Kwai

[color=silver][size=1]I'm not sure how anime will live on (or die) in American culture, but it sure as hell won't go away in Japanese culture. It's too deeply rooted in the process of 'growing up' if you're a Japanese kid. Aside from simple entertainment, anime is used as a means of education (both academic and moral), and also is a source of many heros and heroines for children. It's here to stay.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy] [b]Name:[/b] Yagajishi (The Night is the Lion) [b]Nickname:[/b] Master of Babel [b]Age:[/b] Estimated age - 1500 [b]Race:[/b] Vampire [b]Clan:[/b] Neutral [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Nationality:[/b] Japan [b]Weapons:[/b] [b]Black Box:[/b] A small, black box encrusted with a magnificent black pearl. The pearl has a vague white haze that makes it resemble an eye. The inside of the box is framed with thin sheets of gold and silver set in diamond patterns. The box is filled with red, green, and blue pills. [b]Red Pill: Chikewai: (Blood Paint):[/b] Consumption of the red pill bloats up the blood vessels in the body until it bursts, saturating the entire body with blood. Obviously, if any human takes this pill, it would mean death. If an ordinary vampire takes it, it would temporarily render them powerless until the lost blood seeps back into them. For Yagajishi, it has an interesting side effect of dramatically increasing the rate at which his heart pumps blood through out his body. This sends him into a state of frenzy, his vision clouded by a veil of blood. In this state, his strength and agility are doubled, fueled by the increase in blood production and circulation. [b]Green Pill: Sabi: (Rust):[/b] A paralytic venom that congeals into a green substance, the green pill simply gives Yagajishi's claw and bite a paralyzing effect. The paralysis is not immediate in nature. Like the formation of a rust, the paralysis comes slowly, hampering the movement and thought process subtly until the body and mind becomes virtually immobilized, leaving the victim helpless to be torn apart by Yagajishi's feral claws. If taken by a human, it would mean slow painful death as the mind and body deteriorates. When taken by any vampire other than Yagajishi, the effect would be the same, granting the vampire a paralyzing bite and claw. However, the venom would slowly work its way around the vampire's system, eventually rendering it paralyzed. [b]Blue Pill: Nen: (Thought):[/b] A pill that grants great mental power and at the same time a great deal of mental duress, the blue pill enhances the mental awareness by threefold. As a result, this increases the amount of information that the brain collects by threefold, which is enough to burn up anyone's brain that is not up to capacity. At the same time, it also increases the power exerted by the brain by threefold, granting powers that are psychic in nature. Use of this pill is very much limited for Yagajishi, partly because he rarely finds the need for it, and partly because the feedback effects that later haunt him are usually too excruciating to bear. [b]Ability:[/b] [b]Kotodama: (Word Spirit, also known as Babel Mastery):[/b] Words are powerful tools to bring about change in this world. The Japanese people knew this and gave the name of "kotodama" to the mystic powers that word possessed. This name, in turn, opened up an entirely new realm of word usage, particularly in forms of cursing and blessing. Where spirits never existed, humankind gave it a name, thus granting the existence of a spirit. Yagajishi was quick to take immediate control of this spirit after its birth into existence, which granted him an arcane power to cause something by simple command of the word. On a side note, this ability is also called Babel Mastery in western vampiric traditions. It is rumored that whoever speaks the original language the world spoke before the incident at the Tower of Babel possess the ability to command the very fabric of this world at will. [b]Appearance:[/b] [img]http://www.absoluteanime.com/cowboy_bebop/_vicious.jpg[/img] [b]Bio:[/b] The precise dates and origins of Yagajishi has never been known. It is rumored that he was the first vampire that crossed the turmoil of the sea to spread the vampiric seed in Japan, but this is highly unlikely when considering the fact that Yagajishi himself is devastatingly weak to large bodies of water. In any case, the earliest records that indicate of his presence in Japan date to roughly 1170. The Genji warlord Minamotono Yoshitsune is said to have been trained by a Tengu, a humanoid demon, during his youth in the Kurama Temple. The Tengu of Kurama Temple, a source of countless fairytales and folklore, was Yagajishi. As centuries passed by, Japan underwent many changes. Yagajishi witnessed first hand the clashes and strife of mankind in the chaotic Sengoku era of Japan. As he watched, sometimes as a mere observer and at other times an all too powerful participant, he began to wonder if the vampiric race were any different from the human race. If the humans were this destructive, then how great and catastrophic would the vampiric wars be? The very thought sent shivers down his spine. By the end of the Sengoku era, Yagajishi's single objective became to participate in the inevitable coming of the vampiric war. As each passing human war increased in its destructive magnitude, the anxious joy in Yagajishi grew, imagining how terrible and at the same time how majestically great the vampiric war would be. He honed his abilities, his combat techniques, his mind, and his body. At long last, after he witnessed and felt the nuclear blast of the Second World War, he began detecting a steady accumulation of others like him, the presence of vampires. With feral, anxious joy he awaits for the war to begin... [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]I know a few people who have gone through with arranged marriage. In fact, I know more than 300 couples who met each other by arranged marriage. I'm Japanese and I suppose that would make people think that it's a traditional thing, but it actually has nothing to do with my culture. In my case, it's a religious issue. Members of my church can only marry through arranged marriage. So, in effect, everyone in my church (father and mother included), had their marriages arranged. Kind of crazy and kind of terrifying, especially since my parents are bringing this whole marriage thing up since I'm "of age"...[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Eh, I'm on volume 8 of Tsubasa atm. Volume 9 comes out sometime in February ^^. As for the anime, I'm a bit skeptical. NHK has not been doing too well recently in terms of company regulation and their line-up of programs (that and they charge $30 per month... rip off), so I can't help but be worried on the quality of the anime they are capable of producing at this point. I'm also turned off by that link you put up Dagger. It says educational TV on the upper-left hand corner. That doesn't bode too well :/[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=royalblue]It's impressive to see how much discussion Evangelion invokes among its fans... I, for one, decided not to probe too deeply into trying to guess at what really is going on in all the little nooks and crannies of the story. Below excerpted from evaotaku. [i] -Finally, do you have some message for the fans? Tsurumaki- Don't drag the past around. Find the next thing that interests you. -Does that mean not becoming fixated on "Evangelion"? Tsurumaki- Yes. It's always better to let something that has finished end. [/i] I cannot help but feel that the same topics and questions are being tossed around whenever Evangelion is discussed in otaku circles.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=royalblue]Stress management... crucial for me at this point in time with all the hectic college application process and such. Anyway, I usually go to the local martial arts school and practice forms. It takes a lot of concentration, so doing it helps me forget about all the stuff I have to do, if only for a short time. Unfortunately, I think this is more of a temporary denial of reality instead of actually relaxing, since I go back into a panicky, stressed out state once I exit the school.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=royalblue]This is a rough draft of a rpg that I might be posting up in the next month or so. Feed back and suggestions will be appreciated, but not taking any sign-ups yet. Have at it.[/size][/color] [size=1][color=navy] After all was said and done, they found themselves in a decidedly unfavorable position. The girl was more dead than alive, a product of needless and clumsy violence. Perhaps they shouldn?t have beaten her too much. Perhaps they should have properly restrained her during the entire process. Or perhaps they shouldn?t have dragged her into the alleyway in the first place. There were so many ?maybe we shouldn?t have??, but it was pointless now. The girl, half-naked and obviously defiled to the extreme, lay on the ground in withering breaths. ?Damn it Ken, you had to be f***ing rough on her didn?t you?!? ?Shut up man. You were the one who wanted to do this?? ?Both of you give it a damn rest. We need to figure out what to do with this whore?? The three teenagers, bestial in their brutal sexuality, argued over their situation. Ironically, the girl they were so drawn to only an hour ago was now an object of despicable repulsion. They all averted their eyes from the figure on the ground. It probably was because of their determination not to look at the girl that made them such an easy prey. None of them realized the sudden spasm that rushed through her frail body. None of them saw the thin figure slowly stand up, more bestial than the teenagers during their moments of carnal pleasure. And when one of them finally noticed, the expression of surprise and horror was fixed onto his face as the girl?s teeth sank into his neck, tearing his life away in a fraction of a second. The girl, human no longer, grabbed the second teenager by the neck. A dull crack followed as blood spurted out from where her nails dug in. The third gave a shrill, horrific scream. The scream was cut off as abruptly as it began. An uneasy silence fell about the twisted alleyway, then a sickening sound of a carnivore feeding on fresh kill ensued. ???Two hours later??? Two figures, one in a dark-trench coat and the other donning a gray, worn out cloak about him, stepped into the alleyway. They looked around briefly, noting the splashes of blood on the walls, on the ground, the bones scattered unceremoniously about the dank alley with three bloodied skulls to match. The figure in the trench coat brought her wrist up to her mouth and spoke tersely. ?Area secured. Three confirmed deaths.? The cloaked figure, meanwhile, was carefully examining the bones that were all cleaned of their meat. With a small sigh of disgust, he stood up and glanced at his partner. ?They?ve been eaten. There are gnaw marks here and there.? The trench coat looked at the deeper end of the alley, then calmly walked towards the dead-end wall. She noted the ripped pieces of dress and female lingerie, then sighed in disgust. ?Looks like they (she glanced at the bones) tried to rape her or did rape her. Either way, they woke something up?? The cloaked figure looked down at the bones, then turned to his partner. ?Gluttony. Cannibalization to this extreme cannot possibly be the result of the other six.? ?Agreed. We?ll have to send an alert through our brethren.? ?I will see to that. You get started on tracking it. Do not, by any means, attempt to confront it alone.? ?I know that?? The trench coat leapt at the wall with super-human agility, then bounded up to the top of the building nimbly. She raised her nose into the air for a moment, then was gone in a whiff of the wind. The cloaked figure looked after her worriedly, then brought his wrist up to his face. ?Gluttony has awakened. N is tracking it. Awaiting further instructions.? A calm, commanding voice replied from the device on his wrist. ?We will be sending a recovery team. Until then, keep the area secured.? The cloaked figure ended the transmission, then muttered to himself softly. ?Wrath has been released, now Gluttony? God help us?? [/size][/color] [size=1][color=royalblue][I] A time set in the distant future. With the rapid infiltration of technology into our daily lives, human kind no longer found need for religion. When everything in nature, when everything about the human body, mind and brain was decoded, religion became a thing of the past, something useless for the educated mind. God, of course, was nonexistent to all. Who needs God when we know everything about this world? But this obsessive dependency on science and technology made the human kind weak. For you see, God did exist. And so did angels and demons and Lucifer and all of the other stuff that comes in package with the existence of God. Human kind couldn?t prove it, so they somehow put two and two together and came to a strange conclusion that since almighty science couldn?t prove God?s existence, God did not exist. How wrong they were. God did exist. And as a package gift, so did Lucifer and his force of demons. The seven deadly sins, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, Envy, Pride, Sloth, and Greed were planted by the demonic forces into the populace. Mislead that science held all answers, the spiritually and morally weakened minds of the populace were an all too fertile ground to plant the seeds of sin to harvest later, at the right time. The time of harvest has come. Once the seven dormant men and women carrying their curse of sin awakens, their kinship will draw them together to one location. Upon this location their true cathartic forms will be revealed, allowing them to wreak havoc upon the rest of the human populace and thus recreate the chaos of Hell upon this Earth. The Heavenly side, of course, had other plans. Touching the minds of those who were the least swayed by the technological world, God chose a number of men and women to form a coalition to hunt down the sins should they awaken upon this earth. The coalition, named ?Chapel?, has been operating underground in patience during the last century, keeping a tight, careful network of spiritual surveillance on the populace, always ready to take action should they detect a fluctuation of one of the sins. Two months ago, the Chapel detected a disturbance in the mind of a man. While the Chapel was debating over the need for action, the man awoke to Wrath. His wife and three children were brutally butchered by a meat cleaver. The man fled, a living incarnation of the sin ?Wrath?. And now, Gluttony has appeared. With the two sins freed upon this earth and the five still to come, the world lies poised upon the edge of the cliff of destruction, with the yawning maw of Hell below. [/size][/color][/i] [size=2][color=indigo] [b]Sign-up[/b][/size] [size=1] [b]Name:[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Gender:[/b] [b]Nationality:[/b] [b]Weapon:[/b] Two weapons permitted only for Chapel Members [b]Ability:[/b] Two abilities permitted only for the sins [b]Affiliation:[/b] Chapel or Sin. [b]Description:[/b] Picture preferred [b]Bio:[/b] [/color][/size]

[size=1][color=darkred]Been a while. I've been following Bleach through the manga for the past two months and have become quite attached to it. However, whenever a manga becomes an anime or vice versa, there is always the apprehensive part inside you that debates whether the anime will be as good as the manga or not. Bleach, so far, has been so so. Of course, this might be because I've read too much and the repetition of the storyline is boring me. I don't think I can make up my decision until the main enemy shifts from [spoiler]the hollows over to the shinigamis over in soul society. That's where the real action and fun starts in my opinion.[/spoiler] The manga is currently up to book 14 and looking good. I'd love to see all of those cool shinigami leaders put to animation... At the moment, my favorite character is probably [spoiler]Kuchiki Byakuya, followed by Urahara Kisuke. Byakuya's almost cruel indifference combined with his incredible power is very attractive, but Kisuke's happy-go-lucky, yet merciless personality is cool too. I also like most of the shinigami leaders, especially Zaraki Kenbachi.[/spoiler] Big spoiler. Watch it. [spoiler]The thing I love about Bleach is how the swords the Shinigamis wield have a name/spirit and a different form when they are unsealed. It spices things up in an otherwise common sword fight animation. Plus, it's fun speculating what the swords look like/their special effects when they are unsealed.[/spoiler][/size][/color]

[size=1][color=darkred] Brendan eyed the fleeing figure with calculating eyes, and readied his right arm to throw the cross. He was just about to launch it at the vampire when Warrington?s hand descended upon his arm, staying him. Though he was sure he would have hit the vampire right on its spinal cord, a staying hand from Warrington simply meant ?No?. Brendan looked up at his mentor with a slight disappointment, and lowered his arm. ?Oh come on Glaydn? I?m sure I would have killed her?? Warrington chuckled softly as the figure melted away into the snowy cityscape, then draped his cloak around Brendan. ?Yes yes? you would have?? Brendan smiled at getting the confirmation from Warrington, wrapped the excess chain around his left arm, then secured the cross on a small holder located on his waist. Warrington smiled down at the boy, then turned around and left for the darkening alleyway. Brendan looked once more at the direction to which Reaper fled with a tinge of disappointment, then quickly followed Warrington, his cloak swishing against the newly fallen snow.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=darkred]Warrington stepped forth from the shades of the building, his hands still stuck deep within his pocket. As his face came under the light, his expression changed to that of a slight smirk, with obvious contempt etched into every portion of his face. His eyes, though hidden by the dark glasses, glistened slightly, indicating a slight rush of adrenaline within him. "Didn't I mention... that I despise being called 'my da'ling', or whatever way you pronounce it in that infernal accent of yours?" Reaper purred in response, her hands softly stroking the end of her hilt. Warrington slowly moved his right hand from his pocket to his face, and took off his glasses. He folded the glasses neatly, then let them fall into his pockets as he lifted his eyes at Reaper. She purred again, though there seemed to be something more subtle in her purr this time. "It's nice seeing your face... da'ling" Warrington snickered indifferently, then drew his hand out before him, his fingers spread wide open. He flicked his fingers lightly, and a thin strand of wire, nearly impossible to see, flickered into a dim silver color for a moment, then returned to the colorless realm. Reaper's smile tensed, her grip tightened a tad on her blade. "Found new toys I see... what happened to that venom of yours?" Warrington lightly closed his hand into a fist, then put it back into his pockets carefully. "I still retain my venoms for more... worthy opponents..." Reaper drew her blade, then readied herself. "I'm sure I'm worthy Warrington darling..." Warrington chuckled in response, then shivered slightly. His cloak suddenly seemed to erupt, then a brown object shot out from under it, missing Reaper's blade by a mere fraction of an inch. As Reaper looked back at Warrington, her eyes flaming, she noticed a smaller figure standing in front of Warrington, holding the chain that was connected to the cross that just barely missed her. "Aw... it's hard to aim from under the cloak..." A small boy, with a childish expression of disappointment, stood before Warrington. He shrugged, then pulled the chain back, deftly catching the cross with his right hand. Warrington chuckled amusedly at Reaper's expression of surprise, then crouched down, hoisting the child onto his left shoulder. "Let me introduce you to... Brendan... my partner..."[/size][/color]

[color=darkred][size=1] [b]Name:[/b] Enrique Glaydn Warrington [b]Age:[/b] 63 (Looks to be in his mid 20?s) [b]Nationality:[/b] German [b]Affiliation:[/b] Lowendove Brotherhood [b]Weapons:[/b] [b]Trip Wire:[/b] Warrington?s primary assignment during his years of service to the military dealt mainly in the arts of tactical bombing. His skills and precision in conducting a trap that lulled many unfortunate battalions to their death have created a legend of their own. The legend of the ?Trip Wire?, as he was called, still lives on in the military, as the calm, quiet man who, with a completely guiltless air, sent over three-hundred men to their deaths amidst the exploding shells and inferno. Though much a time passed since the emergence of the legend, Warrington has not lost touch of his explosive trapping skills. He is capable of turning any location into a minefield, with each little explosive?s detonation under his control through a complex network of trip wiring. The wires are almost completely invisible to the naked eye, and when the air suddenly seems to glisten in an unnatural ripple, a tide of scorching flame engulfs the poor victim. [b]Runic Talon:[/b] A set of ancient claws that sharply contrasts with Warrington?s main arsenal of modern day explosives, the claws look like nothing more than a dilapidated piece of work, dull and blunt after centuries of wear and tear. The claw itself is said to be the weapon that was used by a serial killer somewhere down in India, and after his execution, went through the hands of various collectors, eventually coming into the possession of Warrington. What is little known about the serial killer is that he actually was a rogue vampire hunter who met an ironic end through the laws of the very race he was trying to protect. Perhaps Warrington felt some strange aura that drew him to the claw. Or it may have been a whim. In any case, he has never been pushed to a situation to use this claw, for his main acts of killing are done from a distance. [b]Ability:[/b] [b]Implant:[/b] One of the reasons Warrington retired from the military was due to the deterioration of his physical and mental health after the many sleepless hours spent out in the field, setting up the trap to the last minute detail. Such a job undoubtedly cuts deeply into the physical and mental health of a human being, and Warrington was no exception. After twelve years of front line service, Warrington?s nerves began to break down slowly, leaving his body in a wrecked state. After three years of being in a half-living, half-dead state, his former associate who worked for the medical division of the military secured him a position in a series of experimental implants that was supposed to enhance the physical boundaries of an ordinary man. There were four others who received these implants, and out of all five, only Warrington lived. The bodies of the other four rejected the foreign mechanical implants, and it only hastened their death. Warrington?s nearly wrecked body, on the other hand, worked to be an advantage. His body had little strength to amass enough power to reject the implants, and in time, simply accepted the implants as normal body parts. With the implants, Warrington?s muscle strength, agility, sensitivity, regeneration, and many other human abilities have been considerably boosted. [b]Personality:[/b] Cold and impartial, Warrington has a clear-cut vision that divides the world into either white or black. There is no dull, gray line floating in between the two, only the right and wrong. Should Warrington?s quest to kill a vampire be impeded by the presence of a hostage, Warrington will kill the hostage without any hesitation. With a simple ?Amen?, he would blast both the hostage and the vampire to pieces. Though this seemingly cruel personality has been sharply criticized in the past, many in the Brotherhood do not bother putting up complaints about this in recent days. After all, he kills vampires like no other member of the Brotherhood, and as long as he?s the one leading the kill count, there is no strong case against him. [b]Appearance:[/b] The implants in Warrington have had a positive effect on his physical appearance, giving his body a more muscular frame that would be incompatible with a 63 year old body. His body is a bit on the thin side, and his hair is coarse and disheveled. He usually wears a pair of black glasses that completely hide his eye. His entire body is covered by a black-cloak that is ripped and torn along the edges. Under the cloak, he wears a dull-gray uniform that has been obviously worn for some time, with a pair of pants lined with pockets, each holding some unique explosive weaponry. A small pouch is strapped to his left shoulder that contains his set of claws. [b]Bio:[/b] The biography of Warrington is that of an honorable soldier who served the military, then was honorably discharged. That?s the public story. The private, of course, is a tad more twisted, complicated, and full of odd tangents of events connected together. Warrington was, as stated, one of the tactical bombers that went out into the field to lay mines, set up traps, and complete other less-than-honorable missions. Of course, many of these soldiers never live long enough to step up to fame. They all die at some point, one dying after two years, another after a month, and maybe yet another on the first day. Warrington, however, was one of those geniuses, the kind that is so incredibly good but so incredibly horrifying because he is so incredibly good at what he does. In Warrington?s case, sending dozen or so men to their grave in one flick of a switch, a trip of a wire, or a click of a button. He never failed, he always survived, and his mission always a success. But unfortunately, he had his limitations as a human being. One particular day, for no reason at all, he just dropped. He was put into a military hospital, and stayed there for three years in a subconscious state of mind, his body just barely hanging onto the cliff of life, with the valley of death yawning below. He got lucky (actually, it was his friend), and was picked as one of the five samples to be tested for the use of implants. Long story short, the other four died, he lived. He was, again, the successful survivor where many others failed. The project, for which Warrington was used as a guinea pig, never actually took flight. The incompatibility of the implants with the human body was an obvious conclusion and only the extreme fatigue and exhaustion of Warrington?s body seemed to have been the successful component. Though Warrington was fully rejuvenated, more so than his years of service, he began to doubt the military?s general sanity when he learned more about the project into which he was forcefully cast. Slipping through the eyes of the numerous watchers set on him, Warrington disappeared. Fearing the possible repercussions of conducting a military hunt after an individual so skilled and wily, and also due to the probable criticisms of the public should the details of the project ever get out, the military never set up an organized pursuit to hunt Warrington. He was free. Now, Warrington is one of the main field operatives of the Lowendove Brotherhood. He apparently has no powerful sentiments of hate or rage against the vampires, but there is a chilling coldness of impartial fury in him when he is pitted against the vampires. Rumors in the Brotherhood of his recruitment ranges from him being blackmailed by the Brotherhood to join, while others believe Warrington killed off a good number of Brotherhood members in their first confrontation, thus garnering favor in the eyes of the recruiters. In any event, Warrington has been around for a while, and has cast his fearful name again, not in the underworld of the military, but instead in the underworld of vampire politics. [b]Name:[/b] Brendan Setton [b]Age:[/b] 12 [b]Nationality:[/b] English [b]Affiliation:[/b] Lowendove Brotherhood [b]Weapons:[/b] [b]Blood Harvester:[/b] A medium sized wooden cross that is connected to Brendan?s left wrist by a long chain. To humans it is utterly harmless, yet it is as sharp as an expert forged sword against any night-walking vampire. The core of this weapon is a small cross necklace that Brendan?s mother was wearing when she was killed by a jealous vampire. A faint aura of motherly protection, combined with the vengeful reminder of a painful death gives this blade a harsh, merciless edge against any vampiric creature, tearing through undead flesh effortlessly. [b]Ability:[/b] [b]Duality:[/b] It would be much simpler to call this ability a split personality. But with the two sides so sharply contrasting with each other, it is probably more accurate to refer to this as duality, with the yin and yang, with the angel and demon residing within one body. When he is called ?Brendan?, he is a bubbly, cheerful boy that loves to annoy his guardian figure, Warrington. He is even cheerful and happy-go-lucky in battle, even talking affably to the vampires that he is hunting. When he is called ?Setton?, he is cold, silent, and merciless. The general aura exuding from him suddenly turns homicidal and menacing, with the desire to kill bursting from every portion of his being. [b]Personality:[/b] Brendan is the type of kid that is annoying, but a bit too cute to really get mad at. He loves using his young age and general cuteness to get what he wants, and is especially fond of troubling the higher-ranking members of the Brotherhood with his little tantrums. Unfortunately for Warrington, Brendan follows him incessantly, and due to this, landed a position as his partner. Now Setton, on the other hand, is probably the reason he is in the Brotherhood at such a young age. Absolutely merciless to anything vampiric, he would rather rid the world of himself than being forced to make peace with a vampire. [b]Appearance:[/b] Brendan insists on wearing something very similar to what Warrington wears. Even though he can?t mimic the obvious age on Warrington?s attire, he strives very hard to bring his general fashion up to par with Warrington?s. On his general appearance, he appears a bit ridiculous, as if something out of Harry Potter with the big cloak and all. His round face is absolutely cute and charming, especially when he breaks into one of his smiles. [b]Bio:[/b] Brendan was born into one of the better areas of London, with a loving father and mother, the very model of an ideal family. His early life was very happy and cheerful, with his parents adoring over him, his father bringing him small sweets daily, and his mother enveloping him with love in every little way. It didn?t last. The father found another woman who apparently pleased him better during the night than his mother, and the family broke up. His mother worked hard to keep the sinking vessel of family afloat, while his father went off with his lover almost every night. His mother told him that his father was a very busy man and had to get his work done. But even then, Brendan was able to see exhaustion in his mother?s cheerful, happy face, and he was slowly beginning to sense that it wouldn?t last. And one day, it finally fell apart. It turned out, strangely enough, that his father had fallen under the charm of a whore. The whore turned out to be a lustful vampire, who was more interested in bodily pleasure than her hunger for blood. The vampiric lover paid a visit to Brendan?s house one day when his father was actually out working for the night, and decided to get rid of the wife and son that was holding her and her lover apart. The confrontation left a permanent scar in Brendan as he watched in horror while a stranger bit down on her mother?s neck, and his mother?s flailing movements slowly came to a stop as she gradually turned deathly pale. Brendan?s line of sanity and insanity snapped there. He crumbled down helplessly onto the floor as the strange woman came over to him, licking her lips maliciously. His vision was suddenly switched from the demonic woman to that of a sudden flame of inferno erupting from under the woman?s feet, incinerating her instantly. He heard a soft whisper of ?Amen?, and a great black shadowy man appeared from the flames. This image was eternally branded into his image, of his rescuer and at the same time his avenger stepping forth from the ashes of the murderer. The man took Brendan under his cloak, and Brendan lost his consciousness there. Brendan found himself in the hospital wing of the Brotherhood, and the first thing he saw again in his hour of safety was the looming man over him. As he stared up blankly, smiling involuntarily with the sense that he was looking up at his father, the man nodded slightly then left the hospital wing. Brendan recovered, but the mental damage inflicted on him was impossible to calculate. Not wanting to let the boy go without being sure that the boy wouldn?t talk about the incident, the Brotherhood assigned Warrington to be a guardian of Brendan until it was deemed safe to release him. Brendan was a cheerful, bubbly kid that just seemed to love getting attention, especially that of Warrington that he looked up to after the rescue. Warrington was obviously fond of this small child, and after a few weeks, Brendan found himself free to maneuver his way throughout the stronghold of the Brotherhood. He, of course, heard many things in there, of vampires and their characteristics, of ways to slay them. After half a year, Brendan put two and two together and concluded that it was a vampire that killed his mother. He begged/wheedled Warrington to let him be a hunter, to which Warrington reluctantly, and at the same time, delightedly permitted. Two years have passed since Brendan first came to the Lowendove Brotherhood as a mentally scarred boy. He is now Warrington?s partner, always hanging onto Warrington like a small mascot. Wherever Warrington goes, he goes, and whatever Warrington condemns, he condemns. What Warrington kills, he kills. He is a child at heart, but his skills in killing a vampire easily match that of a fully-grown adult slayer. [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Man... I remember reading Detective Conan years ago with my friends when we were in elementary school. Good times, trying to figure out who the murderer was. Problem is, they were all a bit too hard for us to solve so it turned into a guessing game towards the end. But still, good times. I'm frankly quite amazed the show is still going on in Japan. Whoever is writing it (forgot the name) must have one heck of a brain, thinking up of all the different possible ways to kill someone. Oh yes, about the name Conan. I think the name came from him [spoiler]stuttering about his name when he turned into a kid, looked around the entire collection of mystery novels, and picked it out from the Sherlock Holmes series. Edogawa, his last name, is from a well known Japanese Mystery novel as well.[/spoiler][/color][/size]

[size=1][color=navy]A figure, which he assumed to be Azrael, flew towards him through the night sky, bringing with it a lingering trace of angelic stench that grew by the second, giving him a disgusted feeling. At the same time, however, there was another stench, or rather a scent... the scent that he carried with himself, the scent of his own blood. Mordecry took a slow rattling breath, taking in the smell of the corrupt blood. "Mordecry." The figure addressed him with a hint of desperation in his voice. It was a voice he remembered, a voice he despised. But as customary, Mordecry kept silent for a good few moments. He was enjoying the slow leeching of blood the seven hundred corpses below was providing him, and he was in no hurry at all to begin a battle. He let his eyes graze over the dark skies lazily, then slowly fixed his eyes on Azrael. He gazed upon the once mighty angel for a brief moment, then laughed mockingly. "How now... the once great Azrael... fallen so low and corrupted by the hands of mankind..." Mordecry took another rattling breath of air to take in the stench. "You have my blood now as well... I cannot have my blood lingering about some pathetic creature as you..." Mordecry laughed lightly again, then outstretched his hands. His human nails suddenly grew sharp and demonic, menacing in every aspect. "I will take back what's mine. Prepare yourself."[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]The night sky was dark blue, as it always was, with the stars glittering high above in the heavens. The scene was perfectly normal for a brief moment. Then, an unearthly change took place. A sudden vertical line, crimson and bloody, formed in the middle of the sky then slowly tore open to the side, like an eye of a reptilian creature. The rift opened in full, and a chaotic swirl of red and black flared up, spewing out one human figure, then immediately darted back into the rift. The red eye closed, sealing the human world from Hell. Mordecry glanced around boredly, then his eyes slowly adjusted. "Mm... too little red... enough black but too little red... we'll fix that..." He focused his eyes on a small village, all of its residents probably slumbering, especially considering the hour. He looked down with a penetrating gaze, then slowly counted what he saw. "Six hundred, six seventy... seven hundred or so mortals... that will do..." He opened his mouth, then with a deep, thunderous rumble, breathed in a huge amount of air. His small body seized up for a moment, then released a high pitched shriek that ripped through the village streets below. The window panes were shattered into thousands of pieces, and all that was alive died almost instantly, their entire body racked by the ultra vibration that blitzed through the air. In a moment, the peaceful slumbering town was no longer, and was instead a mass grave, with each corpse lying peacefully on their beds, bleeding profusely from their mouths, ears, nostrils, and eyes. Mordecry sighed in content, and let his aura slowly take in the familiar feeling of blood. His eyes blazed for a moment, then slowly fixed on three lone figures far off in the horizon, too small for a naked human eye to see but visible to him clearly. A low growl erupted from his throat...[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]The Gates of Hell stood dark and chaotic. It was the Gate that stood on the rifts of Heaven, Hell, and the human world. The portal on the side of Hell was always in the same location, by the infernal river of souls, but the portal on the mortal world's side was ever-changing, never rooted in one specific location. Demonic Warlocks and Witches were able to pass through the rifts quite easily without going through the portal, but the matter was different for Mordecry. He never liked magic, and thus had no means to cross over to the mortal world without going through the Gate. He arrived at the Gate boredly, his human form contrasting horribly with the entire scenary. "Identify yourself..." A low, hoarse voice came from the dancing shadows the portal created. Mordecry ignored the voice and continued walking towards the Gate acting as if he heard absolutely nothing. "You were warned..." The shadow under Mordecry suddenly twisted into a tight vortex, then lashed out as an abyssal lance, impaling Mordecry's left arm. A dark figure slowly emerged a few steps away from Mordecry, a shadow of a thin demonic figure, almost skeletal in its image. The shadow cackled softly. "My orders are to eliminate anyone that passes by without identifying themselves... and you are one..." Mordecry's eyes adjusted slowly on the demon, and a small smile formed on his face. "A nefarim demon... the shadow tribe eh?" The shadow cackled again, then stretched his arms out towards Mordecry. "I am the champion of the nefarim tribe... and by orders from Lucifer, the Grand Duke of Hell, I shall take your life..." The shadow around Mordecry suddenly erupted, forming a cage around Mordecry. The shadow cackled madly in triumph, then melted into the black ground and reappeared before Mordecry. "Your carcass shall be cast down into the shadows... where I shall enjoy devouring you..." Mordecry laughed mockingly without any panic or fear. "Know your place nefarim." Mordecry closed his eyes softly, then reopened them. The red in his eyes were now positively burning, his entire pupil seemed to sway with flames. The shadow recoiled slightly and took a step back. "What... what are..." It never finished. Mordecry's impaled arm suddenly turned into a demonic one with vicious claws, then tore off the upper portion of the shadow in a flash. The shadow made a hoarse, gurgling sound, then the cage and the creature evaporated into thin air. The shadow of the portal dimmed slightly and a skeleton of a demon surfaced from the shadows. Mordecry looked down upon it with contempt, then stepped on the face of the corpse, being careful to grind his heels into it. "We consumed the Nefarim tribe four centuries ago vermin..." Mordecry spat spitefully on the ground, then walked into the portal without turning back.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy][i]Hell... the Oblivion, the Abyss, the Pit, the Inferno. Many ways to address the red, black chasm of despair, from which redemption seems to be nothing more than a wistful thought soon to pass away under the cruel atmosphere of sin. There are, of course, plenty of unearthly creatures that inhabit the place. Some were formerly human, others were formerly from the High Heavens. They both fell, or they would not have found their ways down. But those that fell are not the true horrors that lurk within the flames and shadows. For those that fell were once right, were once holy, were once with conscience. That makes them weak. Instead, what the true cause of fear in Hell are the demons born within Hell and raised in Hell. These creatures know nothing of love, of conscience, of holyness. All they know is the chaotic oblivion they reside in, and they become accustomed to it. Overtime, their powers are nurtured by the anguish and hate of Hell, and they slowly evolve to a stronger form. Such is the way some of the Greater Demons are formed. The strongest in Hell, as it turns out, never were the Fallen, but those that were born in Hell, those that tasted the licking flames and surrounding shadows from birth. And, naturally, there are conflicts amongst the Hell-born Demons as well. The weak die out, the strong live on. The process of 'Survival of the Fittest' is repeated over and over until there is a sort of an equilibrium achieved in the powers. The survivors and thus the retainers of the powers are called the Grim Demons.[/i] A small, gnashing sound erupted from within the architecture of bones, the abode of Mordecry. A few moments later, the sound escalated into a piercring roar that is almost impossible to mimic or yet to describe - the closest sound there is would be an amplified version of nails running against the chalk board. The shrill cry subsided, sending an echo far off towards the distance. A lumbering sound was heard as the ground shook, announcing the presence of Mordecry. The shadow of an enormous figure took shape under the cover of the bones, then stopped. "...A familiar scent..." The shadow snorted, then took in a deep breath of air. For a moment it was motionless, then it slowly relaxed its tensed body, sending a shot of inflamed air out of its nostrils. A flaming red set of eyes suddenly appeared in the dark, burning with the rage of memories past. "...Azrael..." A whooshing sound, as if of a gigantic pair of wings folding was heard, and the shadow suddenly lost most of its size. It was now nothing more than a human shaped mass of dark cloaked in the shadow. It chuckled in good humor, then spoke quietly, addressing no one in particular. "...the scent of Blood cannot be erased Azrael..." Mordecry stepped out of the shadow at last, taking on the form of a young boy, roughly thirteen to fifteen in age. Though much of his intimidating size and complexion was lost, his eyes were still blood red. He smiled softly, then with a sudden scorching gust of hot air, was lost in the licking flames of the pits located here and there. A small laughter was heard, then Mordecry's presence disappeared altogether from Hell. [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy] [b]Name:[/b] Mordecry the Blood [b]Age:[/b] 5491 [b]Race: Grim Demon:[/b] There are billions of demons that inhabit the inferno named Hell. The thought that first occurred to Darwin, the idea of ?survival of the fittest? applies itself most in Hell and none other. The lesser demons perish under the might of the stronger or they are cast down as slaves to a lowly position. Then, of course, exist the stronger demons. A Grim Demon is an offspring of such powerful demons, and is nourished with the flesh and blood of their lesser kin from birth. After two millennia passes, the Grim Demon is pitted against its predecessor in a duel to the death. Whichever survives consumes the carcass of its parent or child, and continues the lineage. Such is the life of a Grim Demon, and due to the ritualistic battle for survival for each Grim Demon, they are restricted to only one per lineage. This maintains the pure demonic power that each Grim Demon possesses, thus keeping their infernal strengths pure throughout the ages. [b]Weapon:[/b] [b]Steel Fang:[/b] A gigantic blade hammered out from a huge solid block of steel that was dug up from deep within the ground in Hell. It took a total of thirteen centuries for the completion of this blade, and many an incompetent smiths that failed to meet the deadline were killed during the process of its creation. The steel that eventually came to form the blade was soaked in the blood of its former smith after each execution, slowly nurturing a passive blood lust that made the blade hunger for more blood. Because of this, anyone wielding this blade is consumed by an unholy desire for blood and gore, the seething blood lust eventually working up into a diabolic frenzy with each enemy slain. [b]Abilities:[/b] [b]Howl:[/b] With a piercing shriek that penetrates the deafest of all ears, Mordecry is able to force the opposing forces into a terrified state of frenzied panic, drastically decreasing the order and unity among enemy armies. His shriek also launches a high frequency of waves that sends an intense vibration through out the entire body, destroying weakened parts and sending the creature into a paralyzed state. [b]Blood Aura:[/b] Mordecry?s particular ancestry of Grim Demons was originally a vampiric sort. They were especially persistent in battle due to their ability to rapidly heal their wounds when injured through the act of drinking blood. Through the lineage, Mordecry?s blood line of Grim Demons developed a leeching aura that induced all injured opponents within a set proximity to bleed profusely while replenishing the life of the Demon. This ability has been the bane of many armies, both heavenly and hellish, for any small injury could turn into a gushing fountain of blood, killing the injured from blood loss. [b]Blood Lust:[/b] A supportive spell that has been honed and passed down through Mordecry?s lineage, Blood Lust, as it is written, evokes the deepest genocidal lust for blood present within all creation brought forth in this world, both heavenly or hellish. Under the spell of this demonic enchantment, the enchanted creature?s adrenaline and muscle strength is greatly enhanced, giving roughly three times the speed and power of the normal state. The only set back is that an unnatural desire to shed blood rises under the spell, sending the enchanted into a frenzied rage to hack and hew through the flesh of everything around it, regardless of friend or foe. What is interesting is, Blood Lust has not been used as often on Mordecry himself or his allies as on enemy angels. The angel under the infernal spell slaughtered everything around him, and by such an act, damned himself. In effect, this spell has been effective in recruiting angels and humans alike to the allegiance of Hell. [b]Personality:[/b] Due to his lineage and also due to his upbringing, he seems to possess a somewhat elitist view of how the world is run. In his eyes, those that cannot ensure their own survival have no place in this world, and thus it is the duty of those that hold power to exterminate the weak. Consequently, his vision of Utopia is none other than Hell where only the strong survive. As for himself, he views himself as one of the powerful, and he enjoys exercising his power to the fullest. He bows down before no one, and will not hesitate to trample the weak under his heels. [b]Apperance:[/b] Once I find a good pic... [b]Bio:[/b] Mordecry?s name comes from the way he was brought into this world. When he was born, his shrill, piercing cry echoed through out Hell, driving the hordes of demons restless. His first act was biting off the head of a lesser demon that, unfortunately, strayed too close to the newborn. Thus, his name turned out to be Mordecry (Morder ? Bite in Spanish). Mordecry was born to the lineage of the Vampiric Grim Demons, and as such, possessed an insatiable appetite for blood, especially from the freshly slain. Countless lesser demons he slaughtered and cannibalized, countless human carcasses he consumed, immeasurable amounts of blood soaked into his very being. After the set time of two millennia, he was cast into an enormous pit without warning, and was forced to face off against his predecessor, his Father who carried the name of ?Koróshya the Genocide?. In an epic battle that followed, Mordecry succeeded in tearing Koróshya?s body to shreds after a battle that lasted for two centuries. Following the ritual of the Grim Demons, he consumed his father?s corpse, and through the cannibalization, gained the two skills of Blood passed down through his lineage. Since his ascension as the Grim Demon, Mordecry has been the participant of many wars against Heaven, and a fair bit amongst the denizens of Hell. He survived each with triumph, his strength increasing gradually with each drop of blood shed by friends and foe alike. He also has, though this knowledge is known only to a few, been the main cause behind many of the angels that fell to the pits of Hell after succumbing to the temptation of ?wrath?. Currently, Mordecry resides deep within the abyssal pits of Hell, his lair carved out from the bones of a gigantic demon dragon that he slew shortly after consuming his predecessor. None dare stray close to his lair without his permission, and many do not even with permission. He has been known to tear off the head of a fellow demon for no apparent reason after all. [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Currently reading multiple mangas... it takes time for the new mangas from Japan to be shipped to the U.S., and I tend to be rather impatient. I started with reading just two, then three, then four... I've accumulated quite a large collection. Anyway, list below. Trigun Maximum - Can't wait for 10 to come out. Great battle scenes, though blood and gore and mutilated body parts inevitably follow each of them. Evangelion - Rumor is 9 came out in Japan. But the closest Japanese bookstore stocks too slow... Rurouni Kenshin - Completed all 28 books, rereading them now and again, slowly growing less and less fond of it. Peace Maker Kurogane - Currently up to 4, with the plot getting darker and darker... I personally enjoy it. Big O - Completed all 6 books, it should never be touched by any anime fan since it plain out sucks. Hell Sing - Currently up to 6, with the plot being repetitive... the main character is invincible so why bother? Reservoir Chronicle Tsubasa - Newest one in my collection, thoroughly enjoying the characters and the parallel universes they travel. Kurogane + Fai combo is great. xXxHolic - Also loving this due to the gothic artwork and it's collaboration with the story of Resevoir Chronicle Tsubasa. [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Funny how that picture is the one I showed you a while back Domon... also funny how it's the exact same manga that I so raved of before you. I guess I had a positive influence on you then. xXxHolic is, thus far, one of my favorite manga out there. It's not that the story is so intriguing that it dwarfs the other comics, nor is it that the artwork is so incredible that the other mangas look like child's scribble. It's the fact that xXxHolic is being published in coordination with another comic, Reservoir Chronicle Tsubasa, that makes it interesting. I own xXxHolic 1 ~3, and RCT 1 ~ 4. The idea of running two different storylines based on the fact that they are in different intertwined universes is an interesting idea. Reading the story from the view of one comic, then from the other is also very entertaining. Definiately give this a read.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Kenjutsu and Kendo aren't all to different, despite the fact that one's for sports and the other's for killing. I might even venture to say that they are equal in terms of real combat. Kenjutsu's focus is more on killing the opponent in one quick blow, hence their attack always results from a huge swing. Kendo is more for faster and accurate hitting, so the blows are made from small swings, probably incapable of slicing through anyone or anything in real combat. But. Kenjutsu's attacks, though powerful, always have a big opening before and after each blow. Kendo's attacks, though probably impossible in scoring a quick kill, is very good for wittling down the opponent through quick hit-and-run blows. So in the long run, I think they are both very capable in combat. [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]I've been doing Kenjutsu/Kendo for the past 9 years or so. I took Yagyu Shinkageryu style for the first four or so years, and switched to the Hong Moo Kwan style for the other nine years since my original master had to go back to Japan to take over the family business or something. I've also dabbled in Nitoryu Kenjutsu on and off for the past three to five years, so I'm quite familiar with that as well. An interesting aspect to consider is that the Yagyu Shinkageryu style and the Nitoryu style are both styles that evolved in, and for combat, so most of their sweeps, strokes, stabs and what not are all made in full swing, with more emphasis on power. On the contrary, the Hong Moo Kwan style, which is more for sports, concentrates more on the speed and accuracy of each blow, so we're not encouraged to make wide swings and such. Oh yeah, and if you happen to want to take Martial Arts for the fantasy of saving a damsel in distress and being rewarded with a kiss or affection, then don't. I find it highly annoying when someone wants to play hero because they know 'martial arts'. The days in which martial arts was used for fighting is over. Martial arts are for finding your own path, for your own discipline, and in the end, for finding the path of your life. On a side note (well... more for bragging purposes), I placed second place in an all national tournament for junior youth individual division in 2002. But then, I haven't been entering too many tournaments since then so I might have gotten a bit shabby.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]I think I posted the reasons behind my username on a similar thread waaay back in v6... anyway, my original name was Oradriel. It was just another random angel name I made up, since I've had some sort of angel obsession after watching Evangelion. After a while, I got rather bored with my name, so I went online, looked around for a site that has a list of all the angels, and looked for an angel that had some connection to evangelion, but preferably in a subtle way. I eventually found the name Metatron, which was the twin brother of Sandalphon, an angel that appears in Evangelion. So I just decided to use that name. Recently, I've been browsing those angelic dictionary sites again and some more research into the name tells me that Metatron is one of the higher ranking angels, so I'm quite happy with that. [/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Maboroshi stood at the entrance of the shrine, peering in quietly. As luck would have it, it seemed as if most of the elite guards of Ino were more of less occupied, probably by the other assassins hired by Oda. He took little heed of the question presented to him by the female figure inside. He just wanted to get the job done over with, so if Ino was not in the shrine, he had no business there. He sighed slightly, then out of boredom, looked over at the female. She was, to be put simply, a mess. Aside from the fact that her entire clothing was soaked by mud, blood, and other undesirable substances, she also seemed to be rather unstable in terms of emotion. Maboroshi smiled softly, watching her unsteady hands point the wakizashi towards him. What was it that she asked him? "...who are you?" A fairly ordinary question, something that one hears quite often in the job of assassination. Maboroshi's smile stayed, not in a mocking way but in an earnest way to show some degree of respect, and bowed softly. "My name matters not. I seek Ino. My gratitude goes to you if you would only tell me where he is." Her eyes widened for a moment. Apparently, she came to the realization that he was the same as the others that came before him. An assassin out to hunt down Ino's head. Her grip tightened on the wakizashi, and her eyes slowly returned from that of frenzied sorrow to the calm combatant. "Leave now. I am in no mood to be trifled with by another of you lowly dogs sent to kill Master Ino." Her voice was calm again, the heavy heaving of sobs he witnessed just moments before had completely disappeared. Maboroshi scratched his head, still retaining the smile, and laughed softly. "Sorry, but I really can't leave without killing Ino. I was payed a rather hefty sum to put my skills to use, and I never go against my word." Her eyes blazed slightly. No doubt, his comment about how he was payed to kill seemed to have aggravated her. "You are indeed a lowly dog then. Revenge I may be able to understand, but killing for money ... is the same as a dog." Maboroshi smiled softly, amused at what he saw as naive ignorance. "Whatever suits you. But I really must get going." He turned around to leave, when a whistling sound from behind was heard for a moment, followed by a portion of his cloth being torn off as a few shurikens grazed his clothing. He stopped for a moment, then turned around again, this time his hand resting lightly upon his kotou. "Fine fine..."[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]Maboroshi watched the fleeing figure with slight annoyance, yet with slight amusement at the same time. He did not, in truth, really care too much about Oda's life. It was the money he cared about, and since money could be obtained by other means, Oda's safety was nowhere near his concerns. He smirked softly, then looked at what Anzu supposedly thought was his blade. It was, to be honest, nothing more than one of the bamboo spears that rained down upon Anzu just moments before. Genjutsu was truly a useful art. "Tsugi ni autoki... kana... (The next time we meet...)" Again, Maboroshi stared off in the direction to which Anzu ran off, and briefly considered blasting his way through with Kijutsu. He thought better of it, especially since he drained a fair amount from his stored Ki during his training. Any more, and it could make it harder for him in the process of killing Ino. Speaking of which... "Soro soro ikuka... (Better get going...)" He did promise Oda, for a fair amount of money of course, to bring Ino's head back, or at the very least, mince Ino into itty bitty pieces. Best to be off. Maboroshi sheathed his blade carefully, then with another amused look at the bamboo impaled on the ground, walked off calmly towards Ino's castle. OOC: Don't pull my character into combat just yet please. PM me if you want to, but not without my permission.[/size][/color]

[size=1][color=navy]OOC: I did mention that Maboroshi used Seijutsu, where he suppresses his Ki right? The Ura Style (the Underground style) is where he releases all the stored Ki in one burst, giving him sort of a ranged shockwave. That will be Kijutsu, which you referred to as magic, Undefeated. And if you would like to say that it's unrealistic, then I would say the same for your character slicing apart something 600 paces away or whatever in a flash. IC: Maboroshi looked over at the female figure, then smirked softly. He sheathed his blade with a barely audible clink, then took one step back into the shadows of the bamboo forest. He eyed the figure for a moment, then spoke quietly. "You now speak to Maboroshi." "Maboroshi? It means... Illusion does it not?" "Correct... literally" Maboroshi's image flickered uncertainly, then disappeared quietly into the undergrowth of the bamboos, melting into the dim darkness of the forest. Nothing was left, save the uncertain fluttering of Anzu's clothing in the silence of the forest. Anzu shivered slightly, then quickly drew her blade again, suddenly feeling unsafe in the eerie silence. "Correct... again." Maboroshi suddenly appeared in front of her, his blade drawn, a thin smile still playing on his lips. He hacked across, aimed to sever her head. Anzu quickly leapt off to the side, but by the time her eyes adjusted, Maboroshi again melted back into the darkness. "A coward that mingles with the shadows?" "Yes, if you want to put it that way." Maboroshi again appeared, this time right behind her, however facing in the opposite direction. His blade was drawn all the way back, the exact replica of the attack he copied off of the Onmitsu leader, Kumajiro. "At any rate, killing Oda will deprive me of my payment... and I'd rather not see that happen..." Maboroshi performed the Nagi attack, striking the bamboos and sending them up into the air again. With a faint snicker, he faded away again. "Let us see how you fare now..." The bamboos were sent up into the air in a flurry, then similar to before, fell towards Anzu, the sharp edges, a product of the kotou's nagi, all pointed down towards her, coming down to impale her to the ground. [/size][/color]