When he didn't need to care about a thing in the world. How distant those days seem now.
"Natalie, allow me to say, you must have quite an affinity with fire."

"We have the entire morning ahead of us" he said, leaning forward on the bench, the tips of his fingers touching. "There was no time to enjoy the fair yesterday, but today we may start it off on a different note, what do you think?"

Phoebe turned around starry-eyed. "Weally??" she asked, the words filtered through a mouthful of bacon.

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #2 — Natalie #2}

---

There was a certain satisfaction that L’Estrange Natalie got from cooking. The heat of a stovetop or grill, the sound of oil sizzling in the pan, and the smells that the heat coaxed out as it turned the raw and inedible into succulent, tasty morsels — it was an escape. An escape that required some level of skill, truth be told, but it was hardly her forte. She was no professional chef, just somebody who had learned to love food not just for its power to sate one’s hunger, but for its power to warm and unite. Sure, everyone had different preferences in what they liked, but everyone could unite over a nice meal.

“We weren’t allowed to cook our own food,” said the White Tiger as they each enjoyed their meals, daring to pull the curtain back a little to reveal a glimpse of his past. A difficult life, by the sounds of it, and the words he spoke dug deep — deep into Ayano’s soul. Her stoicism broke a little, barely visible, as she slowly pecked away at what was decidedly the most bland of the dishes the burning brunette had served up, minus the presence of a few slices of fried tomato and a slice of plain toast. Something about what he said resonated, but she could not remember what.

^{“You must have quite an affinity…”}

“Haha~! Well,” Natalie laughed, “that’s one way of putting it~!”

^{“It is not just fire,” Miss Kōketsu said:
“Did you not call it by a different name…?”}

“Mmm! That’s a little different, but it is fire,” the dancer smiled and said between mouthfuls. “Back where I’m from, the art of fire dancing was something special, but dangerous. Because of that, very few practitioners remained, but I was given the chance to learn from them,” she elaborated. “It’s not just fire, it’s Chinjoka Mpweya — ‘Dragon’s Breath’ — and it’s not something you can ever dominate and control. Most people forget that. My dance, Moto Kuvina, isn’t about controlling the flames, it’s about guiding them to where they need to be,” Natalie explained.

^{“There was no time…,” Deman said:
“…What do you think?”}

^{“Weally…?”}

^{“Hey,” Natalie beamed with enthusiasm:
“I might be able to show you what I mean~!”}

You and I are very different in our opinions of ‘dragons’, Natalie, Ayano thought, finishing her own breakfast — a decidedly smaller, less fatty, and more nutritious variant — and returning the plate to their little sailboat’s kitchen before returning. That strange and unprecedented sense of solemnity had returned, regally, and quashed that lingering feeling of unknown anger and sorrow ‘neath its heel. Still, she respected the stresses of their duties and understood more than a few things about the situation, and so she humoured the idea for the sake of allies.

“It would help with our morale. After yesterday’s rush,” she spoke with calm conviction, “I feel it would be better if we moved at the pace of the town, rather than at our own.” Eyes of deep purple scanned the group, but turned their attention mostly to Phoebe and Natalie, who shared a certain type of energy while being very different people. “Just, let us try not to burn ourselves out before the day is through…”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>As the group enjoys breakfast, Natalie explains a little about her dance’s principles, and Ayano stays attentive to the needs of their operational efficiency.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff
Phoebe Von Kessler [NPC] | #40e084

[pepsi]

"Back where I’m from, the art of fire dancing was something special, but dangerous..."

Deman listened to the woman's words, chewing on his egg with a content look on his face. As it did once before, memories of the fire dancers practicing in the Golden Palace resurfaced in his mind. "I used to know someone who could dance with the flames" he explained, with a bittersweet smile, "and it really is a wonderful display of grace."
Calmly, he stood up from the bench; Phoebe followed suit, springing into a standing position. "So! We're going to the fair? And we can actually play the games?". Deman gently nodded.

"It's a fair warning," he replied to Ayano, "let us avoid tiring our bodies out. We have one more night to raid the factory. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a call to make." And having said that, he paced a few steps away from the group and produced a transponder snail from his pocket.

[Purupurupurupuru...]
"Pacha? Are you far away from Shells Island?..."
"..."
"... I understand. Whenever you're comfortable, bring the ship back to the port. Yes, there was a change of plans. We're going to the fair."

"So" he said, stuffing the snail back in his coat, "shall we go?"

The fair had all kinds of tents. From the small open circus to the mimes show, all the way to BB-gun stands where you'd try and shoot down a stack of barrels; one section, branching off from the main path, had all kinds of pet animals up for display. In seeing the little animals kept in a cage Deman, Angelica and Phoebe, all three of them, frowned. Ice cream stands peppered the street, but not only that: fast food, sweets, cotton candy, refreshing drinks stands made sure to supply the visitors with a never-ending amount of food.
All in all, the fair seemed to be even larger, covering an even bigger area than the day before.

"Demmie please!! Can I shoot the barrels?"
Deman looked over at the stand, watching the little kids - all close to Phoebe's height more than her age - competing to win the biggest prize, trying to knock down the biggest barrel pyramid at the center of the shooting range. "You may. Just... make it look like it took you a lot of effort." "OK!"
Phoebe gleefully hopped over to the barrel shooting stand.

"I'm going to keep a watch on her" Angelica asked, "if you don't need me here, Commander". Deman shook his head, and answered: "You can go. The 'miraculous technobabble' section with all the mystics claiming to have created a perpetual engine is in that direction, by the way. Be sure to pass by and have a good laugh." Angelica and Deman gave each other a thumbs up; Phoebe and Angelica split from the rest of the group.

"So, Natalie, you set up a show yesterday too, right? I'm quite sure I saw you. Do you plan on doing the same today?" Deman asked, as the three walked along the main road.

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #3 — Natalie #3}

---

And so they set off. The fair would last another day or so, but here it was at its busiest — families from nearby islands in the region sailing across on small boats to join in the festivities for a few hours inflated the population of the town. It was additional cover, sure, but also just nice to see. Fun and food under the sun and, to Natalie, it was reminiscent of home. Burning eyes observed the streets as they walked, watching with a warm yet tempered smile as an excited Phoebe parted from the party with Angelica.

“She’s a sharpshooter, huh?” Nat queried once the Gyojin girl was lost to the ambient chitter and chatter of the milling crowds. “Everyone’s got that one ‘something’ that keeps them focused,” she uttered in understanding, casting a glance to Miss Kōketsu before looking to the White Tiger. “Like Ayano’s swordplay~!”

^{“I am focused at all times,” the swordswoman replied:
“The blade just makes it more obvious…”}

^{“So, Natalie, do you plan on doing the same today?”}

“I am sure she will,” Ayano interjected. “She does not miss an opportunity to show off her skills to an audience, least of all a fresh one.” Despite the presentation, the regal woman’s words were not malicious nor bored of her compatriot’s activities. Rather, she seemed strangely distracted — even unfocused — as her purple irises seemed to check every stand, crowd, and street corner. To explain it in words was nigh impossible. Though the adrenaline had long since eased, a sense of paranoia had manifested itself in the wake of that moonlit conflict. Suspicions dwelt in her mind, much as she tried to shove them to the back and do as she had suggested.

A squeeze of her waist made her stiffen and stop.

^{“W–! What are you doing…?”}

^{“Distractions,” Miss L’Estrange grinned:
“East Blue to Ayano: You need to focus…”}

^{“I am…”}

“…On having fun~! It’s not just physical exhaustion we need to avoid,” the fiery femme did say, continuing on their path as her cohort took a moment to reclaim lost composure and catch up with brisk steps. “Let your mind clear itself, else you’ll tire it out and all that focus will be gone by the time you need it — can’t burn the candle at both ends,” she said with a smile and a skip as they reached a slightly more open portion of the designated fairground. “As for me? I sure am~! I wouldn’t waste an opportunity to practice,” the brunette beamed with a pat of a pack strapped to her waist. “Wanna stay and watch the show~?”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>Off to the fair, Natalie tells Ayano to clear her mind before finding a place to set up for a dance.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff
Phoebe Von Kessler [NPC] | #40e084

[pepsi]

Deman nodded with a light smirk of satisfaction as Natalie pointed it out. "You wouldn't guess it from looking at her. She is an absolutely unparalleled sniper."
He still vividly remembered the first time they spoke. She was looking for food, and she was looking for toys; that was the reason why she broke into Deman's shop. He noticed her train of thoughts was all over the place right away; he hypothesised that her wandering mind needed something to focus on, and thus he took his gamble. It paid off immensely: "But I don't think of her as just an asset. Like all my comrades, she's much more than that."

Deman couldn't help but notice the brief exchange between the two girls. He concluded, given the more than abundant evidence, that Ayano shared with him a certain energy.
In Ayano he saw a piece of his younger, less experienced self. He couldn't dismiss everything the woman did as simply a product of this lesser nature, however; in fact, he still had much to learn from her - as she proved to him while simply conversing the night before. But perhaps there was some wisdom he could still share, and the moment couldn't be more perfect.
Deman's eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. And then another, and then another. He approached the pure white swordsman, and calmly stated: "I understand being on high alert. I am much the same, which is why I..." he nodded towards another familiar face in the crowd, who nodded right back, "... had to learn to rely on others."
Almost all of Shijin had been dispatched to watch over one another at the fair, perhaps a direct consequence of that Den Den Mushi call. "Even better," he continued, "the hardest lesson to learn was that you can't take it all on yourself."
Shijin's forces had their back.

A few steps later, his attention turned to Natalie. "Watch the show? I have a... divergent offer." His characteristic smirk brightened up in anticipatiom. "Natalie, have you ever included Ayano in one of your shows? Artisic swordplay paired with fire dancing used to be very popular when I was a child. It was quite the exotic art form."

"Perhaps we can help her take a load off this way. It'd help me, too."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #4 — Natalie #4}

---

“I have a… divergent offer,” Deman spoke, leaving Ayano to consider his words only for her to be ripped back to the reality of what he was suggesting as he pitched it towards Natalie. “Artistic swordplay paired with fire dancing used to be very popular when I was a child,” he’d elaborated. Really, Ayano wasn’t a particular fan of showing off her swordplay for the sake of entertainment. When Shirajirashī was loosed from its sheath, it was either to practice or to fight, not to toy around; least of all with flame.

Then she saw the grin on Miss L’Estrange’s face.

“Now there’s an idea~! Whadda ya say, Ayano?” the performer pestered, a mix of mischief and intrigue in her tone — and indeed plastered on her face — as she seemed to dance along with the White Tiger’s suggestion. “Wouldn’t it be a nice challenge to see if you can cut the flames?” To say it sounded impossible was an understatement, but that didn’t stop the fiery femme from considering if it were possible or not. After all, she had witnessed first hand the dancing blazes of her mentors, whose motions commanded the fire as if it were a tangible substance to be grabbed and guided.

“Were you not just talking about avoiding physical and mental exhaustion?” Miss Kōketsu questioned, raising a brow in at least partial confusion. At first Nat wanted her to completely cool and clear herself, but now was asking her to attempt a decidedly difficult endeavour for the sake of showmanship. The swordswoman closed her eyes, inhaled, and exhaled, allowing herself a moment before once more observing her compatriots. It seemed the fire dancer had already designated a spot and was starting to unpack her supplies, chalking out a decently sized circular area.

Ayano’s eyes shifted to Deman.

^{“I see your point,” she admitted quietly:
“This whole situation has me tense and…”}

“And voila~! Chalk line’s the limit — no fire or blade goes further, got it?” the burning brunette clarified with a sunny smile as she started to unravel her own tools of the trade. Not the blades with which she had initially clashed with Deman on the factory roof, but the poi she used for her performances — far less deadly and yet still so very mesmerising once they started to dance. “I hope you’re coming up with ideas, because it’s about to get hot~!”

“…I do not want to let my guard down, just in case our enemies decide to rear their heads here,” the white one continued, making sure to seem distracted enough that she was never facing Natalie despite addressing Deman. “Anyway,” she spoke further, a little more loudly now that the more serious side of her present concerns was done with, “do you have any suggestions on how to do this…?”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>As Natalie sets up a perimeter, Ayano speaks with Deman.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff
Phoebe Von Kessler [NPC] | #40e084

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 7 // UNLEASHED

Deman didn't make any attempt to hide his satisfaction seeing as his suggestion had been taken seriously. One line in particular however stimulated his curiosity; how could one really "cut flames"? It sounded infeasible at first; Deman dismissed such skepticism almost immediately, however, for the absolutely incredible things he learned how to consistently do would offer a perfect proof that infeasible was only a label for those who lacked motivation and imagination.

"I'll think of it as an unusual kind of practice" Deman said, with a slight nod of the head. "I suppose the trick involves a fine control of the hot and cold air streams around the fire. The physical principle is clear in my mind, but to use it effectively... It takes immense skill."

When asked the question of whether or not he had any ideas to face the fiery challenge, his thoughts went to the night before. Shirajirashi, Ayano's weapon, was an emblem of purity that the woman wished to maintain nearly at all costs.
A logical thought consolidated into his mind: was it fair to use such a symbol just for show? With that realisation, his smirk quickly turned upside down.

"Ayano," he asked in a lower voice, "if you were to cut fire, would it bleed?"

Perhaps a weird question, given that nobody had followed his trail of memories. "Or, rather, would it sully your blade, which is something you told me you want to avoid?"

He detached Byakko from the belt around his waist; he presented the sword to the white-haired swordswoman, holding it with a hand on the scabbard. "Use this, then."
If the woman decided to take it, he would hold on to the scabbard alone. "I'll use the sheath for this practice. It serves a similar purpose to Byakko for what concerns my fighting style, anyways."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #5 — Natalie #5}

---

“If you were to cut fire, would it bleed…?” An odd question, truly, but it brought a knowing smirk to L’Estrange Natalie’s face much as it did a curious break in Kōketsu Ayano’s obsessive stoicism, those deep purple eyes of hers pulled from the passive paranoia of her periphery to instead process the probe. Indeed, the White Tiger even went so far as to offer his own blade for her to use, speaking of sanctity in the scabbard as an alternative and yet integral part of his swordsmanship. Ayano’s hand raised, not to reach for the offered weapon, but in a soft denial.

“Cutting fire would not go against my philosophy,” she said with certainty. “The principle is no different than rending through an opponent’s armour or shield — albeit flame is more ephemeral in nature,” she duly noted as her eyes fell upon Nat as she sat cross-legged, going through the motions of preparing her poi for the show. Just the right amounts of oil would sink into the poi’s wick, none would threaten to spit or splash as they spun, and a simple spark would ignite them, yet their resistant nature would endure the flames they carried. Just to prepare was an artform.

“Ah, just try not to cut the wicks or tethers~,” Miss L’Estrange mused, aware of the dangers despite the airy presentation of her concerns as she stood and measured the the length of her poi against that of her outstretched arm and the fairground. “Don’t want any stray embers flying off, do we?” The dangers of uncontrolled flames were well-known to the masses, but the burning brunette truly understood just how much it could take if allowed even an inch of freedom. Without guidance, it would take whatever route it wanted, preying upon the weakest most readily.

“So, when I clock good speeds, trails will be about a foot at most if they carry with the wind,” she added, licking her finger and testing the breeze. Not that there was much of one, but better to be safe in her assessment than sorry in action. “It’s broad daylight, so you’ll have a much easier time tracking where Chinjoka Mpweya starts and ends,” she spoke, now in the process of removing the coffee-coloured sweater in what was most definitely a well-rehearsed motion, as Nat didn’t even dislodge her beret as it slipped over her head and was tossed atop the rest of her belongings just beyond the chalk line. Needless to say, her presence had drawn some attention, and that action — now revealing a lot of flesh bronzed by natural tone and flame kept in check by a black sports bra — had turned some heads.

“Hm,” Ayano grunted, focusing more upon the currently unlit poi as their wielder readied a match, but directing her words to both of her associates. “You can quickly change the directions of the flames, yes? How do you suppose we incorporate swords into this, aside from attempting to cut them?” Her hand ready upon Shirajirashī’s hilt, it felt uncanny to draw it against an ally, even if she knew her target wasn’t the dancer, but the dragon’s breath with which she danced. Flames that ignited with a ferocious golden flare as the match was flicked across the wicks.

“How’s about the two of you think it through for a sec,” Miss L’Estrange said, her face alight with a comforted smile as she stood and outstretched her arms, pyres floating a few inches above the ground and dancing their own tame rhythm as they awaited their commands. “You’ve both got the skill, the precision, the intelligence — you’ll figure it out once you see the flames in motion, yeah~?” And with that, she began, first with a gentle rock of the poi, back and forth as they gained height and acceleration.

Quickly, yet elegantly, one leg bent at the knee as the other extended outwards, forcing a pivot that set the poi into burning motion. A full rotation of the body and return to height and the show had truly commenced, flames arcing in broad circles, growing in both speed and daring with every subtle twist of limb and change in posture…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>Beginning her dance, Natalie sets up for Ayano and Deman to decide on their own choreography.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff
Phoebe Von Kessler [NPC] | #40e084

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 7 // UNLEASHED

Deman felt a gentle push against his flow. It was Ayano, who clarified that to her, fire was just as bloodless as the armor that covers an enemy.
Then, Deman supposed, did she not ascribe by the same beliefs as the other woman? Natalie seemed to give fire a true life of its own; fuel his lifeblood, soot the spilled blood. Perhaps soot did not count as blood in her mind.

Deman shook his head lightly; the two of them really were polar opposites, yet united in their goals.

The flamme fatale's poi started spinning into a pair of blazing wheels, and Deman had to divert his attention towards the task at hand. Ayano was observant, and her question was a valid one: one couldn't just expect to slice a flame in two.
The swordsman massaged his temple, trying to figure something out. Throwing things at the wall to see what stuck was just bad practice, and he intended not to make a fool of himself right in front of those two new acquaintances of his. "Most correct, most correct..."

Deman's mind kicked into high gear, as he tried to recall...

[!!!]

... his mind produced the "triangle of fire". Deman's right hand extracted the sword from the sheath, but only partially. "To burn, fire needs three things. Heat, fuel, and oxygen." The swordsman lifted three fingers off the hilt as he explained; "the first two, we cannot control."
His brows furrowed as his mind's eye sharpened, focusing the theory in his mind, drawing a clear path through his understanding of the ongoing phenomena. "But the third... I bet it's the key."
As the flames drew near, his grip suddenly tightened. The how was clear in his mind, but could he actually put it into practice?

The swordsman hopped forward, shifting downwards to lower his center of gravity; in one fluid motion, the katana was released. At the last moment, Deman rotated his hand so that instead of the edge of the blade, the flat would strike the flames.

The flat of the blade would push away much more air than the edge, and thus, it would spread oxygen away from the fuel - that was his educated guess.

The tongue of fire right in front of himself waivered slightly, following the blade for just a moment; alas, it did not retract or die down.
The white-haired swordsman grinned lightly, and huffed through the bare teeth as he grinned. "Well, theory is one thing. It's going to need a bit of practice to pull it off...!"

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #6 — Natalie #6}

---

“To burn, fire needs three things,” Deman explained of his own accord, his focus unwavering as both he and Ayano watched the flames dance about their guide. From Ayano’s perspective, it was no meagre feat on her comrade’s behalf that such fire could be bent and shaped as she saw fit. But though her admiration was mostly silent, so too was her assessment of the task at hand. Eyes watched the flames, ears heard the words from the fellow sword’s mouth, but she struggled to feel the rhythm by which the dancer moved.

The heat has been provided; we cannot risk cutting the fuel source, and so…, Miss Kōketsu considered, her thoughts practically in tandem with Mister Reeves’ own as he hopped into the fray. Her eyes narrowed. Every time she had seen Natalie fight, those blades of hers had carved through enemies—sometimes many at a time—and would soon do the same to allies if they stood too close. Every second of her dance was just a rehearsal for combat, or was it the reverse? She could not tell, but one thing was made certain: That woman was truly one with fire, elegant yet dangerous if not respected.

Swish! Deman’s blade arced through the air, drawing both of the girls’ eyes as steel gleamed with orange hue for the briefest of instants. Miss L’Estrange’s smile widened a little, fascinated by the man’s attempt at quenching Chinjoka Mpweya. But if anything, it was proof twofold. The flat of the blade had indeed pushed the trailing tongue of orange aside, but just as elegantly had the fire slipped about it as if the weapon itself had momentarily joined as its dance partner.

“It’s all down to the timing,” the burning brunette conferred, whole body in motion as she steadily stepped a half rotation and crossed her arms behind her back. “You’ve gotta know when to take it slow and when to go hard~!” For a moment, two trails crossed paths, so close to one another that the flaming forms temporarily became the same luminous entity before parting again. There it was in action, another facet of flames being their deceptiveness as the two circles had changed direction, seeming as if she had exchanged hands. But no, that was not the case.

^…!

Schwip! A second slash, this time made by Ayano’s hand as the flame descended into her weapon’s reach. For a split second, Shirajirashī’s silvery white steel seemed to vanish entirely, becoming an incandescent amber streak in its own right as its wielder commanded it. For a second, not even that, dancing flame was replaced with a dull shimmer of heat haze. There was barely a fraction of a second to process it, however, the poi streaming golden ripples again before the dancer had drawn it through another quarter circle.

^{“Wow! Impressive, hun~!” Nat teased:
“How’d you manage that…?”}

“You are indeed right,” the swordswoman stated firmly as she resheathed her blade. “Remove the oxygen and the flame ceases to burn… but to do that you cannot just strike at the fire itself. Like aiming your blade to where a mobile foe is,” she explained, “striking at the flame is only a glancing hit at best. However, the speed of the poi exceeds the speed at which I can reposition Shirajirashī, so I could not rest the flat of the blade over the end of the wick.” Eyes closing, Ayano took a step back as if to give Deman another shot, this time imparting her own knowledge of the situation. The situation, it seemed, had now started to draw a crowd…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>As Deman takes the first swing against Natalie’s flames and fails, Ayano demonstrates her precision and tactical awareness by nearly achieving the goal!

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff
Phoebe Von Kessler [NPC] | #40e084

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 7 // UNLEASHED

Deman looked around the tight space the woman had confined for their little exercise. Much to his amusement, the show had begun to gather around a decent crowd. Normally, he would've been very worried about giving away his presence like that; but something in his mind tried to push against habit.
Would the enemy from the day before really come out and attack them, like that, under the sun in the middle of a crowd? No, of course not. Not if they didn't want to cause a huge commotion and expose themselves as well.
Moreover, drawing attention towards them would also mean drawing it away from any one of their allies scattered about at the fair, and thus offer protection indirectly.

And that was a tactical possibility Deman would've never considered if he never met Natalie. He smiled lightly.
Expanding his horizons always put him in a good mood.

And just as those thoughts finished unwinding inside his mind, Ayano gave a demonstration of her acumen and swordsmanship. The detail of her weapon seemingly vanishing, so fast it briefly escaped vision, did not escape Deman's perception. The sound it made... it was no regular technique, and it warned him there was even more to be expected out of miss Kouketsu.

Soon it was his turn once more. As Ayano noted, there was no point in striking the fire alone; that was just an afterimage of the real source, the poi.
But one could never hope to follow the poi with their blade, because it moved simply too quick - and how to solve this conundrum?

Deman smirked, as he often did, as he figured it out.

He unsheathed the blade, and wielded it two-handed in front of himself - a solid stance, an absolute staple of katana swordsmanship. He slowed his breathing, watching the poi draw perfect and mobile golden circles framing and intersecting Natalie's figure.
On cue, he retracted both hands to his left hip; he leaned forwards with his body, lounging into yet another slash...

ひゅー!
[Woosh!]

At the end of his action, Deman's weapon hit the ground as it had followed the poi for the entire range of its reach; the sound of wood hitting stone filled the air.
In his left hand, still resting at the hip, Deman held his Byakko. And in the right hand, the one that performed the slash...

"The scabbard..." he said, light panting in his voice from the sudden increase in physical activity. "Its mass is several times smaller with the blade with roughly the same shape" he explained, the light of invention in his eye sparkling bright. "The same amount of force as before equals..."

"... a much greater acceleration!" The swordsman declared, as he sheathed his weapon slowly. "Enough to catch up to the poi's speed in that span of time."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // C

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Ayano #7 — Natalie #7}

---

Woosh! …Sss… Clack… A series of sounds, from the ripping of the air to the sizzle of heat to the bouncing of wood on the stone. It all culminated in a single moment, swift and decisive. Ayano’s eyes narrowed, having watched the entire procedure from start to finish. Where once two flames had been whirling, now there was only one—the other a dull orange cinder starved of breath as it left a dying trail in its wake. To understate such a performance was foolishness.

“Incredible,” the snowy-haired siren stated, taking a moment to stow Shirajirashī so that she could rightfully offer Mister Reeves a short applause. A round that was quickly followed by some of the observing crowd, themselves entranced by the whole performance and the daring and precision at play.

“Hehe~! What’s up?” Natalie asked, still spinning the poi as if the fire had not been extinguished. “Wanna see if you do that too, Ayano~?” The mischievous smirk upon the tanned woman’s face had grown, teasingly trying to coax out a competitiveness from her comrade as she continued to command the cords. Fluid twirls and a movement of her leg caused the lit poi to wrap around her thigh and bounce back, flames intersected the now shortened path of the extinguished double in such a way that amber tongues lapped at the wick, reigniting as she alternated spirals. It was as if the flames of one had been passed to the other.

“No, thank you,” Miss Kōketsu answered, much to Miss L’Estrange’s disappointment. However, she didn’t leave the mood hanging for all that long, revealing instead something that the fire dancer was sure she seldom exposed. “I know when I’m outmatched.” Humility. Though it seemed like it at times, Ayano wasn’t an excessively proud sort. It all made sense, really, for no matter how much she saw of the swordswoman, she had never seen her fall—and everyone knew that pride came before it.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>As Deman demonstrates his skill, Ayano is impressed by it and concedes, much to Natalie’s equal disappointment and pleasant intrigue.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Kōketsu Ayano | #fd6c9e
L’Estrange Natalie | #806548
Deman Reeves | #f3f9ff
Phoebe Von Kessler [NPC] | #40e084

[pepsi]

Deman was born a slave.

There is only one thing a slave needs to do: what he is ordered to. There is no room for failing, there is no room for deviations from the path, there is no thinking outside the box. It is a stale environment that withers the mind and destroys the spirit.
And likewise, when a slave accomplishes an order they are never rewarded for it. There is no reward for success because that much is expected of slaves: they have to be perfect, or they are sold to the next owner.
Some people react to this by finding all the ways to hide their imperfections. Some, like Deman, developed a maladaptive perfectionism that associates failure with punishment and pain.

That is to say, slaves don't get any praises and he wasn't used to them.

Upon hearing Ayano clap, and upon hearing the cheers of the crowd that followed, Deman felt truly out of place for a split second. Were they actually impressed with his skill? Everything he did was the peak of normality to his eyes. He simply did what he was capable of doing, and his brain for a fleeting moment could not comprehend something such as excelling.

Of course, Deman's mind couldn't lose its characteristic composure; it immediately assumed the applause was for Natalie and her show, and everything fell back under control.
He sheathed Byakko and joined the round of applause, motioning towards Ayano and Natalie so that the crowd would cheer them as well. Something inside him calmed down the moment that praises were not directed only towards himself.

The silver-haired swordsman witnessed the exchange of the two that occurred right afterwards. "I've only seen a fraction of a second of your skill" he interjected, "but I'm certain I would learn a lot from your approach to the problem, miss Kōketsu."
That much was true. Deman would never stop learning from the people around him no matter how much further he progressed in his own path; every person under his tutelage as Shijin's Commander taught him something valuable. Natalie and Ayano would be, and are, no less.
He turned to Natalie, and attempted to offset her disappointment with a different proposal: "Perhaps we may call it off" he said, "we can't afford to steal any more eyes." In a sense, that was true; however, it was clear Deman's suggestion was to move on to attend more delicate matters.

As the show was called off - not before Natalie gave another spectacular testament to her skill - Angelica and Phoebe emerged from the dispersing crowd. Angelica was visibly more tired than when they left her, but Phoebe was even more ecstatic; they found the green bundle of energy carrying around a plushie in the shape of a frog, nearly as big as she was. "It's so fluffy!!" she screamed, shaking it about.
Angelica sighed, and explained: "she won it at the shooting range with the toy guns...". It made for an amusing scene.

"We better go talk with the same person you talked with yesterday" he explained, in a lower voice, as he started marching forward. "I have a feeling they may know more about whatever attacked us during the night."
When the group reached Poco Averso's tent, the place looked deserted. The stage wasn't set up, and it looked like nothing had been touched since the closing time of the day before. "This is the place, right?" Angelica asked, receiving a firm confirmation afterwards.

From inside, a voice. Deman could hear it clearly: it was a man, sobbing quietly inside the tent. "Someone's inside" he warned, before entering. "They sound distressed." Without much hesitation, he pushed on.

"Bwuh... huh..."

The inside of the tent had scarce illumination, but the group could clearly see a man sitting on a chair in the middle of the tent with a crumpled piece of paper in his fist. Blonde hair, fair skin, rather young. Definitely not the man they were looking for. "Who... who are you?" the man asked.

"You are... looking for Poco? My Poco?"

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // C

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // ???

-- CLASS // ???

-- TECHS USED // None.