Fallen Sky

[Duvet de Mot]

The wind had gone and started whispering again, through the glass, sand, and metal, Hiro heard it's talk loud and crystal. Word 'round the town was that some of the clans had taken to disliking the Kusagari blockade and had been plotting to bring it down. Something like that, anyways. Who knew? Every few days or so was something different. Whether it be jealousy at the Cascon's and their kin or anger toward Garrison, the clans weren't much particular on who they hated so long as they got to hate someone most of the time. Hiro shook his head a bit: the clans never did stand by an alliance long, so he didn't find the talk troubling. It'd blow on through the city and into the sand. That's what the wind did when it whispered.

Standing on the edge of Kusagari Tower, Hiro's eyes swept cross the golden buildings along the eastern city. The setting sun warmed Hiro's back even as the view of the Cascon's territory sent a chill all up through him. He may have been the Wall of Blades, but their guns sent a fright through him he couldn't quell. Living forever, huh? Hiro didn't see the sense. Fighting for your life out here wasn't so much to live as to keep your family and your friends on breathing. But them Cascons could just keep on going, lest they had their heads taken clean off... That was a point of pride for Clan Garrison: they trained on how to take off the heads of those they didn't much care for.

The wind rushed in at once against Hiro's face - a cool wind that shocked his senses deaf and dumb - and forced to remember that woman... Nameless. He didn't feel right giving her a name when he'd never learned her real one, so he just let it alone. The woman was far as he ever got in his head, though sometimes her face was enough of a name. It was more of an identity than a name, anyhow. A beautiful thing to behold, surely, yet he was sure she would sooner forget his than hold it in her memory. Hiro shuddered at the thought of how she would seem to him now... The same is what she'd be. The whole mess was right unnatural, but somehow she just seemed right to him somehow, like she meant more than she should've. And maybe she did. The angel of death who couldn't die. The woman who'd sent them away like beggars at the gate... Why couldn't he -

"Buredo Kabe!"

Hiro, lost in his thoughts, hadn't even noticed the three Defenders walking towards him from the door at the top of the tower. Turning to face them, Hiro grabbed his hat from off of the roof, brushed it off on his coat, and placed it down on his head while the center man continued speaking to him.

"Your father sent us up to keep watch. Says it'd be best if you went down and mingled with the clan. They're growing tired of the fighting. And with Garrison and Genji at it more than's usual, they want some sort of assurance or something."

Brushing past them, Hiro nodded, his voice barely audible over the cool wind chasing the sun. "My father always has something to say doesn't he? Keep warm, Takeo. Oyasumi nasai." And then continued below. Hi hoped that chance had taken a shine to them and the clans wouldn't think tonight a good night to attack. He would take it as a certain kindness.

[Eva]

Today was the last day of Suna's contract with the Kigurashi.

As she trudged into her sparse home with her dark brown tote bag over her shoulder, Suna's mind was focused only on what to do next. Her past two weeks had been fairly uneventful, and the Kigurashi pay wasn't so bad. But she didn't want the other clans to think she was throwing her lot in with them too much.

Suna poured a glass of water from a jug and sat down in her living room, relaxing for the moment. As she drank her water, Suna's mind drifted to a looming fact: She was getting older, and one day she would have to firmly align with a clan. As it stood, she certainly had no intentions of creating a long-term alliance with the Genji or Garrison clans. So that left her three options.

Suna threw on her worn brown jacket and glimpsed at herself in the long, somewhat cracked and dull mirror propped against her left wall. Taking care to make sure that she had her purse full of important papers, money, and various other day-to-day necessities, the mercenary stepped outside of her apartment and into the day again.

Suna lived in the east of San Angeru, under de Cascon territory. It was a decent place to live, as de Cascon activity rarely bothered anyone who lived around them. Suna knew that she was always being watched, even when she was working with the Cascon. Stepping onto the street, Suna knew exactly where to go: left, then right for a couple blocks until she found where Bati was based.

It didn't take long for Suna to reach Bati, and when she did her friend held his arms out and let out a cheerful "Ohayo!". Suna returned the greeting and sat down in her friend's small restaurant, a somewhat cracked, unimpressive adobe building with a few wooden chairs surrounding a bar table, behind which Bati himself stood. An older man with laugh lines and crow's feet for days, Bati looked every bit the grizzled bartender.

"You need a ride, yeah?" Bati asked as he cleaned out a glass. "I have some people to see. Business to take care of." Suna answered. Bati laid down a glass of watered-down whiskey for her. "Big strong woman can't walk a few blocks, maji!" he laughed. Suna gave him a bored look. "I'm tired, Bati. Don't put me through the ringer." she complained. Suna took a drink of the whiskey then. "You serve the worst alcohol in the city. If you didn't help people get rides you'd be broke." she said matter-of-factly. Bati laughed. "And if you weren't so good at killing people you'd be broke, bonkura."

Suna smiled and reached into her purse. "How much will I need to pay for the whiskey and the ride to the Kusagari tower?" she asked as she took money out. Bati tipped his head slightly. "You sure that's who you want to work with right now, Suna? People are talkin' about that blockade. Don't like it one bit. I don't like it one bit, but don't let that fool you." he warned her. "They offered the most, Bati. That's my policy." Suna replied. Bati shook his head. "Bad policy for staying alive, kid. I'll put this one on your tab if you promise to lay low for a bit." he offered. Suna smiled and raised her glass. "Promise." she said.

It was a short ride on horse from Bati's restaurant to Kusagari tower. The man giving Suna her ride, a friend of Bati's son, didn't say much to her aside from hello. But when he dropped her off, he did say one thing. "Is it true that Kusagari can turn their skin to stone?" he asked. "Only half true." Suna replied, giving the boy some money for his trouble. He rode off, and Suna approached the tower, and it's guards. "I'm Sunaina Santhanakrishnan." she said, using the surname that the Kusagari knew her by. Unless something was really wrong, she would be let in.

[Duvet de Mot]

Yuji recognized the woman's name immediately as she had spoken it; Sunaina was perhaps the best known hired gun in the city and she'd shown up at their front door without warning as the sun had begun to set into the dangerous night. The tall Defender lifted the dingy brim of his brown hat a few inches and appraised the woman. There didn't appear to be anything special about the woman before him besides her general demeanor and sense of purpose, but she would not have shown up on their front step without business. "Welcome to the Kusagari Tower, Miss Sunaina." Nodding to the other Defender beside him, Yuji motioned for Sunaina to move on ahead of him as the heavy, armored doors creaked open, dust and sand spraying into the air from their base as they retreated into the walls. "I'll be takin' you on up to the 12th floor to meet with Buredo Kabe. I’m sure he’ll be wantin’ to sort things out before night comes round.” Following closely behind Sunaina, Yuji realized just how many times she had probably gone through this exact routine as she walked straight towards the large lift doors, waiting patiently for Yuji to activate the lift.

Pressing his hand against the square white panel to the left of the large silver doors, Yuji watched as both the panel and the doors to the lift glowed with an eerie blue light. He had always wondered how this building could produce such wonders so regularly, but anytime he’d asked he had been met with the same answer, “The Flash took away what was probably best unknown.” The other Defenders spoke no more on the subject than his clan did, finding their training more interesting than anything that went and powered it.

Within seconds the lift had opened, allowing them access to its pure white interior (something Yuji found particularly off-putting) and within seconds they’d arrived on the 12th floor. As with most things around the city, the lifts in the Kusagari Tower acted on thought alone: a useful tool for those in a hurry. Stepping forward, Yuji and Sunaina found themselves standing within a hallway as the lift doors closed behind them - swift and mysterious as with most things in the city. Yuji led Sunaina down the corridor to a large white-walled room at the end of the hall with nothing but a long black table and several black chairs, all blocky and appearing to be made from some form of dark stone. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sunaina. Have a good evenin’. Oyasumi nasai.”

__________________________

Trudging down the dingy stairs to meet with his father, Hiromasa considered his father’s recent actions in forming the blockade. At it’s outset, Hiro had understood and agreed with the decision, but now it was degrading into a light form of tyranny. It was one matter to blockade the central city to prevent the clans from engaging in conflict; however, Shunji had taken it a step forward and blockaded any traders or caravans from passing through the territory either. Vehicles only made it past checkpoints if they’d been approved. There had to be a better way.

“Hiro!”

Hiro turned around, looking up towards the door he’d just passed. Airi, one of his childhood friends leaned from the door, her black hair stringing together on her face as she called for him. Grinning slightly, Hiro walked towards her, “Doushita?” His eyes peered down at her from under his hat, considering her blue eyes and stringy, yet full hair even as she responded. “That Sunaina woman’s waitin’ on you in the back room. Yuji told me to tell ya.” Airi’s eyes betrayed her. She’d long since been infatuated with him and he had, for a time, felt the same; however, after he had returned from his conflict with the ‘de Cascon, they’d grown apart. She had many times asked him about it: whether there was another woman in his life or if he’d met someone from another clan, but Hiro didn’t have the heart to tell her he was holding his horses for someone he’d never even spoken to. “Thank you, Airi. Could you do me the favor of tellin’ my father? He’ll be wonderin’ where I went on off to.” Hiro smiled at the young woman for a moment before tipping his hat and walking past her, leaving Airi to her own devices. Walking down the corridor, a bit more brisk in step, Hiro approached the large flat white doors, tossing the right one open and quickly closing it back as he entered.

Removing his hat, Hiro smiled at the woman who sat waiting on him. It had been a while since he’d met with Suna, but he was glad she was on their side now, especially with the blockade receiving the backlash that it was. “Sure am glad to see a friendly face around here. You wouldn’t believe the mess they been puttin’ me through.” Hiro strode up to the table, tossing his hat onto it and kicking his boots up as he sat down. “So, how’s business?”

[Eva]

Suna gave a half-smile to Hiro's question. "I'm making a killing." she said, not entirely sure why she felt like making such a lame joke. She quickly became serious, however. "I'm here to negotiate another contract!" she said, taking some papers and a worn-down pencil from her bag. "But before we start with the boring numbers and that kuso, there's a problem." she added. Hiro nodded and let her continue.

"The Kigurashi are really, really unhappy about the blockade. Obviously, most people are, but I found out how much they dislike it while I was working with them." Suna slid some papers over to Hiro and waited for him to start reading them. "They're talking about making a big strike out against this blockade, Hiro. They're making deals all over the place for supplies and men." Sunaina explained while Hiro went through the documents. "Delivering those messages was my last assignment on my contract. I told them I lost the message bag in an ambush. They weren't happy, but they believed me. I think."

"I thought you were content to just be neutral?" Hiro asked her. Suna stood up and shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't like where the Kigurashi are going with this. Open warfare in the streets aren't my idea of a good time." she explained. "Why bring them to us?" was Hiro's next question. Suna bit her lip. "I can't bring them to the Cascon, they wouldn't do anything. The Garrison would only exacerbate things further. The Genji would also fly off the handle. I brought them to you because your clan is at the center of this."

Suna folded her arms and sighed. "So here's my deal. In exchange for what I've brought you, you find a place for me in this damn clan. I'd like to think you've always wanted me on your side, but let's not get mushy." Suna cocked her head and waited for the answer.

[Vale]

Beyond the path of least resistance lies a downhill journey. When and where is the point when you transition from running to falling?
Garett believed that everything was connected, for decades he had watched. Observed. Recognized and dispatched. He no longer felt the caring caress of the daily trivialities that the other clans battled over. He felt no reason to care or feel sympathetic any longer.

For a man who lives forever, he certainly felt like he had died years earlier.

Garett stood, gazing from atop the de Cascon Observatory. The Observatory was more of a laboratory and academy of sorts than an actual 'observatory'. This was the focal point of de Cascon clan life-- Where knowledge of all shapes, sizes, forms, and mediums were collected, documented, and organized. It felt reassuring to the man that Guy had become. There was certainty within knowledge, a certainty that no longer echoed the plight of man, but immortalized his triumphs. Anders, in his own great wisdom, had established Garett as the Premier Direct of L'ecole de Chimie et Biologie. A scientist, he was---in title alone.

One of the defining characteristics of the pursuit of knowledge, was determination. The major function of knowledge, was gained via observation. That was the true purpose of Garett's mission, as assigned by Anders the last time they spoke. That when he had the time and desire, was to continuously collect more pieces for the Observatory. A task in which Garett knew no end to. Perhaps that was the punishment for his crimes against his oldest friend. Perhaps. Uncertainty lies within hypothetical questions and scenarios. Within uncertainty however, lies unlimited possibility.

As the breeze passed along his near impeccable face, he sighed in solemn regret and remorse.
“Like sand before the tides, they build up their walls. I wonder, whether or not the dreamers can overcome the night, or will they become lost in the tidal pull of eternal sleep.” Garett mused to himself rather lazily. “My own muse, weaves a web of trust and mistrust. A bard in her own right.”

[NicoJoe]

At the very corner of Garrison territory, just adjacent to the City Center and the blockade that had been getting much word of mouth of late, sat a small saloon simply called “Hiccups”. It was a place for the underbelly of the Garrison Clan to copulate and kick the dust off their feet after a long day of work. In every regard, it was nothing special; little more than a drab, medium sized house with a bar and a plethora of whores who’s only purpose was to take the mind of a lowly farm hand away from his life for a moment. No one with any clout within the clan ever spent time there, they had much classier establishments in which they could fornicate with some privacy, but that never stopped Archie from frequenting Hiccups.

On this particular night (or evening, since the sun hadn’t quite fallen over the horizon yet), Archibald sipped a drink while staring out the window at the blockade. He’d been there for hours, since he’d had nothing else of note to do that day, but had only developed a slight buzz from the watered down booze. Still, that was enough to get him thinking that he could march up to those damn guards and give them something to do other than searching any horse that looked suspicious to them. In fact, he knew he could kill them before they knew he was even there, he wouldn’t have to get out his seat or set his drink down. He thumbed the holster of the revolver on his right hip and imagined blowing the heads off of the two idiots closest to the bar. No, it wasn’t them he was worried about, rather the onslaught of Kusagari that would come filing out of that tower afterwards that kept his weapon holstered. Sighing, he turned away from the window and headed to the bar to order another drink.

Upon sitting at the bar and receiving his drink, a woman (a whore by Archie’s estimation) joined him. She was a sight to behold and Archie certainly beheld her: The way her dress clung to every curve of her body, the seductive “come hither” pout on her fiery red lips, the cascades of curls rolling lusciously down her pale skin all screamed of raw and primal sexuality.

“Hey, Sugar,” her voice was deep and husky, inviting to any man’s ears and constricting to his pants, “you lookin’ for a good time?”

Archie smiled, contemplating what it might be like to bed this woman and wondering how much it would cost him. Any other night, he would have turned on the charm that launched a thousand lays and more than likely gotten a free lay, but he knew he simply wasn’t in the mood for such a thing. Instead, he swiveled in his chair and looked deep into her crystalline eyes as he spoke, “I reckon you’ve fucked your fair share of the men around these parts, right miss?” The look of shock on her face was priceless to Archie and he couldn’t help but slap his knee with vigor and he gave off a loud, booming laugh.

“Usse, you bastard!” she said, starting to get up and leave him to his own devices, but Archie wasn’t done with her so he grabbed her dainty wrist and pulled her back into her seat. His eyes held hers with sheer intensity.

“Now, now, I meant no disrespect!” he announced, calming her down with his tone. “I only ask because, well, you’re clearly a prostitute and I’m curious, is all. So, for curiosity’s sake, tell me. How many men in here have you ‘made the beast with two backs” with?”

The woman paused for a moment and then looked down into her lap. For about thirty seconds, she said and did nothing and Archie simply waited. Eventually, she lifted her head and surveyed the room before staring back at Archie. “17,” she replied quietly.

“17,” he mused, stroking his chin and looking about the room at the unimpressive lot of men. “An’ of these 17 men, how many of them didn’t make your skin crawl at their touch?”

She was silent, which was more of an answer than an unwillingness to respond. Archie nodded and stood before downing the rest of his drink. “Sweetheart,” he said, looking at the rack of bottles behind the bar rather than at the woman, “a word of advice. War is coming. And in a war, a lot of awful things go down, killing being only the most well known. Terrible things happen to women like you, things that will keep you up at night for years after they happen if you aren’t lucky enough to take a bullet to the brain right after it’s over. And the worst part is, all while it’s happening, the yaro who’s doing it to you will be thinking about how he’s just taking what seventeen men have paid good money for. You won’t even be a woman he’s fuckin’, you might as well be a warm arm chair he’s penetrating. I suggest you find a new line of work before he shows up to make you the worst piece of furniture in this kusohole of a bar.” With that, Archie tipped his hat to the tear stricken woman and strolled out of Hiccups.

[Vale]

“Hanashi ga aru, Director.” A voice broke Garett out of his usual absentmindedness.
“Hm? Doushita no?” Garett, although initially apathetic about such lower dialects, felt the young researcher should at least be greeted in such a manner.
“Intelligence reports sir.” She, approached him from one of the open doors on the Observation deck, “it appears that your initial thesis was correct, sir.” She came to his side, unsure and uneasy when it came to being in his presence. “What you initially proposed as rumors, are gaining more support. I have a request from Lord Anders.”

Silence came to the already still room, “Baka..”
“Oh? I'm sorry sir!” The female researcher was startled by Garett's response to the request from Anders. She had been privy to some of the rumors surrounding the two—but never had actually met or interacted with either of them. “If you'd like I could.”
“It will not be necessary. I know what he will ask of me. Thank you for your assistance fille.” He spoke , returning to his aloof stature and sense of being. “You may leave.”

After the girl quickly hurried out of the room, Garett had sighed. He did not return from his travels just to travel some more. For decades he had been a glorified errand boy to Anders, all the while his 'leader' had just stood by inactive, like a statue long forgotten to the deep. Whoever it was that Anders wanted found, they certainly were important.

“Forgiveness...” He said softly as he opened the missive to quickly go over last minute specifics---last location, personal information, useful pieces like that.

“...Shoukin kasegi.” He sighed, turning to leave the missive on a nearby table. A bar was his location---and his target---a lady.