The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B - complete]

[Takaki Saeko]

The Lightning Country Saga: Act 2 scene 2​

Dragon Tooth Pass, Kumogakure
Kaminari no Kuni
...1300 hours

As Masao started to turn back from the now-closing gates, the medical Sennin now tapped him on the shoulder.

“Vice Commander, did you happen to inform the Main Branch shinobi you’ve sent on this mission about the particular way in which the Raiden’s Breath is powered?” asked Kushin, scratching at a patch of stubble on his chin.

“I didn’t think it important to do so, Doctor. Isn’t it just like any other train in existence? Coal burning plant that provides impulse to a steam engine?”

“How should I put this… Zero points!” said Kushin, shaking his head. “The Raiden’s Breath is powered by neutron splitting of decay products emitted by highly unstable fuel rods suspended in a barium matrix, which creates heat which then drives the train’s power plant. In short, it’s a uranium reactor. A leaky one, too.”

“I guess that means they’ll have to cover their junk,” said Masao, prompting a laugh from Kushin.

Concurrently
"Russian Deliberations" from the MW3 OST​

On board the IAT Raiden's Breath
Central Kaminari no Kuni
...1300 hours

The train was now on the move, having picked up speed both from the descent down Kumo’s mountain as well as the turnings of its own steam turbines. As a product of an opulent and advanced past era of man overshadowed with the perpetual threat of war, it was more of a fortress on rails than a true train, and such was the case inside. Each railcar stretched at least thirty meters in length, and was ten meters in width, with enough height for two or even three levels in each. The spaces for passengers were lined with hardwood paneling accented with velvet and gold filigree everywhere one looked, and the rather dim lighting was provided by electric chandeliers and candelabras lining the passageways. One could still not escape the large bundles of wire and piping that snaked across the ceilings and upper walls, diving illogically into one section of care only to burst out of another. The full complement of crew, including pilots, enginemen, mechanics, and servants could number over a hundred. Periodically, the shinobi on board would see them emerge from trapdoors and panels to clean a soiled patch of carpet or tiling or inspect a section of piping, only to disappear again into their mysterious boltholes. They spoke not a word, making the entire train seem oddly robotic in character.

The shinobi, along with Viscount Mizuki, were now assembled in an antechamber, beyond which led to the main stateroom where the nobles would presumably gather. Shiranai had already been sequestered within by Lady Ami, and was not present. In truth, he could no longer be considered one of their number – not from this day forward. Now, the boy lived on a different plane of existence. A “non-player character” in the game of shinobi warfare.

“Countess Oishi, you flatter me with your presence,” said Mizuki, his voice silken as he gently took Bakunin’s hand and kissed it. “I apologize for being so crass, but I am required to give you a briefing immediately, as our time is limited and the Chancellor wishes for matters to be resolved before we arrive at the Capitol. Your role in particular is different than that of the other shinobi with you. They are to provide overall security, but you have been called here as well because you occupy the unique position of being the thirty seventh inheritor of your family’s name as well as a shinobi of Kumogakure. Essentially you are to be the direct representative of Daimyo Hayata Shin, who is considered to be a neutral party, and because you are not a commoner, the other parties at the negotiation table, particularly Lord Ryuu, cannot simply dismiss or ignore your words. It will be incumbent on you to maintain order at these talks as the moderator.

"There will be four parties present at the table, as well as the Crown Prince, who you are familiar with; Chancellor Tachibana accompanied by myself, Marshal General Nobunaga accompanied by Brigadier General Izanagi, Grand Admiral Kato accompanied by Vice Admiral Kuro, and Daimyo Amakusa accompanied by Baron Tsukahara. Each two-person delegation will also have a personal bodyguard standing behind both of them – the guards are not to speak or draw their weapons during the normal course of negotiations, so you need not concern yourself with them.

"Milady, do you have any questions for me? If not, they await us.”

After Bakunin’s curiosity had been satisfied, the doorway now opened to an impossibly large meeting room in which the nobles and their aides had now assembled and were beginning to take seats at an oblong mahogany table under a large, still-dim chandelier. The room had no windows, unlike other sections of the train that at least had an occasional small grated porthole, making the atmosphere stultifying. The entire place was appointed in almost silly baroque fashion, with velvet and filigree everywhere, and there was an omnipresent smell of tobacco and perfume.

In one corner, a powerfully-built, lizard-like man conversed in hushed tones with a red-haired man in a horribly out-of-place Hawaiian shirt who sucked loudly at a straw buried in a giant frozen drink. Watching them, a handsome man in his thirties with two strange-looking, basket-hilted swords at his waist. In another corner, a grizzled pair of men who looked to be soldiers stared out at the proceedings, seemingly checking the shinobi out, while a withdrawn-looking woman attempted not to stare at Shiranai, who had found a place at the head of the table. A masked figure in the cloak and uniform of the Imperial Navy had also found a seat and was conversing with a similarly-uniformed blond man who periodically erupted in giggling. A dangerous-looking woman in a red power-suit, her face half-burned but the rest of her body very well proportioned, now sauntered up to Horo, who was no doubt probably slouching or scratching his ass as Horo was wont to do. Taking a quick look around to make sure no one could eavesdrop, she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Meet me outside in twenty minutes, handsome boy,” said Reina to Horo, giving him a fanged smile before turning back to standing behind Takumi and Shou. By now, the nobles and their seconds had all found their seats around the oblong table, with Shiranai seated at the head. The gentle sway of the train’s movement made the overhanging chandeliers swing slightly, casting odd shadows that ebbed and flowed. As Bakunin found her seat, the room quieted now.

“Lords and Ladies of the Council of Eleven Moons, we hereby open this session in the name of peace for Kaminari no Kuni…” began Mizuki.

“This is preposterous, Viscount!” growled Ryuu suddenly. “You are Ami’s direct subordinate. Why the hell are you moderating this sham of a conference? I knew you lot had no intention of making this impartial. I’m leaving,” he said, beginning to rise.

“We’re taking our football home, douchenozzles!” interjected Daiki, failing to suppress laughter. Ami’s gaze hardened.

“Forgive me, Daimyo Amakusa, you are correct – I am an inappropriate moderator for this session,” said Mizuki now, bowing in apology. “The Bakufuu has contracted for an impartial representative to conduct moderation. I present the Countess Oishi Bakunin of the Bakunin family. She is here as a representative of Daimyo Hayata Shin of Kumogakure, a neutral and impartial party.”

“Bakunin? As in the flush toilet family?” sighed Ryuu.

“Would you rather shit between two planks in a freezing outhouse, Ryuu?” asked Kouhei, cracking a grin to which Ryuu shot back an evil glare.

“Good one, old fart!” grinned Daiki in return.

“Whatever. This is all a farce anyway. Very well, continue on with your amusements. Ami, you look like you have something to say,” said Ryuu, throwing his hands in the air.

“Thank you, Daimyo Amakusa,” said Ami, rising to her feet to address the room. “As Chancellor of the Bakufuu, I stand before you today with a singular purpose: to end the fighting that is destroying our nation and our way of life. The root cause of our troubles is the fact that we have existed these past sixteen years without the firm leadership of our Shogun, clouded with the despair caused by the news that the crown Prince, Shiro Amakusa Yuuto vi Kaminari, had been murdered by a criminal whose name shall not be spoken. However, there is a new hope which has been lent to us by the grace of Raiden…”

As Ami continued to speak, Ryuu visibly rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but did not interrupt. As Horo scanned the room, Yui now motioned for him to come closer.

“Something’s come up, chuunin,” whispered Yui icily in Horo’s ear when he drew near. “The Late Shogun’s signet ring is one of the symbols of his authority, and Lady Ami had brought it with her planning to give it to the Crown Prince. Without it, the Council of Nobles won’t believe he’s truly the legitimate heir, which will make my Lady very annoyed, and I will not tolerate her being annoyed,” she said. Her hand had snuck between Horo’s legs and had now caught his groin in a vise-like grip. “Since we’ve stopped at Kumo, the damned thing’s gone missing from the Lady’s chamber. I suspect one of the servants on board took the thing, not knowing what it was, and will try to fence it when we reach the Capitol. I want you and your genin to go to the servants’ quarters near the engine and find the ring and bring it back. If you find out who took it, kill them painfully. But above all else, return with that ring. Do I make myself clear, chuunin?” she asked, giving him a slight squeeze before releasing Horo (and little Horo) from her grasp. By now, Ami had finished speaking, and sat down now.

“If I’m to acknowledge that kid over there as the Shogun, then I get to keep the lands I have taken by my ancient right to the spoils of warfare,” now said Ryuu, slamming his hand on the table. “Also, Admiral Kato over here is to remove his fleet from the Port of Tenouza so my forces can assist in their…rehabilitation.”

“Bullshit, Ryuu!” roared Kouhei in response. “Using CHEMICAL WARFARE and MISSING SHINOBI is a direct contravention of the Nikkei Condordat. You get nothing!”

“I’m not moving the fleet anywhere, Daimyo. The Tenouzans bought my protection with plenty of hard-earned cash. If you want the holy city then you have to give me Kelmura in return,” sneered Takumi. Ami now looked expectantly at Bakunin. It was time for the Countess to prove her worth.

Clarification: This is the main mission body. As stated I will attempt to post at least every 48 hours (there may be delays related to Turkey Day aka "Murrica gorges on birds and goes to liberate the shit outta y'all day", natural disasters, TEOTWAWKI, etc). In the meantime, for players, I will state again that THERE IS NO SET POSTING ORDER. You are free to post as many times as you wish in between mods as well. You also do not have to perform missions in isolation. If you want to work with each other to coordinate dialogue, tactics, problem solving approaches, etc this is highly encouraged. Also, although I am the mission mod, you are free to elaborate within your own posts on aspects of the mission and game world if you are feeling creative. Just run things by me to avoid obvious contradictions or conflicts. My job is to make this fun for the participants, which makes it fun for me. Think of these as little "movies" in which everyone is a main character (or a supporting character if you feel more comfortable in that role).

 

[Oishi Shichimenchou]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]

I restrained myself from punching the Viscount when he kissed my hand - I was a widow! As the Viscount explained the details of the matter to me I took out my notebook and pen. It was obvious that I would be writing several notes on this mission after all. I was to act as the representative of Daimyo-Raikage Hayata Shin as a neutral negotiator over several details as they were. There were six factions in total involved.

As the Viscount spoke I quickly wrote out notes to be shared with those other shinobi who were part of the mission. The others were, as the Viscount stated, here for the purpose of security. If that was truly the case then I needed to be assured that they all knew who we were dealing with. The Viscount erred in one statement. He said that Kumogakure and our lord Daimyo-Raikage were neutral. I had not been raised in the Village Hidden in the Neutrality, nor was I the vassal of the Neutral Shadow. I had been raised in the Village Hidden in the Clouds and was vassal to the god damn Raikage.

My note, written in cipher of course, read the following. I had made enough copies for the others on the mission.

To whom it may concern,

Here is a list of those who we have in the train. There are in total six factions, including ourselves. I list them below from those who we must protest, to those who are expendable, to those whose death would be beneficial. Please use your judgement of circumstances to make your decisions.

• The Crown Prince (The Royal Family)
  
  Protect the Prince at all costs. His survival ensures a return to normalcy for the empire.
  
• Chancellor Tachibana & the Viscount (The Interim Civil Government)
  
  Current head of government of our nation and her adviser respectively. Expendable; protect at all costs should the Prince be fatally harmed.
  
• Marshal General Nobunaga & Brigadier General Izanagi (The Army)
  
  Loyal to the royal family. Can defend themselves. Can be trusted enough to help defense the Crown Prince should the need arise.
  
• Grand Admiral Kato & Vice Admiral Kuro (The Navy)
  
  Loyalties questionable; not to be trusted. Expendable.
  
• Daimyo Amakusa & Baron Tsukahara (The Nobility)
  
  Death would be beneficial. Information on the PM companies he uses could be of benefit to the village.
  
• Us
  
  Expendable.

Proceed with caution.

When the Viscount asked me if I had any questions I mouthed a no and shook my head in the negative. I did take the moment between us standing up and the passageway opening to throw my notes. I had made paper airplanes out of them and enchanted them with chakra to fly towards my fellow shinobi. As a bureaucrat I had a certain affinity to paper.

"Just asking the team what they would like to eat when it is lunch time," I said preemptively in case anyone wondered what I had written on the notes.

I entered the room filled with noblemen and military officers as calmly as I could. I began to cough when one of them found it unnecessary to make reference to how my family had become ennobled. Most of them owed their status to their ability to kill others, and they had the courage to make fun of my family? Our name was literally in every household. No really, next time you use the restroom look at the cover. Written in small print will be 'Bakunin'.

I had little time to stop my coughing before the room went into an uproar of fighting between the various factions. Notepad and pen intact I quickly went into writing down notes on what was being said. There was a brief intermission of silence and, upon looking up of my notepad, I saw that I was being stared at. Was it my turn to speak then?

"I hope I am not being too bold Admiral," I started, "If the Holy City has paid you for their protection you are honor bound to protect them, yet you seem to be willing to hand them over in exchange for Kelmura. Doesn't that mean you are already willing to betray them, with the only thing to be decided at what cost?"

 

[Horo Danshi]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]


The train was enormous, and this was a fact that suited Horo Danshi perfectly well. Since his (magnificent) escape from the confines of the village, the Dipshit Kid had taken to his sudden vacation in the best way he knew how: by finding his quarters, throwing off his shoes, and letting the smell of his raised and wiggling footsies acquaint him to the coming days of relaxing intoxication that were doubtless to follow. Take that, murdering universe! I think not, throngs of eager ANBU! Save your heads of cattle for another time, unfilled blood debts! The Horo Train has left. Without you. POW!

So enraptured was Horo in the reveries of his freedom from duty that he hardly noticed the process of its being shuffled back upon him. He'd barely bothered to read the mission brief involved for the task at hand, and it was in fact to some surprise that he discovered the pair of Genin sharing his lodgings were in fact his Genin, though what he was meant to do with them the hapless Seikon could not be bothered to wonder about. Objectives, as they typically did, would find Horo in time and neglect, as always, was the best route to take with any remotely intelligent man or beast that could be found on the cover of a children's book. Horo Danshi spared no effort in breaking from this routine with the present pair of younger shinobi, and it was only when commotion outside his living compartment (and the urgings of his peers) motivated him to get up from his cot that the storm-dressed chuunin realized that events of no minor importance were occurring.

Ryuu. Ryuu, Ryuu... was the name that thronged the cramped hallways, was whispered, muttered, and filled the air with the stink of many expended breaths. But where have I heard it? puzzled Horo Danshi as he, too, stalked those walkways, trodding gracelessly past the serving staff, the engineers, the pilots and the politicians that marked his way to the opulent anteroom where the powers of the Lightning Country gathered for their shared trial of sharp tongues. It was unmistakably familiar, even recent. World events, perhaps?

It was only when he momentarily witnessed the man's likeness, passing from the anteroom into the conference room beyond, that the name attached itself firmly to a place, a time, a specific lithograph half-burnt on a poster blowing through the streets of a city that also burned: "AMAKUSA RYUU || FOR THE DAIMYO || FOR VICTORY!"

"He- heeeeeeeey!" he cried out in stumped surprise as the man's backside vanished, a paper airplane sailing over his shoulder and past his outstretched, unreacting hand. "You're that jerk!" Some in attendance doubtless shot glances at the slack-jawed Chuunin. Some in attendance were promptly ignored, or simply beyond noticing. Scratching his head furiously as he followed the file into the chamber (Security detail! seemed to be the word of the day hereabouts, though for who and from what, the Dipshit Kid was spectacularly ignorant), he led the Genin like a trail of garish ducklings into the realms of highest society, and wondered how long he would need to stay here, pretending to be awake.

He'd just decided to fix his best Murderstare™ at the Asshole In Question (alongside his craycray looking lapdog, Horo Horo day, who let the rich spend this much time on their crazy eyes it must be fabulous) when an unexpected presence on his shoulder and the strangest impact in his nether regions and a not-altogether-present pressure compelled the chuunin to look straight into the eyeeeeAAAAAAAGGGHHH-

"Meet me outside in twenty minutes, handsome boy."

"How does it feel to be a crispy potato?" The question was lost in Horo's throat, immediately dried upon witnessing the utter spectacle of the formidable woman up close, looking into the black jag of her half-face and seeing in there only the sneer of this universe's many failed possibilities, the spiral of cracked flesh communicating theRUIN OF ALL AND EVERY THING AND THE HUNGER ETERNAL THAT WILL BE THE CLAIMANT OF THIS AND EVERY WORLD BOW YOUR SCRAPPY HEADS AND WITNESS THE IMPOSSIBLE DIVISION OF EARTH ANDwhoooooa there Horo, whoa buddy, whoa buddy buddy hey. Settle down grampa, SETTLE DOWN.

There was no settling to be had, however, as the next unprepared-for touch came...more rudely than the last. Yet another woman with absurd hair had demanded his attentions, and he had traipsed on over only to be grasped most ineffectually and told in no uncertain terms that the crown prince had lost his cracker jack ring, and that the Breakfast Cereal kingdom was ruined if it could not be found, and it was almost certainly the help and oh Horo Horo day this was something for HIM to do wasn't it??? At any rate the woman was fixing him with a Look, and if the Dipshit Kid knew anything about a Look it was that there was only one thing to do about it and that was:

Pretend to know what one was doing.

"March ya stale ass-prawns!" Horo Danshi begged to the two strange children in his care. He attempted an aggressive hand gesture to accompany the command, but it just didn't work out, no sir, just sort of petered out and he had to pretend to adjust a nonexistent cuff instead. "Time to SECURITY." And marching out of the conference room, giving his fellow shinobi at the conference table a knowing (horrible. HORRIBLE.) wink, he pressed on towards where he supposed the servants' quarters must be, and generally began wondering whether or not there was a porthole on this train big enough to leap from and never be seen again.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]

"Cutler Beckett" from the POTC 3 OST​

“That’s an awfully comprehensive lunch menu, milady,” said Mizuki slyly to Bauknin upon catching a glimpse of the coded note that the literary countess had produced in such a short time. Inwardly, he smiled to himself at the true complexity of the deceivingly simple-appearing cipher. Even a top mentalist like him would need at least a week to crack the code alone, and for now her writing would remain secret to him, although he had a general idea of what it likely said.

“Kelmura?! Of course not, Takumi. Their port pulls in more trade revenue in a year than Tenouza does in five. Why don’t you have another go at the Kagoshiimans? I’ll even back you up on land – that’s how you failed last time, anyway,” retorted Ryuu.

"If the Holy City has paid you for their protection you are honor bound to protect them, yet you seem to be willing to hand them over in exchange for Kelmura. Doesn't that mean you are already willing to betray them, with the only thing to be decided at what cost?" now asked Bakunin. The admiral shifted in his seat.

“Milady, as a flag officer of the Imperial Navy, my loyalties are to Kaminari no Kuni, not to some quasi-independent city state only allowed to hoist its own flag due to the indulgence of the late Shogun,” he said, shrugging. “Besides, they paid me to shell Amakusa’s men, not to be their protector for eternity. I’m willing to give them their money back, if they want. But to you, Ryuu, that’s not good enough. The Navy has been protecting our waters for decades and yet we’ve no true home port to call our own. Now that I think about it, if the Crown Prince has a better offer I’m willing to entertain it. Until then, I stay put and my cannon are loaded.”

“Sorry, young miss, this is just how business is done…” whispered Kuro Shou to Senna, his quick eyes catching a glimpse of the Tenouzan symbol hanging from her necklace.

“You’re still not in a position to negotiate, either, Ryuu,” gruffly spat the Marshal General. “Did you forget what I just said? You worked with a missing shinobi to take those cities. Hayata Makoro! That’s against every rule of warfare that you, as a supposed member of this council, have pledged to abide by and enforce…”

“You have no proof of that, Kouhei,” sneered Ryuu. “When did I ever work with a missing shinobi? Even if one of those rogue weapons of mass destruction DID decide to go apeshit and gas the cities, that doesn’t mean I told him to. I merely sent my troops in to stabilize a chaotic situation and help rebuilding efforts. Where was the Imperial Army? The citizens of this land are HAILING ME AS A LIBERATOR! My troops are handing chocolate bars to children and flowers to the elderly!”

“Daimyo Amakusa, I actually hear that citizens of this land are getting their hands on Avtomat Karashnikovs and blowing up your convoys with homemade explosives. Not to mention the recent report of thirty civilians being lined up and shot in the town square of Yaga Shura in ‘counterinsurgency operations.’ This is public knowledge, by the way” said Ami to Ryuu, a serene smile on her face. “That doesn’t sound like a happy citizenry. It sounds like you have a very tenuous grasp on an unwilling populace resisting an illegal occupation.”

“Those IEDs and foreign fighters are being supplied by rogue states on our borders that would like nothing better than to take advantage of the chaos and impose their dirty sand religion all over our freedoms,” said Ryuu, crossing his arms again.

“I told that teachin’ lady that the only letters I needed to know were U, S, and A!” whooped Daiki, fist-pumping. This earned him an immediate cuff to the back of the head from Ryuu.

“What the fuck is the USA? Get serious here or I’m throwing you off the train,” whispered Ryuu to Daiki.

“Daimyo Amakusa’s hold over the cities gets more tenuous every day, milady. His forces are geared more toward open warfare, not counterinsurgency. They only know how to respond to insurgency with brutality. This in turn feeds insurgency in a vicious cycle. However, if he is made Shogun, or if Shiranai is made Shogun and recognizes the Daimyo's claims to these lands, then the people must submit to him. And if he keeps much of the territory he occupies now, then Shiranai will essentially be a powerless figurehead, always fearing that Daimyo Amakusa will turn the country against him again,” whispered Mizuki in Bakunin’s ear.

“Realize, Ami, that I don’t disagree with you. I want the fighting to stop, too. It’s costing me a lot of money to defend this nation, which is something the Imperial Army and Navy should be doing. The people need a strong leader or else foreign powers and seditious elements in our own society will continue to cause problems for everyone,” sighed Ryuu, earning a death glare from Kouhei. “That’s why it’s a far better choice for me to be Shogun, rather than some shinobi kid over there who has no experience in government or war. I mean, is he even legitimate? Even if he was one step closer in the succession order, that means little. The Council has the power to choose the right candidate, not the one who happened to get born ahead in line.”

“The right candidate is Chancellor Tachibana!” shouted Yui, hands balled into fists. All eyes now turned on her. The bodyguards were not supposed to speak, no matter what insults or praises were hurled at their masters.

“Sir Yui. Leave.” said Ami, pointing to the door. The woman blushed and bowed apologetically to Ami before storming out the back door, opposite of where she had sent Horo. “My bodyguard was out of line. I apologize to those present,” the Chancellor said, coolly. “And in response to you, Daimyo Amakusa, Crown Prince Shiranai is the right choice for Shogun of the land. It will be his choice as to whether you are allowed to keep your illegally-obtained spoils of war.”

Shiranai now looked concernedly to Bakunin, as if asking for advice. The stakes were high here – Ryuu, while still protesting that he was a better choice for the Shogunate, seemed to be growing more comfortable with allowing Shiranai to become the head of state, so long as he would allow Ryuu to keep the cities he had conquered. This would likely bring about an immediate end to the hostilities. However, doing so would essentially render the Bakufuu and Shiranai powerless in the end...

Meanwhile​

As Horo exited out the opposite door, his genin accompanying him in search of a very expensive ring (and salvation for his genitalia or what were left of them), he now saw the face of Sir Damashi Kenta waiting in the middle of the hallway out from the conference room. The man stood ready, in a combat position, his twin basket-hilted swords drawn and flashing dangerously.

“My deepest apologies for the interruption, Chuunin Hiro. I have been ordered to punish you for your insolence to my liege lord the Daimyo Amakusa,” he sighed, pointing one of the swords in Horo’s direction. This was why Ryuu had not previously acknowledged the chuunin’s earlier statement. The response to a noble insulting one’s honor was to change the offending party to a duel. But if the offending party were merely a commoner, then they had no honor, and the appropriate response was to send one’s servants to administer a beatdown. To wit, Horo Danshi was less than human in the eyes of the Daimyo. A second passed, tension filling the room like a suffocating miasma.

“Normally I would tell you to prepare to defend yourself, however in confidence I completely agree with your assessment of my master as a ‘jerk.’ So I would propose this: let’s not fight, and say we did. Is this agreeable, sir?”

Assuming Horo and/or his genin would not give a response that would lead to an immediate battle royale outside of the conference room, the trio now made their way across several of the massive railcars toward the front of the train, where the powerplant and servant quarters were. The further away from the noble’s quarters and conference room they went, the more utilitarian and downright scary the train’s interior started to become. Wood paneling and chandeliers were now replaced with metal bulkheads and flickering fluorescent lighting that barely illuminated dark corners that loomed threateningly out of nowhere at nonsensical angles. Steam hissed from leaky vents that dripped fluid into pools of glowing yellow-green material that had accumulated on the floors. Several times, they passed what looked like the interiors of turrets, ready to emerge from the roofs of the railcars to drive off illegal flying machines. Belts of linked arbalestillery ammunition were strewn on the floor in disarray, feeding into the death machines in some fashion. Occasionally hung on the walls on large hooks were outfits that seemed like bulbous, dirty environmental suits, complete with smeared and scuffed helmets that would have encapsulated a man’s entire head (and then some) like an overturned fishbowl. Barely-legible patches on the arms of the suits read: “S-NA SP-CE PROGR-M” along with a faded image of stars in the night sky. Finally, they reached a fork in their path – one direction said “Kitchen” and the other “Servants’ Quarters.” Seeing as strange smells and glopping noises were emanating from the direction of the kitchen, they took the path to the servant quarters.

The quarters themselves were more stacked cubbyholes than anything else resembling a proper room. Piled three high on each side of the railcar they occupied, along with a central row of cubicles, they were just long enough to accommodate an average man laying flat and high enough to allow him to sit up and barely touch his head to the ceiling (or bottom of the upper cubbyhole). Each one had a side opening with a sliding plastic curtain that offered privacy but not much else. Strung between the quarters were clotheslines where laundry hung to dry, and tied to the outsides of the entrances were large bags presumably full of belongings that were not precious enough to be stored inside the actual quarters. The servants themselves appeared to be normal humans, if with slightly otherworldly faces that gave them an elfin quality. Some of them laid within their cubbyholes reading or sleeping, while others sat outside playing cards, arguing, watching small televisions, or using hotplates to warm up water for tea which they shared between each other. As the shinobi entered the railcar, however, all activity stopped as the servants now looked fearfully at them. One of the servants, a female in her twenties, now approached Horo and the genin.

“My Lord Shinobi,” she said, kneeling in front of him and lowering her eyes. “How may we be of service to you?”

 

[Oishi Shichimenchou]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]

"It would be appreciated if someone could get us a nice cup of tea," I said to no one in particular as the bodygaurd Yui left the room, "A nice cup of tea is always good. They said the old Shogun drank enough tea to fill five galleon ships."

As a matter of information, the best tea in the world comes not from Tea Country. The best tea companies are actually to be found in the Occident. These are countries such as Mountain, Valley, Earth, Iron and Craftsmen. Tea Country earned its name not due to the quality of its tea, but because its companies lobbied the Daimyo to change the name in hopes of confusing people about the quality of their tea. The great mass of people were fooled and now drink that awful stuff packaged bags. Real tea leaves aren't to be put in bags, but rather let to mix freely in the cup. Hopefully whoever heard my call for tea was someone of better refinement.

Red Bean Country on the otherhand does in fact have the best red beans you've ever tried. Not that Red Beans are particularly good tasting to begin with.

I gave a short cough as it appeared that there was a silence to allow for me to interject in the squabbling.

"If we are going to argue who should be Shogun might I point out that ideally we wish our next leader to be..." I paused for a moment. Partly to find the most polite way to say it, and partly for the atmosphere. "Of high breeding capacity. We wouldn't have our current crisis if the former Shogun had been more plentiful with his children."

I added, and I said this as seriously as I could, "If we take breeding capacity into account I must strongly suggest against the Daimyo. The word between us female nobles is that he has inadequacy in that area and prefers the company of men. The Prince is preferable in that in his youth he still has many fertile years in him. Unlike others."

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]

Clarification: I am posting a mod in response to Yogi's post only. Don't worry, Souru, this changes nothing that would affect anything you're going to post, and I will make another mod post in response to what you write! For the two genin on this trip, however, one of you is free to notice the fact that Shiranai just destroyed some property and appears to be bleeding and distressed. Could make for some interesting roleplay possibilities. If no one bites, I may assign Senna to Shiranai duty...

At the countess’s suggestion, Kouhei let out a deep, low chuckle, while Ryuu fixed a death-stare at Bakunin now, spidery veins on his forehead engorging and seemingly pulsating in hatred. Daiki, meanwhile, had no commentary to offer, regarding Bakunin with an inscrutable expression. Instead, he took out a fountain pen and began to write, scribbling furiously on a piece of linen-textured paper. Once he was done, he blew on it softly to dry whatever ink might have still run, before folding it and stuffing it into an envelope.

“In fairness to Daimyo Amakusa, Countess, he has expressed that he wishes to save himself for the right woman, which is a trait most honorable in men of the modern era,” said Ami gently, trying to smooth over a worsening situation, and her own urge to giggle. Shiranai now suddenly stood up with a thumping sound, fists on the table as he closed his eyes. All turned their attention to him.

“I’m thirsty. I’m going to go get some tea,” he said, now opening his eyes and showing a strangely serene expression. Mizuki now turned to him.

“Your Highness, I will call for the servants to immediately bring the finest Gyokuro to this room. There is no need to strain yourself…” he began.

“I said I’m getting it myself. I’ll bring extra cups,” responded the Crown Prince, running a hand through his hair before walking off in the same direction as Horo Danshi and the others had, toward the kitchen car.

“At this point, Countess, might I suggest you move that we all take a brief, fifteen-minute recess from the talks?” suggested Ami.

“I’m game for that. Land-ships make me queasy,” said Takumi, getting up to stretch.

Assuming the Cloud Negotiator was in favor of this, the assembled nobility of Lightning now rose from their seats and started to filter out to their quarters, presumably to recharge and regroup. Meanwhile, the train continued to gently and almost imperceptibly sway as it continued through the rolling hills of the countryside. Far off, smoke clouds still rose from the cities.

Mizuki now turned to Bakunin.

“Well, that was a novel way to defuse a loaded question, Countess. You've certainly taught me a thing or two," he said, wryly. "We’ve flustered the Ryuu faction enough that for the next round of talks, he may be more amenable to making some concessions. Oh, by the way, Baron Tsukahara, of all people, wished to pass this correspondence on to you. I have refrained from reading it as honor commands. I’m sure it’s probably an offer to buy you off, a pleasant 'say anything more and I rape and murder you' message, or just one of the man’s semi-literate rambling threats. I mean, can he even into Common? In any case, I will see you in fifteen,” he said, shrugging. The note sat in Bakunin’s hands.

"Marry Me" from the POTC 3 OST​

Spoiler

To Milady Oishi Bakunin,

It is not often that I am wont to take pen to paper, for fear that by expressing my thoughts in ink I bare my soul to the world for ridicule, but for thee I shall make this rarest of exceptions. Thou hast, quite simply, struck me mute and thus I have no alternative.

When I first laid eyes on thee, I was struck by the discovery within myself of some discomforting, smouldering embers still burning in a hearth long untouched by an emotion that I had long ago sought to deliberately smother. But thy words - thine defiance of my master who holds the vulnerable artery of our fragile nation in his grasp and toys with it at his leisure – only served to fan those dying embers into a roaring flame that I fear will overtake me and leave my frame naught but ash.

Milady, if there is but a shred of credence to the sentiment that one can fall in love at first sight, then I believe that it has indeed occurred under these most strange of circumstances, where we sit across from each other as enemies who would cruelly rend each other should we have met on the battlefield. Truly, I am now at a loss for words and have no guidance on how to proceed.

I do not expect thee to respond to this missive, nor to hold me in any sort of favor, though I be a fool among men. Perhaps one day, when our rivers have staunched the flow of crimson and our lands are not bestrewn with the shards of broken swords and dreams, thou will take mercy on my plight and visit me.

-Baron Tsukahara Daiki

Meanwhile​

Shiranai vi Kaminari, the only surviving Crown Prince of Lightning Country, stumbled down the halls of the Raiden’s Breath in a half-run, even knowing that there was no true escape. This train trapped him, and bore him inexorably toward a fate that seemed increasingly beyond his control. He was one of the more powerful medical shinobi to have ever been trained at the Aesculapium, and yet here he was, running away from a group of people with no chakra to their names. As he passed by the path leading to the kitchen car, he was vaguely reminded of his promise to bring cups and tea for the assembled parties. But that could wait.

For now, he had to get away. From that room, from the pressure foisted on him by the Chancellor and the Marshal Admiral, from the sight of his mother who he barely knew any longer, from the mercenary treachery of the Grand Admiral, and from the outright manipulative malice that was the Daimyo. He had been abducted at eight – as a child who had little experience in this world. He had been made into a shinobi against his will, and now the same powers that had turned his world upside down dared to forcibly right it again just as soon as he had grown comfortable with his new situation. Damn you, Sairasu and Koumyou! I wish you bastards HAD killed me back then! Damn you, Chancellor Ami, for finding me! Damn you, Kushin, for letting her! Damn you, Makoro, for starting this war! Damn you, Ryuu, for your scheming! Damn you all! I HATE YOU!

A sudden cracking noise alerted Shiranai to the fact that he had just put his fist through one of the panels lining the railcar he had huddled in. Pulling his fist out, he noticed that he was now bleeding from a deep gash on the palm of his hand. As a medial shinobi, he could have easily healed such a wound, but for now, he simply let it bleed.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this...” he moaned to himself in despair.

No doubt, Nemoto Senna or Mochizuka Tama, however, would have now heard the noise…

 

[Horo Danshi]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]

To the somewhat-mystification of Horo Danshi, for whom obedience was less of an expectation and more of a strange error in the order of the world, the Genin under his charge quietly and quickly filed out of the meeting chamber. Exiting from those lush, velvet-dripping surroundings, they departed in such robotic and correct procession, without as much as a peep or scowl at the abuse-word the Dipshit Kid had heaped haplessly upon their tiny shinobi heads, that they appeared almost automoton-like themselves, animated by a higher narrative power over which they had no control. An errant thought struck the chuunin, something about the urgency of posting in the proper time and order, but Horo Danshi had not sent a letter in better than a year and it was a miracle to himself that he could even read and write, so he really had no idea where the Kumo mail service fit into the present situation.

Anywho.

The group had no sooner exited into the staging area for the reception room, that fairly spacious antechamber where still several aides de camp and minor servants lingered about, when a dark-haired man materialized before them. Well aren't the brass here just plain uppity to have house guards walk around with weapons drawn, the chuunin mused blissfully as he examined the figure before him. ”Lovely swords dear jeevesie!” he complimented, beaming beatifically (read: REAL TERROR) at this man with the naked blades blocking the path of himself and his attendant duckling-nin. ”Only be careful now, there are so many expensive things here don't you think?”

“My deepest apologies for the interruption, Chuunin Hiro,” the armed man began...and said some more things after, as well. But Horo Danshi could not hear him. For in his mind, the voice addressing him had changed, and taken on a quality that was nothing short of the sound of unexpected angels. Trumpets. Fanfare from on high, divine.

Apologies? the twenty-something kumo-nin reflected to himself, a single tear in each eye beading them to blurry confusion. A...apologies? What was this? What were these things? An apology for Horo? Love for the universe filled his heart, and for the briefest moment, the Seikon heritage that sustained the otherwise impossible Horo Danshi overflowed with the pure violence of the love he felt for not just this world, but every world in every universe that his mind could ever touch or hope to touch (and this was all of them). Apology, Horo for an!?! Could this be the ulterior motive of symbiosis? Could this purge me of my transgressions? Is this voracious piety?

The divine apologist for Horo Danshi seemed to be asking for the chuunin's approval, so he gave it with a mute, still-struck nod. And as the man turned to leave, for lack of anything else to do, Horo Danshi simply watched and offered a small, happy wave at the retreating form of the only man for whom he had ever known sexual love.

And then he was gone, and the reverie, in an instant, lifted. The withdrawal was shocking and disappointing. Glum, Horo Danshi kicked the floorboards a little bit, and in another universe, another Horo Danshi exploded in a shower of radioactive goo as the friction of his boot soles ignited the slowly-building oxidants in the floor, the wood and metal barely held together by the whims of god and impractical engineering. Alas, the love of the universe was gone again, and things would need to continue in their ever-spiteful, typical fashion once more.

Horo Danshi prodded his Genin, and pressed on further into the train.</COLOR>

***​

<COLOR color="darkblue">
The servants quarters were distinguishable from the posh luxury of the “better” parts of the train by almost every metric that could be conceived, and as an enjoyer of fine things himself, Horo Danshi felt a shiver of depression run through him for the many bodies crammed into this part of the train. Like a beehive, each man and woman was given only the space required to work and function, and the concessions to this fact played out in every cramped corner and every stretched space that played out here. The woman who had grabbed Horo's crotch (Lightning Country women were truly lovely specimens, weren't they?) had seemed convinced that the wide-eyed urchins in this part of the train were to blame for the trinket that had gone missing, but truthfully, wouldn't this sort know better than to engage in the affairs of those who found a primary pastime in idly discussing the specifics of their wholesale slaughter? Feels bad mang, mused the Dipshit Kid as he parted the military and domestic facts of life that cluttered the corridors of this particular section of the train.

”Listen kids,” Horo said as he walked, hoping that the fledgling shinobi behind him were attending him well (especially through that ridiculous onesie with the ears, I mean super kawaiiiiii-desu abso-Horo-lutely, but could one hear through that outfit, could a body even see? ”No matter what frosted-tips-sama says, just...hear the poor scamps out before you do anything untoward to them, okay? No setting things on fire in the train? No disintegrations? Pretty please?” Would hate for any disintegrating to happen on my watch, total atomization no good for the ozone later no sir no way nope.

And with that, the group pressed into the true heart of the servants' hallways, where the menials went about their business of living, working, sleeping, doing, all the rest. Small lives lived aboard a vessel that, as impressive as it was, must be admitted to being small as well.CUTE EARS a daemonic roar issued from behind the scrim of Horo Danshi's sane mind, and for once, the chuunin had to nod in agreement with the silly bastard. Sasorimura may have seen to the annihilation of (almost 8DDDD) all sexual urgings in the Dipshit Kid....ever...but goodness if he still didn't get the pervey-sama blushing on occasion just out of cultural habituation.

The effect of the shinobi's arrival on the room was immediate and pronounced, but Horo greeted their stares with an idiot smile, and immediately began peering about the room for whatever idiot cracker-jack box prize was the subject of their “mission.” He was still making his lazy first-pass with his eyes, picking out the room's salient features, when a young woman walked up to him, and took a position of supplication before him.

ಠ_ಠ, went Horo Danshi. Be kind, dear readers. This has been an odd day for dear Horo-san, hasn't it?

“My Lord Shinobi,” she said, kneeling in front of him and lowering her eyes. “How may we be of service to you?”

Horo gulped, scratched his head, trying to work away the oddness of the formality of the request, finding it quite, quite hard to actually do so. ”Errrr, well,” he began, OH good START Horo let's show em the old CONFIDENCE TRICK, ”There is, you see. A ring. It is of some importance to the good noble ladies aboard this train, as well as the menfolk! Apparently the fate of the nation is at stake, or some nonsense. Now! Have you seen such an object floating about these parts, innocently misplaced? You would know it by its ostentation and thorough being out-of-place in your particular socio-economic bracket.”

Horo Danshi beamed. He thought he had handled that...rather well.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Re: The Lightning Country Saga, Act 2 Scene 2[Part B]

The servant woman’s face grew a mixture of confusion and bemusement at Horo’s fumbling spewage of verbal diarrhea. Weren’t shinobi supposed to be these rippling, muscle-bound, ebony-skinned, hairless seven-foot-tall gods dressed in flaming golden armor accompanied by winged but equally muscled cherubs named Akira Saito? This one was some pasty-faced, bad-smelling, hadn’t-shaved-in-days dweeb-in-a-flak-jacket whose pockets were overflowing with enough spaghetti to feed Marsh Country’s starving inhabitants for weeks!

“Milord shinobi, from what I gather, you and your companions are looking for an ornate ring belonging to the nobility? Then we must thank you, milord!” she said, prostrating herself before him tearfully. The rest of the servants, who had been listening intently, now also prostrated before Horo and the others. “Yes, our brothers the boilermen reported to us that they had been trying to get rid of a rat’s nest in the holy neutron howitzer for months. When this train departed your village, they noticed that the rats had dropped a shiny ring in the middle of the nest, which matches your description. But our brothers are unfortunate, even though their cause is noble. They cannot leave the engine room for fear that without their constant ministration to the holy boron control rods, the holy fuel rods will show their wrath and consume us all. So they have not been able to inform anyone of this so far. They are also unable to reach the nest, being married to their suits. We beg you, shinobi, please retrieve the ring and spare us the punishment that our masters would inflict on us!”

Assuming Horo and the others had no questions for the pleading servant, it was time to go and do their jobs. The woman had used many terms with which he was unfamiliar. “Neutron,” “fuel rods,” and the like. Regardless, all it probably meant was that they would have to take care not to get burned on hot metal surfaces.

“My Shinobi lords, let me show you the way,” said the servant girl, now rising and bowing deeply. From the servant car to the main engine, the distance was a mere one railcar, which had used to be devoted to fuel storage, but now was mainly used for storage of equipment and miscellaneous tools. Painted on the outside of the main entryway to the engine room, a large and ominous-looking symbol in yellow and black. A small circle with three wedges surrounding it. Regardless, it was the symbol of no known village, clan, or nation, and thus most disregarded it.

As Horo walked by the bulkheads, sending his genin ahead of him (as any responsible handler would do) he suddenly felt a hand clamp over his mouth and an arm wrap around his neck, cutting his circulation off. Before he could think to scream or try to resist, the world grew dark…

</B>

Shortly...​

<i></i>
An unknown amount of time later, he awoke, groggily. From what he could tell, he was in a small maintenance closet with the door shut. He sat in a metal chair, and a woman was straddling him. A woman wearing heels but no underwear. His eyes opened, to find the face of Admiral Reina smiling back at him.

“Privet, handsome boy! I am so glad that you came to meet me like you said you would!” she said, hungrily licking his face. With a quick movement of her hands, she now undid the top button of her blouse, causing her ample bosom to bounce and sway inside her lacy crimson shelf bra slightly as it virtually leapt free of the confines of her shirt. If Horo tried to slink away or protest or even make a peep, he would only find the muzzle of her weapon pressed hard against the side of his throat, and in this rather compromising situation no amount of Seikon timefoolery would help avoid a splattery death.

“Milyj, please forgive me for being late finding you. Those stupid bastards just wouldn’t stop talking! Always about ‘land this’ and ‘armies that,’ it’s so damned boring! I will make it up to you, though,” she said, kissing him now with far too much tongue. Her free hand found the metal buckle securing the ends of Horo’s tactical belt together and deftly undid it, before undoing the snap on his BDU pants and pulling the brass zipper down with practiced ease. Slowly, she slunk to her knees on front of him, crossbolter now held firmly to his gut, angled in such a way that the bolt would assuredly shred his heart on its way to his brainpan. “Now, just relax and let Admiral Barchenowa take good care of you...”

Suddenly, a loud booming noise struck both of their ears, accompanied by an unexpected shaking of the entire train. The lights overhead stated to flicker, and the corridor went dim, red klaxon alarms now starting to blare overhead. A second later, a rapid series of staccato cracking sounds reverberated down the halls – the characteristic sound of repeating bolter fire. Human screams and shouts of panic followed soon after. Reina immediately got to her feet, listening carefully through a narrow gap in the metal door through which she peeked. Past the two of them, a cluster of servants now ran, only to be cut down by a hail of bolts shot into their backs as they fled.

“Bliad!” muttered Reina, motioning for Horo to be quiet for now. More footfalls followed, this time sounding like heavy boots on the metal floors. As the footsteps grew closer, now the two could take a closer look at their source. There were two humanoids, both wearing heavy shock trooper armor and carrying belt-fed auto-bolters. Rather than the expected PMC troopers one might have expected from a Ryuu-ordered assault, however, these bore different patches on their uniforms – an emblem that no one had seen before.

“I take one on left, you take the right!” growled Reina as she now threw open the closet door and rolled into the hall. With her bolter, she emptied a magazine’s worth into the trooper’s back, throwing him forward. Upon seeing that the pistol-caliber rounds had failed to penetrate the heavy armor, she leaped forward, drawing a knife from a hidden forearm sheath and plunging it into the man’s neck. Horo meanwhile, lunged at the other one, grabbing him by the joint between his helmet and carapace, and wrenching him backwards, bashing the back of the man’s skull against the chuunin’s knee. This was enough to dislocate several cervical vertebrae and paralyze him. Kicking aside the helmet, Horo proceeded to stomp the man’s head into a red splatter with chakra-assisted fury.

“Good work, Milyj," said Reina, buttoning her shirt back up. "I promise you that when we have more time I will drain you completely dry, but for now we need to get back to the others!”

<B>Meanwhile​

Most of the parties at the negotiation table had left the room. Chancellor Ami could be seen through a non-frosted portion of the glass window of the door to the conference room with her arms around what looked to be a sobbing Sir Yui, gently stroking the woman’s frosted hair while Mizuki looked on, uncomfortably. Daimyo Ryuu had presumably gone to his quarters, accompanied by Sir Kenta and the Baron Daiki. Grand Admiral Takumi and Vice Admiral Shou seemed to be deep in conversation, and their guard, Admiral Reina, was nowhere to be seen. Marshal General Kouhei and Princess Miyu were discussing something privately and did not look to be open to interruption. Bakunin had almost gotten up to attend to getting herself some tea (as Shiranai had failed to follow through with his original promise), when...

“Countess, if I may have a word with you before the recess ends,” said Brigadier General Izanagi Naoto, now approaching Bakunin. “I have been in contact with the Vice Commander of your ANBU forces. He has been surreptitiously monitoring these channels, and wishes to convey a message to you...”

Suddenly, the sound of nearby explosions and screams cut the stone-faced general off in mid-sentence. Naoto’s hands now morphed into metallic-appearing claws, while Kouhei gently patted Miyu’s hands and told her to duck before drawing his own weapon, a large no-dachi. Yui immediately stopped crying in the far room, drawing her kanabo from its sheath and wrapping Ami in a protective embrace behind one of her free, massive arms, while Mizuki now produced a submachine-crossbolter from the folds of his robes. Takumi and Shou looked at each other and shrugged, the Grand Admiral drawing a brace of massive hand-arbalests from his holsters and his second in command drawing a wicked-looking cutlass. The door flew open now, and Ryuu now stumbled into the room, panting and out of breath, nearly carried by Sir Kenta, who held a basket-hilted sword in his free hand. The sword noticeably dripped with blood, which was spattered across both men’s faces. A few moments later, Baron Daiki flew in as if sliding into home base, firing his crossbolter at the outside before shambling to his feet and slamming the door shut.

“They seriously want to kill us!” he whined, his voice showing more exasperation than true fear. “Fuckers!”

“Ryuu! What is the meaning of this?!” roared Kouhei, pointing his no-dachi at the ragged-looking daimyo. Kenta in turn pointed his sword at the general in warning. “Are you trying to assassinate us because you’re not getting your way?!”

“Don’t you dare touch me, idiot!” hissed Ryuu in response. “I have nothing to do with this! Our attackers tried to kill me too!”

“Bullshit!” said Kouhei, now changing to a battle stance, before a burst of static now deafened everyone. On the low-resolution monitors situated around the room, a face now appeared – a somewhat wild-eyed, vicious-looking man.

“Hello, Ryuu, I’ve invited myself aboard. And a few friends,” said Count Seiji Souta, cackling. Ryuu, having momentarily forgotten about Kouhei, now approached a screen.

“Souta!!! What is the meaning of this?! And how the hell are you still alive?! I read your death report myself!” he fumed.

“Indeed, my dear Daimyo, what is the meaning of this? I wondered that myself while I lay on the ground in Purippuyatto, bleeding to death, my arm shredded and my jaw laying on the ground next to me. Then I realized something – that it wasn’t the shinobi sniper team in that city who actually tried to kill me. It was you all along. How else could they have known that I was meeting with the MUSHA company at that day at that time? Don’t try to defend yourself. I saw the letters you wrote to the Marshal General about it. Our mutual shinobi friend showed me,” said Souta, holding up a sheaf of papers with Ryuu’s signature on the bottom. Amakusa’s knuckles turned white as he balled them into fists, realizing who that “friend” was.

“Makoro! You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you!” he growled. He turned his attention to Souta again, sighing. “I guess there's no use hiding it, Souta. You were a liability. Don't get me wrong, I valued your counsel. Hell, I’m grateful for it. You’re the one responsible for the size of my armies today. But I’m about to be Shogun. I can’t be seen as condoning your...your sick little torture butchery-fest in that dungeon of yours. It’d be one thing if it were street hookers and beggars you were turning into shitty modern art, but when it’s kids, no one’s going to tolerate that. It’s just bad business! I had to sell you out!”

“Dear Ryuu, I am afraid we must part ways. Makoro has a little surprise planned for all of you, and he trusts me to give him the biggest bang possible. Tell His Majesty the Crown Prince that if he wants to avoid being turned into goo, he's advised to come straight to me.” he said, turning to shut off the monitor on his end.

“Wait a minute!!” growled Ryuu, pointing at the screen. “How the hell did you even survive getting shot like that? Didn’t your face get turned to pulp? How are you even talking?!”

Souta stopped in mid-turn, and smiled at Ryuu. Slowly, deliberately, the fingers of a mechanical arm reached under a fold in his chin, and with a sickening sound, peeled off what was now revealed to be a latex mask. The other nobles who had been watching now recoiled with disgust.

“Look on your work, my dear friend!”

The screen went dark.

To Be Continued...
"Nothing's Carved in Stone" from the Zetsuen no Tempest OST​

This ends Scene 2. Scene 3 will begin soon. For all those who did not get to post but still wish to, you can still do so.