Kuro no Tsurugi (Pitch-Black Sword) [Another original Rp by Kio][PG-13 - Started/Not accepting]

[Asriel Dreemurr]

Shin practically caught the scent of the salami as it was taken out of the man's pack. He was comfortable in deciding that the person was a man, mainly because of the sound of his voice being rather masculine. Regardless, his gaze immediately snapped back over to him as he looked the Salami over, hunger evident in his gaze. First, however, the young girl had asked him a question so he chose to answer it.

"Well..." He dug through his money bag, pulling out the whole of his collection of ill gotten Allegretian coin. He set the lot of it down on the ground in front of the girl, again wondering how someone apparently so young had managed to survive the desert conditions. Anyways, the pile of currency added up to be about an entire years worth of daily wages for the typical citizen of Allegretto. "I hope this is enough."

He then turned to face the man he still assumed was from Nihonshin, suspicious but made a bit bolder than he normally would have been in the situation because of his hunger.

"I will tell you everything I've heard as to the Pitch-Black Sword's location" He began, turning his entire form to look the man directly in the face. "In exchange for that Salami." He remained positioned as he was, even as an errant gust of wind directly in his face managed to push back his hood and fully reveal his visage. Though his expression denoted no emotion, he seemed nervous because of the hunger-induced shaking. Despite this, his gaze held an intensity which one would expect from a hardened criminal. His grey eyes remained locked with those of the fellow who was almost certainly poorly prepared for the conditions of the desert, moreso than himself.

[Hydra of Ages]

Dubhe squinted at the cloaked man hard for a few seconds. Harsh lines across the face, dark eyes, hair like charcoal and a cloak equally black- yes, the famed Shin no Hoshi truly looked absolutely nothing like his wanted poster.

Where were the red eyes gleaming with hellfire? His arm should have been metallic, replaced with that of a silver devil that he killed by forcing it to strangle itself with his own bare hands. Also, he should have had some number of bat or angel wings, at least six more swords tucked in various places, and hair down to his waist. Almost disappointing, really. That theatrical production about the 'true life of the Shin no Hoshi' was going to end up [i]so [/i]inaccurate at this rate.

The guy was also plainly starving. Normally he might have waited for the guy to tell his information before giving him the goods, but in all honesty Dubhe wasn't sure he'd be able to stay concious for that long- despite his vast amount of funds, it was plain he hadn't prepared at all for the trek across the sizeable desert.

"...Fine," he said after a second, as he handed the serial killer his salami in exchange for information on a lost sword. Dubhe had the vague feeling this wasn't the most nonsensical thing that would happen on his quest by far.

There was also the matter of the young girl's canned goods. He reached into his collar, and after a moment pulled a pair of spectacles on a chain from a hidden pocket; the glasses hung oddly from his face as he picked up and checked the labels marked on a couple of the cans. After a second, he glanced back at his eggs.

"If you want, I could make a pretty decent meal for us all here from our supplies," he said after a moment. His cooking had been pretty popular in the mess hall, though he was used to using slightly fresher ingredients. He glanced around briefly for any dry wood he could use to stoke a fire.

-

Blues waved his hand, shaking his head. "Titles are trivial. I've seen more lords act like asses than I have nobility. Also, I'm pretty we'll end up collectively drunk enough that by the end of the night, we'll have called eachother every name and appellation we can conjure up from the depths of our politeness."

He took a sip. "For now, Blues'll do though."

He didn't have much opinion of the new drinkers that had appeared, though the woman wasn't unattractive. He might have made a move if she didn't smell like knives and danger, a scent he'd long grown to recognize hanging off of seekers of the Black Sword. He very nearly snorted into his drink at that thought- there were still people searching after that old relic? How terrible it must be to dedicate your life to something so fundamentally pointless. Chances are, you'd go home years older and nothing to show for it but broken bones and a lighter coinpurse.

Even worse; you might actually find the damned thing. Then where would we all be?

[Enrise]

Miekka gave a retort to Blues' words. "Politeness? What the hell's the point in politeness in a bar? This a place to drink and get drunk, have a damn good time, and not worry about what kind of sh*t the world is going to throw at someone."

"But. I have to agree with you on quite a number of nobility. It's hilarious that they think the common rabble is the scum of society, and they act worse. It's almost as bad as wasting your life looking for some stupid sword that's probably dust." She guzzled down her glass, and beckoned for another. She was obviously referring to the Pitch-Black Sword. Many people often thought she was searching for the sword; she could honestly care less about it.

"For now you can call me Whisper." It was her name while she remained in the country of Allegretto. Anywhere else, she used her real name, she was born in Allegretto after all, so most people would be named musically.

Kozah intruded on Miekka's words for this part.

"Well. I agree with you halfway on the notion of bars; a place to get drunk and have a good time, but it's also where you can meet new friends." Finishing a large glass, and without turning directions, mentioned his name. "Kozah. Kozah Vulon. My name and nothing more."

Miekka put down her glass on the counter, and had a thought. [i]Wasn't I supposed to do something? Something some dude's son? Was it Vulon?[/i] The thought reverberated through her head. She move the glass in a stationary circular motion, as if it were dancing, trying to remember what it was she was supposed to remember. Then, it finally occurred.

"Vulon, right?"

"Yeah. You have something you wish to say?"

"Yeah. Your father said hi. Or he misses you, or whatever stupid sh*t he said. I don't remember." She finished the glass, and reclined for a bit.

"... Yeah. That's just like him. Missing the only family he has left."

Kozah gave a, sad, smile. Kozah never knew his mother, and all he had was his father, and vice versa. They lived together, they worked together. They had a close bond, something they made up for the lack of his mother. He downed his refill, and looked over to Miekka's bladed wings, and just had the notion to ask. "Let me guess. Did my old man forge those wings?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I see. So the old man can still forge blades. Alright. That's all I wanted to know."

The sudden talk of Kozah's father has left him feeling a bit of homesick. He did think often of his father, true, but hearing his father's words about him, and even though indirectly, gave him much to think about. The fun times. The travels. The bandits... The Moon Esper......

[Jolta]

"Well, that is a good idea, I don't really mind at all..." Alhena spoke softly in response to Dubhe. "We are still in the desert so in times like this I bring some firewood..."
With that, Alhena dipped into her bag and from it emerged a few handfuls of twigs. "Always prepare. Always prepare..."

[center]~~~[/center]

Kitsune simply continuously asked for another nine vodkas, before she walked out of the bar. In a catwalk-like manner.
She looked up at the sky, noting the starry night. "It is just so late. I believe I will fight crime tomorrow."
However, she decided to scamper around town before looking for an inn. Gazing upon the scenary with her dubious mask and rather tell-tale fox ears and nine tails.
"First of all, I must take a good look at this town. I lack information..."

[ListenToLife]

Nikko shook his head and chuckled. "Ah, you presume what I meant. All I wished to know was your names. I am as far away from Nobility as you can get, I dont have [i]that [/i]kind of title." He grinned and drained the third cup of - well, of whatever the liquid was - and listened to each of them as they spoke, introducing themselves.
The first person that had spoken his name seemed quite the loner: A man by the name of Ashe, who seemed to be content with ignoring them and just drinking - though it was obvious he had been listening to some degree, for he had answered the question.
The second was a seemingly kind-hearted man who went by 'Blues', though Nikko heavily doubted that was his name, for it was very Allegretian, and the man was obviously not from the area. He didn't seem like an initial threat, but the size of the man as well as his multiple scars seemed to ooze the fact that he wasn't someone to be messed with.
Next was a guy roughly Nikko's age, one who seemed like a proffessional killer due to the multitude of strange weapons adorning his body, most notably two on his shoulders. He seemed obviously Arcadian, and had the build of someone who had grown up around the Anvil. Kozah was what he called himself it seemed.
Last was a young women who, despite not looking it, seemed to act the most aggressive of them all, mentioning about throwing politeness out the window. She seemed to go by the name of Whisper, another obviously Allegretian name, but Nikko was closer to believing that as her real name than Blues'. But he had his doubts.

Altogether they seemed like a strange bunch, him included, but he smiled. Something in the back of his mind nagged that this wasn't the last time he'd see this group. [i]The Blade of the Night. The Pitch-Black Sword[/i]. He thought.

He quietened down as a conversation started between the Kozah and 'Whisper', and turned instead to Blues. "So, what brings you to Harmony? You dont look like you're from around here."

[Asriel Dreemurr]

Shin no Hochi seemed like a child on Christmas morning as he was handed the Salami and he immediately ripped a chunk off of it which he stuffed into his mouth. Shortly thereafter he realized that he had been overambitious and now had a piece of Salami stuck in his mouth. He sat down in the sand and then set what was left of the whole down on his lap before removing the metallic gauntlet from his right hand, exposing a hand that was absolutely normal. The gauntlet, with the barrel emerging from the back of the hand portion, was set on his lap next to the Salami and was actually about twice the size of the hand which it had been worn over. Once his hand was free, he began trying to pull the larger than recommended chunk of salami from his mouth.

He did manage to succeed in removing it and held it in his right hand before taking a more manageable bite out of it. In the meantime, he noticed the conversation regarding the fellow from Nihonshin cooking up a meal for the lot of them. Given that his mouth was full, he showed his support for the idea by tossing what was left of the Salami, about three quarters of what he had been given, back towards their cook for the evening. It wasn't until he had finished the piece of Salami he had been eating that he remembered the promise he'd made.

"Firstly, I do think that your idea for preparing a meal for our little hodgepodge group is a pretty good one." Even as he said this, his gaze kept darting between those who had become a group of sorts there in the Oasis. He didn't show it on the outside, but he was certainly nervous and wanting greatly to be alone at that moment. However, these people had managed to ward off his starvation in exchange for money which he wasn't likely going to be able to use and information which keeping was not a priority for him at the moment.

"Now onto the subject of the sword," He began, ignoring the growling his stomach was making as eating had only reminded him of how hungry he really was, "I've heard several rumors, a few of them contradictory. The most popular suggests that the sword never existed at all, the one immediately following it suggests that the sword was a gift from some deity or another and was taken back once the Warrior died." He paused for a moment there, taking time to finish off eating the piece of salami which he'd torn off the end of the half. "But then there is a particular rumor. One I've been operating off the assumption of its truth for the past month. On the side of Harmony City opposite this one there is a crypt, reportedly guarded by all sorts of creatures out of legend. Allegedly, the hilt of the sword is hidden there. It's the best lead I've come across yet...also the safest."

[Hydra of Ages]

"Hm. A crypt?" Dubhe muttered, mostly to himself. That might be a little difficult, breaking into a grave. Then again, stealing from the dead was preferable to stealing from the living, and that was more direction than he had five minutes ago. He nodded, slowly, as he took off his glasses and stowed them safely again, selecting a few cans of dried meats and vegetables from the young girl's stock and gathering up a few sticks she had provided. Then, with the wood arranged properly, he drew Suzaku from her sheathe, and with a single twirl through the air, stuck the spearlike sword directly into the center of the mass; it burst into flame almost immediately, calling forth a manageable roaring inferno that spread quickly to the fuel next to it.

He left Suzaku in the center of the flames and walked over to his satchel to retrieve a small black pan, well-worn yet in excellent condition. A small hole carved into the end of the handle allowed him to slide it over the wooden pole that served as Suzaku's grip, suspending it above the roaring flames, and cracked both of his dusty eggs into the pan before throwing away the shells. He removed a small knife from his satchel, and used that to pierce the cans holding the ingredients he needed, as well as cut them into smaller pieces.

"So," he said as he started to work, "What should I be calling you three?". He hadn't wanted to be the first one to ask, but he wasn't about to cook for a faceless group. It was a bit rude to ask without giving his own name first, but then that would be an unprovoked lie and Dubhe figured he should at least try for some class.

He added the salami and vegetables, chopped into fine bits, to the pan with a hiss.

- - -

Blues snorted a little. Slightly less dignified than he usually held himself, but the hell, he was drunk.

"Sorry, I was usin' an old Allegrassan thing called sarcasm. By 'politeness' I meant we'd be insinuatin' eachother's parents copulated with a donkey," he muttered. At the very least, the woman seemed to think chasing after the fabled sword was a fool's errand- which illicited his curiosity, he had to admit. Not many people travelled around nowadays if it weren't in pursuit of the damned sword, and he couldn't really see why anyone else would subject themselves to that without some sort of reasoning behind it. There wasn't a single day Blues didn't regret leaving Scorpio.

He shrugged a little at the next question.

"Life, mostly. Harmony's my home now," he muttered. "Or rather, this bar is. Might as well be. Sleep here half the time."

[Enrise]

"Sarcasm huh? Must've missed it."

Finally, the drink has started to get to her, along with the others possibly. It's been days since she had a good drink, ever since she stepped onto the desert sands that dried her of her hydration. She barely made it out of the Melody Desert, and had it not been for her determination to find her way out of the dunes that drowned her, she'd probably end up as sand sooner or later.

She also overheard Blues mention that this bar was his home, or something to the extent of it being his home.

"Home huh?"

Pausing for a few seconds, looking around the bar itself, and continued. "Well... Better than my hell hole..."

She remembers her days back on Black Metal Mountain, where she worked as a little kid, mining minerals. Sure, the house she lived in wasn't that bad, so to speak; she had a place to stay, had food in the fridge, had a comfortable bed. The view from Black Metal Mountain was however beautiful. Spectacular even. It made stay on that rock a little more bearable. The only thing she hated was the work she was forced to do, and inside of a mountain no less; it could have caved in at any time, leaving her trapped forever. I guess that's why she never liked going in caves, and loving being outside.

Kozah still sat in the chair, and having his head down, he was either too drunk to continue, or just tired. He was drunk, like the others, but not overly poisoned however. He was tired, granted, but not to the point where he was about to fall asleep at any moment. He was thinking about his home. Asgard, a beautiful place it was. It has been ages since he been there. He entertained the thought of going back.

[Asriel Dreemurr]

The smell wafting up from the pan as the ingredients which would compose the evening's meal practically had Shin drooling the moment it hit his nostrils. While his hunger had been dulled by the small piece of salami, he was still in a state of near starvation and was looking very much forward to his first meal in over a week. However, something didn't seem right to him about this whole situation.

[i]"That man has to be from Nihonshin."[/i] He thought as his grey eyes found their way to the strange male again. [i]"And yet he hasn't tried to apprehend me. This whole situation could be leading into a trap. Still, I can tell by the way he carries himself that he is a warrior and no self-respecting warrior of Nihonshin would try something underhanded like that[/i][i]. Maybe he'll wait long enough for me to recover before trying anything, but his question about the sword casts doubt on any thought that he could have come here seeking me. This is good."[/i]

"Based on the way that you were eying me earlier, I'm guessing you already have some idea as to who I am." He said this in a flat and even tone as he took the time to force his mouth shut so that the drool flowing out would stop. He made to reaffix the gauntlet to his right hand, a quiet hum of arcane mechanisms coming to life filled the air as he tested the flexibility of the fingers. He then set the hand down on his lap and the humming ceased, or became too quiet to be heard by normal human ears. "That being the case, introducing myself is only a formality. However, my people do observe formalities." He then forced himself to his feet, still a bit shaky from hunger, and bowed deeply to the group assembled there, thus giving them all a fine view of his weaponry. "My name is Shin no Hochi, and I have no desire or intention to harm any of you."

[Jolta]

The nice waft of food reached into Alhena's nostrils as she mended the broken Sora. That was one thing that could keep her eyes shining like emeralds. There were many others, but that should not be mentioned.
"My name is Alhena Mebsuta. I'm from the faraway Zodiacis."
Alhena clearly remembered the great land of Castor City, the great metropolis which overlooked Pollux Village. That was her hometown.
"I can't deny that you're a nice cook... but... nevermind..." Alhena spoke to Dubhe, blushing and pouting from embarassment due to just now.
She looked at Shin no Hochi next. "Shin no Hochi, notable outlaw. If you truly are sincere that you won't hurt us, it won't hurt to give you a little makeover. I mean, you do need a disguise if you're heading somewhere, don't you?"

[Hydra of Ages]

Dubhe chuckled a little. "So we're hiding a serial killer now? Good to know, Aly."

He stewed the haphazardly ingredients together, checking they were caramelizing properly. So, the famous Shin no Hoshi wasn't trying to hide his identity from them, then- part of that reassured him. If he hid his identity, it was likely he was simply trying to lie low- probably by silencing them in his sleep. Then again, the kid was from Zodiacis and he was dressed as if he were from Nihonshin- it'd almost he weirder if he hadn't assumed they could tell his identity from sight, the cloak was rather distinctive.

As were the weapons of course, but Dubhe didn't really have room to talk. He was a small personal armoury himself, after all.

Part of him was disappointed- a duel with the famous Shin no Hoshi would definitely be a tale to tell, and bringing his head back would be a nice wedding present for the country of Nihonshin. Heck, that alone would probably guaranty excellent relationships with his home's neighbour nation- he'd be a hero for years later.

But, if they guy wasn't up for a fight... well, he guessed it was nothing-doing. Killing a dusty desert travel wasn't heroic. A disappointment, really. Dubhe had to be the only person on the face of the planet who [i]wanted [/i]to be targeted by a famous killer.

He supposed he'd just have to make due with just the Pitch Black Sword.

His mix of rations finally stopped popping, and he recovered the pan from the inferno surrounding it, keeping his off-hand touching Suzaku's hilt. The hot metal of the pan didn't sear his hand, thus proving the usefulness of magical swords even when Dubhe wasn't involved in pitched combat; immunity to heat-related injuries had proven itself intensely useful in a number of occasions, even if it cost its weight in Nether Gems every few months.

He put it on the ground and took a knifefull of the food with his utensil, taking a bite of the mix. Crunchy, yet sweet- maybe a little bitter. Could have been better, he supposed, but he was pretty hot.

"Help yourselves. Don't have any plates or anything," he said to the other two. He flicked an eye towards the killer. "Make sure you leave enough for the kid, Shin," he said before dropping his knife into the plate and turning to retrieve his largest sword; Suzaku's fires died down as soon as he pulled it from the earth, and he quickly busied himself in setting up the small amount of preparations needed for a campsite- a canister of animal deterrent, a small bedroll (more a blanket, really), and a bell to tie to his backback in case something tried to drag it off in the middle of the night. Basic, but it worked.

He didn't go back to the food, even after his preparations were finished- he was pretty hungry, but not quite enough so that he could justify taking food from a small child and a half-starved traveller.