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[RP] Soul Eater: New Earth

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The-Blades-slave:
Warren had to admit, begrudgingly, they were strong. Malencia's form was sloppy and she wasted most of her chances to strike back, but that was mostly due to lack of training; they couldn't all have psychopathic fathers, he supposed. She was still probably the second strongest combatant in hand-to-hand, though, directly behind him. Their resonance caught his interest in a strange, dark way. Each explosion that echoed out across the chamber excited him, heart jumping into his throat, brain clouding in his eagerness...

"Warren," a strange voice drilled into his head, pushing away the fog. Oh, but he liked the fog... No. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, turning to face Silene. They were back in the lab now, when had that happened? This was getting out of hand. "Yeah, Silene?"

"You alright? You were looking a bit out of there for a second." She didn't directly say it, but he knew what she meant: "You aren't bat shit fucking insane right now, are you?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright." Don't worry, I'm not insane and about to kill you yet. Maybe next Tuesday though, just stick around. No, no he couldn't think like that. Couldn't think about hurting her, if he thought about it it became a possibility. It wasn't allowed to become a possibility, otherwise he would have to leave. Gah, why couldn't she just ditch him, it would make everything so much simpler!

"Good, I was worried!" She smiled, adorable dimples the size of craters sinking into her cheeks and he wanted to do nothing more than hug her and make sure nothing hurt her, except that would just be putting the dangerous closer and that wouldn't help and there was nothing he could do and- no, no. Calm down, breath. Okay, he was good.

"Don't be, I'll be fine." Sometimes he amazed himself at how calm his voice sounded. Could they really not see that no, he wouldn't be fine? He dreamed of blowing them into bloody smithereens at night, why were any of them around him? He should put himself in a mental institution, but no, that wouldn't work. He would probably just break through the walls, damn regular humans and their weak walls.

Silene turned her head, ears perked up, an adorably confused expression her face. Oh, was some one yelling? Damn them, he was trying to have a conversati- oh, it was Dagen. Of course, because the bastard couldn't just not follow him for once in his god damn life! Why didn't the moron stop yelling? Would he like it if all anyone else did was regurgitate shi- oh and now someone else was yelling too great! Yelling! Maybe he should just make an explosion and they could all shut up! They'd all be dead then, hahaha, then they couldn't ye- god damn it, he was doing it again. Stop it.

He turned towards Silene and focused on her. Immediately the stupid, psychotic, amazing wonderful thou- No! No stop it! Agh! "Let them yell, she'll get it out of her system. Everyone has to yell at that bastard at some point."

Silene nodded, her long beautiful hair that smelled like like roses and would look good blown - NO! NO IT WOULDN'T! "Yeah."

They sat in the corner in silence after that, watching the two and thinking about blowing up the chairs and desk and the stran- "So, that last mission we had..."

Tickles:
Dagen, already excited from the event, looked at Jessie (who seemed to be bending over thanks to her little tantrum) just smiled and flexed his muscles in a very subtle way.

My question is, why don't you strive to be stronger than him? At least I have the balls to stand up to him. Power is the only thing that matters in this world, and those that want it will become strong. I'm one of those people, I don't care what it takes. I'll be past everyone's level and then no one can call me weak ever again.

Dagen gave her a flirtful wink and walked away, Malencia approached Jessie and spoke softly to her.

He may seem like an ass at times, but deep down, he's actually quite nice. He's just afraid to show it. Says kindness is an excuse for weakness. I'm sorry if he offended you in any way. Take care.

She took a bow and followed after Dagen, saying something vague about their mission in Paris. The stranger was busy looking at a book while the commotion was going on. He only looked up a second to say one last thing.

If any of you have business for me, by all means, I have all night. If not, I think some of you need to get to your missions. Wouldn't want to keep those Kishin Eggs waiting now would we?

His eyes snapped back to his book, A Romance of Knives by Franken Stein. The cover seemed to have knife blades dripping in blood, and a smiling, nearly exposed woman under them. Sure signs this was one of those weird erotic novels.

Desbear:
Hason

As everyone else began to get up, I felt Steven tap me on the shoulder, and motion towards the door, speaking with a somewhat dull tone to his voice. "I'm gonna go pick us out a mission, since we sorta forgot to do so before this started, so we've most likely got the worst mission left. Come find me whenever, and we'll go." And with that, he was off; Running as he normally did, no doubt to pick a mission and then to go interact with his cats. As everyone, one by one began to leave the room, I slowly got up, and approached The Stranger. I began to speak, a somewhat cautious, and perhaps nervous tone to my voice. "You uh... You said to be here in three days, so I'm here, and ready for the tests, Sir."

The Stranger

As the young witch approached him, The Stranger let out a smile bellow his cloak; He had been looking forward to this from the other day, finally a chance to examine a witches soul without them trying to truly kill him. Without a word, The Stranger hit a button on his desk, several training dummies dropping from the ceiling, and coincidentally setting on fire. He spoke; His voice quick, and slightly demented. "We're going to test your endurance and power. You have to put out all seven dummies within ten seconds or else they'll burn up... Of their original ignition point, leaving about seven seconds as I finish this sentence."

Hason

As the training dummies fell from the ceiling, and were set aflame, I nearly zoned out of his explanation. I knew what I was supposed to do already, but... Could I? Something told me not too, and there was a tingle of delight I got from watching them burn, similar to one watching a movie they enjoyed. As the seconds ticked down, I seemed to come back from almost allowing them to burn, firing out several mid sized maws to douse the flames at once, with greater precision than ever.

The wind was seemingly knocked out of me at the sudden expenditure of energy, and I was reminded why I was taught to gradually fuel them, rather than to rip the energy out all at once. Nonetheless, I completed my task, and returned to my 'instructor', hoping that maybe he had assumed it was just the charge time for each maw, rather than me almost allowing it to be. I began to speak, a somewhat curious but cautious tone to my voice. "Did uh... Did I pass?"

The Stranger

Hmm... She put them all out with a maw for each one, signifying the well of magic she pulled from's strength, but there was something that caused him to be somewhat concerned. She cast the spell at near the last second, and she only 'succeeded' in the test due to a miscalculation on his part, as they stayed aflame for eleven seconds. He wanted to write it off as her taking time to conjure the spells, but he could sense her soul had wavered for a second during that time. He would however keep this knowledge to himself, as to not discourage her, and only write it down himself. This time when he spoke, his voice was a bit more calming, his abyssal eyes examining the barely standing dolls as he spoke. "Very good. It took you longer to conjure that spells than I had anticipated, but it still got the job done."

As he finished his sentence, his voice he clicked another button, several more dolls falling from the ceiling, again catching on the fire. He spoke again, his voice returning to it's demented demeanor, speaking a bit faster than before. "But can you succeed with triple the amount?"

Hason

As the second test began, I felt somewhat betrayed, but I also felt that warm feeling again. It was somewhat intoxicating, to be honest. The more I felt it, the more I wanted it to go on, the more I felt my judgement grow blurry... I had to stop it as soon as possible. I began to charge a maw, but realized rather soon that it wouldn't work alone, no; I didn't have enough time. I kicked my bag into the air, and caught it, taking out a water bottle and unscrewing it, pouring it's contents into the maw I had been charging, mixing the water into my own, and while it did leave more water behind than I had anticipated, it did succeed with less than a second to spare. I didn't turn to the stranger yet, I instead watched my work, or what I had done, all 21 training dummies still in some more of 'not completely burned'.

The Stranger

As the test came to an end once again, The Stranger was a bit surprised, as she succeeded in her task. He noted her soul wavered much more this time, almost dipping into allowing them to burn, but she put them out much faster this time; It was as if the more she wavered, the faster she was to react to something, which was... Intruiging, to say the least. This reaction time increase was hinting towards her being more likely to act without thinking the more she gave in, which would be good to know for further tests. The stranger concluded he would have to wait to put this to its limit for later, though, as she still had a Kishin hunting mission to get to.

There was another thing he noticed, but he would have to wait to put that to it's true test until much later. When he once again spoke, his voice was back to his somewhat calming tone, and he had moved away from his desk. "Ah, you were much faster this time. Your precision was off, but that was to be expected in this situation. I didn't even expect you to succeed in this task, so I must commend you in your use of mixing the pre-existing water with your own. Now then, hurry onto your mission with Steven, as I have to clean up all of this water."

Hason

As he finished his sentence, I nodded, taking my now water soaked bag, and leaving the room, heading into the city to look for Steven... And to pick up some more water.

The-Blades-slave:
The crescent moon hovered in the sky, grinning its toothy grin as a small, banged up car pulled to a stop in front of the opera house. The building was deceptively old and grand, polished marble and stained glass windows illuminated by the yellow moonlight, a stark contrast the dark forest that surrounded it. Silene pulled her keys from the ignition and slipped them into her purse with a shaky sigh, turning to her partner in the passenger seat. His feet were kicked up onto the dashboard, seat reclined as he snored softly. “Warren, get up, we’re here!”

Warren grunted in acknowledgement, pulling himself into an upright position in a sloth-like manner, grumbling. “I can’t believe you made me wear this shit.” Silene giggled. His normal sloppy attire had been exchanged with a single-breasted black jacket with glossy black buttons, a smooth white undershirt, black slacks and his regular steel-toed boots. She had tried for a tie and dress shoes, but they remained in a smouldering piled of leather and cloth at home (she didn’t press her luck). Even so, he cleaned up startlingly well.

She herself had chosen a form-fitting purple dress and heels. Her hair had been styled, falling to her waist in a wave-like fashion, and she wore a minimal amount of make-up; most notably the petal pink lipstick. A matching purse was slung over her shoulder. “Well, coming to a ballroom dressed in our normal gear would just freak people out. It’d probably scare the killer away, and we don’t have enough money to stay overnight!”

Warren sighed, stepping out of the car and burying his hands in his pockets, head downcast. “This stuff is so damn itchy, though. I don’t get how anyone wears it!”

“Oh, man up. I can’t believe you’ve never worn a suit before, didn’t your clan have any formal meetings or anything?”

“Yeah, but that was more of a ‘if you don’t do this we’ll kill you in cold-blooded fashion’ type of meeting. Wore whatever we were most comfortable fighting in, because brawls were pretty regular.” At the rather appalled look on his weapon’s face, he added, “Don’t worry, only two or three gave any bad injuries, and I can only remember one that someone died. It was probably the least dangerous thing we did, honestly.”

Silene shook her head, careful not to mess her hair up. His stories always made her stomach turn. What must it have been like growing up like that, always watching your back against everyone, even your parents? They were supposed to love and protect you from all the bad things, not actively expose you to them. She thought of her own parents, who she hadn’t talked with in months. In comparison, they didn’t really seem so bad… “Well, we’re here."

Warren nodded, staring up at the big wooden door. It was polished, like everything else, until its surface was as reflective as a mirror. From the other side of it he could hear a loud, slow song playing. “Nothing left to do, it’s time to hunt us a phantom.” He pulled a hand from his pocket, shoving open the door. Inside was an array of colors and tables, important looking men and women swaying back in forth in their expensive clothes.

Suddenly, Silene felt underdressed. They all looked so rich, whirling around the floor. God, she couldn’t dance like that. She had taken classes when she was younger, but...

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Warren assured her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her inside. They came to a stop at one of the big tables covered by the embroidered cloths. Tall, long-necked wine glasses and old bottles of wine lined the table. “Want a glass?”

The scythe shook her head, shooting him a soft warning glare. “Don’t think we’ll be able to spot a kishin egg drunk off our asses, Warren.”

He shrugged and poured himself a glass, leaning against the table as he sipped it. Something about the way he held it told her it wasn’t his first time drinking, which was curious considering he still wasn’t even of legal age. “The phantom always strike at midnight, we have an hour.”

Silene looked at her DeathPhone, hidden in her purse. He was right, the clock read 11:00 even. One hour to blow. They stood there for a while, her swaying to the beat and him drinking his wine. When he reached for the bottle to pour himself another glass, she decided to step in. “May I have this dance?”

Warren gave her a look that clearly said ‘you’re-fucking-dreaming’. “You do realize it’s men that generally ask women, right?”

“I don’t follow social standards. Besides,” she motioned over shoulder. “People are looking at us weird.”

The meister shrugged. “Let them, they can’t kick us out legally, DWMA students have the right to go wherever we’re assigned.”

Damn him, since when did he know the rules? It was time for the trump card.“I’ll give you your gum back.” She had confiscated it on the way because he wouldn’t stop chewing it and the smell, cramped up in the tiny car, had burned her nose.

A moment of hesitation followed before he finally replied, his voice strained, “deal.”

With a gracious smile, Silene inclined her head and placed her hand in his, steering them into the throng of couples swirling around the polished floor. Quickly, observing what the other couples had done, he pulled her close to him and she was forced to swallow her gasp as his arms fit snugly around her waist. Luckily, the dance was slow, because a sudden wave of dizziness hit her as the scent of wintergreen and musky cologne washed over her - it was oddly intoxicating. “I-I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” she mumbled, flustered at the pace.

“I can’t, at least not very well.” Warren tilted his head down to look at her, eyes half-lidded. Had his eyes always been that dark? He had obviously seen more than many men his relatively young age, she knew that, but it gave him an easily respectable air when he wanted one. “I’m just copying the people around us.”

Silene couldn’t help but let out a giggle that had suddenly become quite flirtatious. She immediately blushed afterwards and his smile threatened to turn into a grin, amusement lighting his eyes. “You’re doing a good job of it, then. I took lessons when I was younger and I can barely keep up!”

He chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. “Don’t expect me to make a habit of it.” His forehead came to rest against her's, body softly swaying with the beat. “I’d only do something like this for you, Sille. For anyone else it would just be too much effort.” His lips were just inches from hers, warm breath tickling her cheek.

“You’re such a lazy bum…” Her voice was low and breathy. It would be so easy to lean just a little bit forward and press her lips to his, to finally show him that he was more than just her friend and partner; she loved him, damn it. The song was drawing to a close, it was now or never. She stood on her tip toes, gazing directly into his eyes, and brought her li-

“Shit!”

Silene jumped back in surprise, eyes wide, scanning the room in panic. Had she gone too far? Damn it, she had scared him. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, now he was going to call off their partnership an- oh, no. The kishin egg had just appeared, that explained it.

“Well, phantom, looks like you aren’t so ghostly after all.” Warren stood several feet in front of her, hand wrapped around the wrist of someone, blocking the descent of the knife they held. “Lets try one more test, though; how do you react to an explosion?”

Silene could see the telltale sign of his attack from where she was standing; the rounding of his shoulder as he drew back his arm, wavelength gathering in the palm of his hand, knees slightly bent to deliver the strike full force - there was a grunt of pain as his blow found its mark, the explosion from his palm lifting the assailant off his feet and throwing him back.

The ballroom dissolved into chaos at the sudden fighting, people running and screaming, trying to figure out what was going on. Silene made her way to her meister, grabbing his his shoulder. “Where’d he go?”

Warren pointed at the shadows of the room, eyes narrowed. A man stumbled out, dressed in an extravagant suit with a black cape and white gloves. A porcelain mask obstructed his face, thin eye-slits glowing red, and his right hand gripped a knife. There was a smoking chunk missing from the midriff of his jacket, courtesy of the explosive attack. “I saw him right before we were about to, uh, finish our dance. Barely managed to catch the knife in time.”

Kiss you mean, Silene thought, decidedly angry. She had finally gotten the courage to do it, to kiss him, and this wannabe ghost had ruined it. He was going to pay- she couldn’t wait to eat his soul. “Ready, Warren?”

Warren nodded, catching her as she transformed into the scythe. Like always, he spun her around quickly in a predictable pattern, warming up. It kicked up a whirlwind, blowing his hair around. “Hey, phantom,” his grin was broad, but it wasn’t deranged. He had complete control of himself. “wanna take a shot at sticking someone who’s actually looking at you with that knife?”

The man snorted underneath his mask, rushing forward and swinging the dagger wildly. Warren caught it with the crook of the scythe, twisting the weapon out of the ghoul’s hand. It skidded across the marble floor of the now empty ballroom, scraping the otherwise flawless ground. “I’m gonna make you explode now!”

The familiar explosive wavelength flowed through Silene, gathering at the point of her blade, and she put her all into amplifying it. She was angry at the phantom, angrier than she had ever been, and it was time for payback.

Once the attack was ready, Warren struck out, hitting the ghoul in the chest. It exploded much stronger than his first attack had, launching the phantom haphazardly into the air. “Hold on Silene!”

“Got it!”

Warren, for the second time, used his scythe as a pole vault to launch himself higher by causing an explosion at the base of the weapon. He was like a speeding rocket as he hurtled through the air, foot smashing directly into the falling kishin egg’s chest. It grunted and hit the ceiling, shattering the pretty gold decor. Its soul drifted slowly to the ground, small and wispy red. “Can’t believe we had to come all the way out here for this, he didn’t even put up a fight.”

Silene transformed back into her human form, nodding. “I did expect him to do something with how much hype the people around here had been giving him.” She crouched down beside the soul, picking it up and tossing it between hands. It felt significantly less powerful than the last one she had eaten, Kreddy Frueger, but she couldn’t complain. A soul was a soul. With a soft sigh, she swallowed it, coughing at how bitter and twisted it was. “His soul wasn’t even good.”

The scythe meister chuckled, pulling Silene back to her feet. “I think you owe me my gum, now. I really want a piece.” She tossed it to him and the silence that followed was almost comfortable, the only sounds the slow music in the background and the smacking of gum. Everyone else had fled in their panic.

“Warren?”

"Huh?"

“Lets get going, I don’t wanna be here when they find that hole in their ceiling.” They left the opera house behind, their mission complete. It was a success in her book. She got to see Warren in a suit, got him to dance, almost got a kiss! Oh, and they got another soul, so that was something.

Desbear:
Our target was dubbed 'The Batter', his location an abandoned baseball stadium on the edge of town. The field was clear and open, the atmosphere silent save for the low humming of the training equipment and the flickering of the spotlights. It was quite apparent that our target had been here moments before, so a single question plagued out mind; where was he?

My question was soon answered, low voice ringing out across the field. "Specter, I have come to purify you." As the words were finished I heard the mechanism from the training equipment fire, and then distinct noise of a bat colliding with a baseball echoed throughout the field. Out of instinct, I began to twirl Steven, a shield materializing in front of me. The ball collided with the shield, thin spiderweb-like cracks spiraling from the collision point, signifying the force of the blow. As the ball fell to the ground, the lights flickered out and fear sparked down my spine, leaving a knot of terror in my stomach. Something was wrong.

The spotlights flickered back on, revealing our target standing face to face with us, bat held to the side poised to strike. His skin was almost completely white, and his eyes were obscured by the cap he wore. His outfit consisted of a baseball player's uniform: a white striped shirt, white trousers and cleats. I saw a smirk grow on his face and he swung the bat with force unmatched, shattering the shield and whipping up a cloud of dust in the process. The bat didn't stop with the shield, it went straight through and collided with my side, sending me flying across the field and into a wall. The force was so great the stone shatter under my weight, cracking much like my shield had.

My vision flashed in and out as I got up, retrieving Steven in the process. The lights flickered on and off too, and I could see him running, growing closer with each flicker of the lights. As I got ready to make my move, a copper taste filled my mouth, and I spit out a mouthful of blood. A lingering pain stayed at my side, and I gripped at it, holding it with my left hand and Steven with my right. Anger washed over me, and the grip I had on both my side,and Steven tightened, my vision blurry. My soul protection dropped in an instant, and the large amounts of electricity began to overwhelm me, but I had one ace up my sleeve; when the lights flickered off, so did the power, and he was the only electricity I truly sensed during this time, granting me a slight advantage during this.

At the next outage, I reared back my arm, swinging Steven with full force and launching two maws beside him, hoping to clip something. The lights flickered back on in time for me to see him bat Steven away, however the maws seemed to catch him off guard, one of them taking off a bite out of his shoulder. This still didn't stop his assault as the lights flickered off,  and I dropped down, feeling the wind rush over my head as the bat passed over me, missing ever so slightly.

The lights returned just in time for me to stare into his eyes, and finally get a glimpse of who I was fighting; or rather, what. In place of normal eyes he had four slits, two on either side of his head, with red, almost glowing pupils. I should have felt fear or despair at this sight, but I felt quite the opposite. Anger roared through my blood, imbuing my attacks with raw strength. I whipped Steven up into the air, and swung him around, seemingly missing The Batter as the lights flickered off once again. I heard a laugh and could sense he had raised his bat. Fear finally began to overpower anger, and I let go of Steven's hilt, and just sort of resigned myself to my fate... And then, nothing.

The lights flickered on, and I could see him standing there, the chakram having embedded itself in his back, as if it swung back towards us before I had dropped it. The Batter first dropped his bat, and then collapsed to the ground, turning into a soul mid-fall. As the lights flickered on and off, the adrenaline and anger began to fade, and pain washed over my side once again. I began to clutch my wound, wincing and stumbling as I powered through the pain, walking towards the exit of the stadium.

As Steven caught up with me, I smirked; he looked rather pale after that whole ordeal. "Hey, Steven, you're uh... You're lookin' a little pale."

To this, he just sort of shrugged as he got ready to send us back, answering with a disgusted tone. "Eh, must have come with the sense of self righteousness I got from the soul."

As we exited the area, I could have sworn I heard a final deep laugh from the stadium, and the lights flicker off one final time... But that was just my imagination, right?

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