Re: Executing God's Will (Arc 3 Magic Side)

**Kamijou Touko** Sat Aug 22, 2015 12:45 pm

«…this is nothing this city has created…this was all your work…you are the one…that will face righteousness!!!»

Kamijou Touko was nothing special. While her ability would neutralise any supernatural phenomenon it wouldn’t grant her any advantage in an ordinary fistfight. There her ability would not change the fact that she was just an ordinary highschool girl. Yes, she might have been able to take on two opponents at the same time, however once it got to three she was left with no choice other than running away.

Currently there were six or seven. She couldn’t properly make it out in her numb state. Encircled by their overwhelming number she remained alone.

If it weren’t for the adrenaline and the strong emotions she wouldn’t even be standing on her legs anymore; so logically spoken: This was an impossible feat.

However was Kamijou Touko still capable of grasping logic? Was she still capable of gathering a correct understanding of the situation? Or had she already turned into nothing but a mere wild beast, filled with unwavering determination and insanity.

In the end, as defeat was drawing in from all sides, she made a move of her own.

Pressing forward she attacked the two zombies to the Magician’s right. A simple touch of her hand had been enough to incapacitate both of them, turning them into nothing less but a limb body that’d most definitely fall to the ground in no time. Using what skill she had left to tip the right opponent into the direction the Magician was in she would not only block his path but open a new one all for herself. With the other to the left also down, for a split second there was none to block her path. She would use that condition to break free of the circle, hurrying at speeds that should have been beyond her own capabilities.

Arriving on the outside she would immediately turn around facing the one at the centre of it all. The tables had been turned. Eying her target with the same animalistic eyes she had presented him before she was clenching her fist yet again. The distance was six metres.

There was no need to eye the others alongside him. Anyone but him would go down after so much as a brush of her hand.

«Aren’t you growing tired of this? Do you still believe your numbers are a match for my Imagine Breaker? Do you really believe your superiority in numbers will get you anywhere?!»

This time she was prepared for anything that may come.

This time she would face him with a plan of her own.

This time would become the decisive moment.

•••

Executing God's Will (Arc 3 Magic Side) - Page 7 Pfbjqkzc

After parting with that blonde Magician, Shirou had returned back onto his legs as well. The stinging would serve as a strong reminder of his opponent’s skills and what reckless manoeuvres it had required for him to escape the counter.

So for the time being the boy was eyeing his opponent with great caution, putting any of their movements through thorough analysis.

As the hilt was pulled from the pocket and stuck into the wall, Emiya Shirou truly was on edge. All he had seen was simply running through his head, undergoing calm analysis that on the other hand would lead to a certain result.

Jack Nightingale had done a crucial mistake. Well not that he could have known that what he had done actually contained a mistake. How could he have known about the simple fact that made Emiya Shirou such a special person? How could he have known about that alignment of his and the natural connection he had through it?

The next instance the blade had come and it had indeed sliced through the first thing it made contact with as if it was nothing less than a piece of cloth. Yet what that blade of stone and rubble had sliced was neither of human flesh or steel. It was glass. A simple long shape of translucent glass filled with a familiar substance of white grains, a salt shaker Shirou had brought along just in case. He had simply flung it in the air last second, while hurriedly jumping backwards to avoid the blade’s death bringing length.

«I see, so your Tyrfing can cut anything it targets? Amazing. I really thought this was over, there!» Something about him was quite unnatural. Not only did the act of seeing through his opponent’s spell seem like a casual action to that boy, but he had surely seen too deeply into it.

«You might be surprised, but I guess this is actually quite a rare occasion. I’m not aligned with Christianity but with the pagan believes of Norse Mythology. The Dvergr to be precise. Basically my spell is kind of based on their legendary craft, the creation of formidable weapons and along with that there is also the understanding of such. It’s a little complicated to express, but I was able to immediately tell that what this hilt is embodying is Tyrfing.»

Calmly stretching out his right hand, a strong light appeared, giving birth to what had the shape of a sword.

A golden hilt, a formidable blade gleaming and shining like fire and an ominous feeling reminiscent of the dark side of the occult.

«However what you’re using is just a replica created through the means of the Idol Theory, a rough copy with only a 100th of the originals strength. In comparison a copy crafted with more care, through the means of its original creators and faith towards the original should be a little more valuable than a 100th, right?»

A serious expression had formed on that boy’s face. It seemed hiding the strain had become more difficult than he had expected. Obviously, it was not only the loss of his limply hanging left hand he had been forced to endure just now.

**Jack Nightingale** Sat Sep 05, 2015 12:42 am

This was fine, this was fine! He'd never expected this many thralls to get the better of that monster when she'd dealt with so many more with such ease. From the beginning, all he'd wanted was a simple distraction. Something to give that thing just a single opening for him to take advantage of. But even that had failed! It had broken the encirclement before he could get close. But that was still fine.

Aside from his thralls, he had no other spells to rely on; nothing else with which to crush that thing. But his primary spell had proved all but useless against her; she nullified his control over each and every thrall with just a single touch. He had no weapons, no other spells, and no more thralls; he had been left with nothing but his own body and the space that lied between that thing and him.

But he wouldn't give up because of something like that. In fact, that was all he'd ever intended to use. As long as he could still move, he would use anything and everything he had to take that thing down now, and then go on to complete the mission given to him. Without holding anything back, he put all his strength into running. Running toward that thing he called his enemy. And even once he reached it, he would not stop. He would put all his weight and momentum into a full body tackle he'd use to crush that thing.

It had an unknown ability that allowed it to nullify his magic, but as far he could tell it still had the physical strength of a simple high school girl. He larger than her, heavier than her, and stronger than her. Even injured as he was from his previous escape, if this blow hit, then that thing would not get away unscathed. No, he would not allow it to.

He forgot to even attempt to hide his shock. What surprised him was not that his enemy had blocked his first strike, however; anyone with sufficient skill or luck could do the same. It was not his enemy's knowledge, either, unnerving though it was. While that certainly presented a threat, spells to analyze other spells did indeed exist; while of a higher order, this was not something he could say he had never seen before. No, what truly surprised him, what shocked him to his core, was the blade his enemy now held in his hand.

It was Tyrfing. Not another spiritual weapon based on the same myth he'd used as the foundation for his own, but the exact same sword. The same weapon he'd labored to create; the same item that he had wielded as he traveled through the world in search of any and every way to bring his dream to fruition. Something he kept at his side at all times, something that he had killed peopled with, and something he had saved people's lives with. An identical replica, or perhaps even a superior version of that weapon had appeared in his enemy's hands. Far more than his previous two actions, this was abnormal. This was dangerous. This... Seemed as if it was a spell intentionally designed for the sole purpose of spitting in his face.

His shock had already given way to cold anger, and he had precious little time left to act on it. If his opponent's claim regarding the increased power of his copy had any veracity to it at all, then that sword was incredibly dangerous. But even so, he couldn't let that faze him. Not because pausing when he was still losing blood even now could result in his immediate death, but because taking such an action in the presence of that counterfeit would be tantamount to admitting his inferiority. It would be the same as accepting that his seven years of effort really were so worthless as to be reproduced and surpassed in the span of an instant.

That fake... He wouldn't lose to it. No, he would crush it with ease, prove his superiority, and kill that bastard who'd had the gall to make such a thing. And all he needed to do to accomplish that was to swing his sword. After all, if that sword truly was as perfect a copy of Tyrfing as he'd said it was, then it had no way to defend against it's own power. There was also the fact that his opponent had only just held that sword for the first time. Regardless of its power, if its wielder did not know the proper way to use it, then even a weapon capable of slaying gods would be rendered all but useless. And on top of that, he hadn't missed the exhaustion his enemy had displayed upon the creation of that sword.

Yes, his victory was assured. There was no chance of him losing. As such, all that was left was for him to swing his sword. He would swing his sword, destroy the fake with a single blow, and unleash one of his weapon's three curses upon his enemy in the same instant. After that, all that would be left is to see whether or not his enemy could produce yet another fake before he was cut down. But still. Even though that was all that he needed to do, he couldn't resist taking just a single superfluous action.

"Libertas719. I shall sever the chains that bind me."

He spoke his magic name aloud for all the world to hear.

**Kamijou Touko** Sun Sep 06, 2015 8:25 pm

«A Magic Name, huh. Seems like I hurt your pride a little too much, sorry…also sorry for not being able to return that favour.»

Faced with the fierce, dangerous will of his opponent Emiya Shirou couldn’t do anything else than speak up in an apologetic manner. He had never held a Magic Name and never had he been able to understand the concept that was a Magician’s pride.

The sword came, swung with all those emotions he felt so bitter about not having a grasp of.

He would answer it with a swing of his own.

Both swords were Tyrfing. Both swords were based on the same concept, but created through different means. One was the crystallisation of the Magicians’ art of crafting spells through finesse and mixture of concepts, the other the idealised perfect copy. While one sword held certain capabilities, the other’s where wholly different.

Shirou’s Tyrfing wouldn't be made from the walls, nor could its cut cross any distance. Nonetheless it held the capability of bringing death each time it was drawn. And it would do so by taking the lead.

There was no requirement for Shirou to even execute a swing or to even aim. The sword itself would do all of the work all by itself. Glowing like fire as it was, it’d move forward pulling the one swinging it along. It wouldn’t move at human speeds, far surpassing any sort of logic, avoiding all that would remain in its way, as it would only seek the sure kill. The blade coming for it, it would avoid by using the same logic of inevitable end against it. If Tyrfing was cut, death wouldn’t be brought over anyone, so it wouldn’t be cut until someone died.

Breaking all laws of logic it would travel through space, dodging all obstacles, rushing straight for the most vital spot, targeting to pierce that blonde’s head, destroying all which was his life force.

At least it should have done so.

Blood sprayed everywhere. With a heavy thud the boy’s body collided with the ground after falling from the air. Tyrfing hadn’t cut Tyrfing; it had taken something different instead. The hand posing as the connection between wielder and sword had been severed.

Usually this would have not been an issue. Even without the one swinging it, Tyrfing would always bring death. However this would only have been under normal conditions. The current conditions were a whole lot different. This one had only been a copy crafted by a spell always requiring a Magician in order to manifest. If contact or focus were lost there was no basis for the manifestation, thus the spell would malfunction.

And if the spell malfunctioned, the sword would crumble apart, not leaving any trace.

**Jack Nightingale** Thu Sep 17, 2015 11:03 pm

What exactly had occurred was not immediately clear to him. One moment they had both been to swing their swords and bring death to the other, and next his enemy's hand had been severed and whatever spell he had used to bring his weapon into existence, disabled. Everything had happened in such short succession that the events blurred together, and he couldn't tell what had caused what in his rapidly weakening state. He knew that they had both swung their swords at the same moment, and that his enemy's hand had been severed immediately after, but it could've just as easily been caused by a malfunction in the enemy's spell as it could have been the result of his own.

But regardless of the truth, one fact could not be changed. His enemy had taken a decisively fatal wound, and been disarmed to boot. With his current rate of blood loss, Jack would pass out in a little more than a minute, but it would take even less time for his enemy to succumb to his wound. In fact, it was likely that he no longer had the strength to even do so much as stand.

"Like I thought, that was just a poorly made fake."

That was his pride speaking. Those were the words he absolutely had to speak before his enemy passed into unconsciousness and rendered the chance to retort forever lost to him. In truth, there was more that he wanted to say, but there was no time. The adrenaline that had kept him going this long was being removed from his system by his body now that he was no longer under attack, and the loss of blood had left his legs weak. Therefore, he only said the bare minimum necessary for him to clear away the possibility of regret.

Stumbling now, he made his way to the wall and promptly collapsed once he reached it. With the last of strength, he removed his shirt and tied it around his shoulder, attempting to staunch the bleeding as much as he could. That would give him a bit more time. but there still wasn't much time left before he passed out. Once that happened, he'd be unable to do anything but bleed out and die. Fortunately, that was an unlikely eventuality. Those girls didn't seem like they were hard-hearted enough to leave him to die, after all.

**Kamijou Touko** Sat Sep 19, 2015 10:43 am

The time of defeat had arrived. Emiya Shirou was beaten. Now that he had lost both of his hands there was no chance for him to recover, thus there was no use in trying to continue this. Blood was seeping from both the hole in his left and the clean cut where his right had been before. With every inch the puddle surrounding him grew, he could feel his body growing colder and colder.

But even now his eyes hadn’t changed. Even under that tremendous pain, drowning in his own body’s weakness, his spirit would remain unbroken.

Facing off against the heavy burdens that made him suffer, the red haired boy brought up what strength he had to turn his head towards the only other one present.

His expression was a smile, so pure.

«It was never anything beyond that…you could say…everything I am is just a poorly made fake…»

There was no regret, no shame, no dishonour. He simply spoke out those facts he knew were facts.

«I thought it’d be enough to overcome an original…but it seems I was entirely wrong…heh…in the end I…really…could never rival a true Magician’s effort…huh?»

With his body lying limply he had no strength left, not for standing up, not for lifting his body up, not for picking the fight up again, nor was there hardly any for talking. Yet he still did…

«…in the end…I was in the wrong...»

The difference between a Magician and that what he was had been too grave to describe. He had known it was there, but he had never expected it to turn out this way. He had struggled to defend that idiotic goal he had held, but in the end his will hadn’t been comparable to the one that had carved it deep into his soul. In the end…

Emiya Shirou came to realise. No , he had known all along.

«…our actions…this isn’t…just…is it…?»

**Jack Nightingale** Thu Sep 24, 2015 5:42 am

«It was never anything beyond that…you could say…everything I am is just a poorly made fake… I thought it’d be enough to overcome an original…but it seems I was entirely wrong…heh…in the end I…really…could never rival a true Magician’s effort…huh? …In the end…I was in the wrong... …Our actions…this isn’t…just…is it…?»

"That doesn't matter."

They were the last words of a dying man, and those of his enemy, no less. But disregarding that, Jack spoke. Now that the battle was over, and he had secured his victory, there was no need to be hung up over such unimportant distinctions. It didn't matter whether the boy was an enemy or an ally anymore. Now, Jack was simply a witness to the boy's last moments on this earth. So instead of needlessly antagonizing him, he'd use the last moments of their consciousness to correct the boy's words.

"It doesn't matter whether your actions are just. Whether they're good or evil is something decided by other people, so there's no need for you yourself to bother with such distinctions. Leave that to others. All you need to care about is whether you did whatever it is that you wanted to do."

The boy's smile made it clear that despite his words, he had accepted this outcome and made peace with it. To say anything here, to disagree with him, could very well shatter that happy dream he had made. A single careless remark, and the boy would be die with turbulent emotions without ever receiving a chance to resolve them. But Jack still spoke. That boy had come to the conclusion that he had committed a sin with his actions, that he had done wrong. For the sake of resolving that misunderstanding, he would have to simply ignore his compassion for now.

**Kamijou Touko** Thu Sep 24, 2015 11:21 am

"It doesn't matter whether your actions are just. Whether they're good or evil is something decided by other people, so there's no need for you yourself to bother with such distinctions. Leave that to others. All you need to care about is whether you did whatever it is that you wanted to do."

His smile intensified. His soul felt satisfied with approaching the final stage in this final instance. He smiled so brightly and happily as if diving deeper into the ocean of unending dreams.

He could feel that it was closing in and he felt that those words had given him what he had been searching for his whole life.

Maybe they wouldn’t have been strong under normal circumstances, maybe the end that was closing in was what gave them such weight. Nonetheless, he was happy with the outcome.

«…until…the end I fought for justice…trying my most to save…this world…»

Everything was on the verge of fading.

«…I didn’t become…the superhero I wished…to become…»

«…However…»

«that doesn’t…matter anymore.»

«…at least…this madness will…come to an end…»

«…That Girl…she will end it…and save everyone…That Girl…she has to do it…!»

«…in that I…Emiya…Shirou…trust…»

Passing on the burden of his dreams to the last fighter standing, that boy had long since lost his ability to talk properly. His ever weakening body had become a burden in the face of salvation. Slowly the exchange went by.

Coldness for warmth

Pain for relief.

Struggle for compensation.

This realm for the next.

«…That Girl, I hope she…will never…end up like those swords of mine…if she should ever run into…him…»

Those were the final words of Emiya Shirou.

**Hujisaka Natsumi** Fri Sep 25, 2015 10:58 pm

Hidden away behind a corner was the long brown-haired girl sighed a satisfied sigh as she clutched the odd dagger to her chest; in the end she hadn't needed to use it. By the time she had arrived the battle between the two magicians was nearly settled, though she had figured she'd stay near in case Jack needed support.

Why she hadn't arrived to help either Touko or Jack sooner was something they'd need to discover to themselves; Natsume couldn't ponder her actions any further as he attention was caught by the heavily injured boy's enigmatic muttering

«…That Girl…she will end it…and save everyone…That Girl…she has to do it…!»

Natsume wasn't sure who “that girl” referred to. Was it herself, Touko, or was he just talking to himself about another girl? But the likeliness of that faded away as he continued his dying muttering.

«…in that I…Emiya…Shirou…trust … That Girl, I hope she…will never…end up like those swords of mine…if she should ever run into…him…»

The final words of the boy caused Natsume to release an anxious sigh she hadn't known she had drawn in and made her step out of her hiding zone. “Is he dead?” Natsume asked in a slightly self-deprecating tone despite well-aware she couldn't wish for everyone to stay safe and sound amidst such conflicts.

...Conflicts.

The girl took a deep breath in and disregarded any previous uncertainty as she grasped the dagger tighter with her right hand; determination making itself clear in her eyes. “Kamijou-san should still be fighting, we need to go and finish what our side has brought onto this city.” She awaited no reply as she marched on towards the last direction Natsume had seen Touko rush in, her other hand secretly playing around with strands of hair within her pouch.

**Jack Nightingale** Mon Sep 28, 2015 6:31 am

«…until…the end I fought for justice…trying my most to save…this world… …I didn’t become…the superhero I wished…to become… …However… That doesn’t…matter anymore. …At least…this madness will…come to an end… …That Girl…she will end it…and save everyone…That Girl…she has to do it…! …In that I…Emiya…Shirou…trust… …That Girl, I hope she…will never…end up like those swords of mine…if she should ever run into…him…»

At the sight of the boy's smile, Jack returned one of his own. The worst outcome did not occur. Instead, he had successfully accomplished his goal. His words had not led the boy to to despair, but to a new answer. Satisfied, he leaned back and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable as his consciousness faded. The boy's... No, Shirou's words about the girl, presumably referring to Touko, were ominous, but he didn't have the presence of thought to ponder them at the moment. He was already falling asleep, and his thoughts were sluggish.

“Is he dead? Kamijou-san should still be fighting, we need to go and finish what our side has brought onto this city.”

He'd almost missed Natsume's entrance, he was so out of it. Fortunately, she had spoken up before he had given up the last of consciousness. He couldn't fight any longer, but there was still something he needed done. Normally, it would have irritated him some to have to push something he'd decided to do onto someone else, but either because the battle with Shirou had come to a satisfying end or because of the blood loss, he found he didn't mind this time.

"Hey. That foreigner stole something from Milo, Touko's friend. Get it back, will you?"

Speaking those words used up the very last of his strength.

With faith that the two girls wouldn't fail, he fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

**Kamijou Touko** Sat Oct 03, 2015 3:15 pm

Logic, reason, plans, success, failure, difference, similarity, strength, limits. What did all those matter in the end? Everything would break apart in battle step by step. Those were the times of conclusion.

As the Magician departed, Kamijou Touko had already expected his arrival.

Her fist would welcome his jaw, delivering all those emotions that had grown too complicated to put into words anymore.

Her punch wasn’t that of an ordinary high school girl, her movements weren’t, even her ability to predict that desperate attack was built from far too much experience in the back alleys.

Maybe it would have been different if he had used Magic, but he hadn’t. That idiot had chosen the one kind of fighting style she was so accommodated to and that’d remain as his greatest mistake.

The fist flew like a kamikaze fighter and upon landing it would shatter all in its way.

Not even the fist itself would be able to endure that impact, her fingers would snap, the hand dislocated and the pain remain unendurable, but what did matter then?

With a simple smack in the face, all would be resolved.

Justice would be delivered.

…

…so in the end: Did that right fist truly destroy that illusion?

**Jack Nightingale** Mon Oct 05, 2015 6:05 am

This was the end.

This would be the final exchange of blows in this battle. As he looked into the girl's eyes and saw her draw her arm back in preparation to deliver a blow with which to counter his own, he instinctively understand that. The two of them were exhausted, all of their cards were used up, and both had dedicated all the strength they had left in them to this one assault. However, even though this was the final act and the girl had seen his blow coming and now lied in wait, fully prepared, he had not given up. This was the climax of their battle, yes, but that by no means meant that the victor had been decided.

His enemy had predicted his movements, and was a step ahead of him. That was the advantage that would allow him to win this fight. Because the girl was a step ahead of him and prepared to counter his attack, he knew exactly what she was going to do. So, even if he was defeated here. Even if this ended in the girl's victory. So long as he could predict the girl's actions in the same way she could predict his, he could take her with him. Even defeated, he would remain victorious.

He was leading his charge with his left shoulder, and that left his right arm hidden from the girl's field of vision. Taking advantage of that, he removed his knife from his right pocket and flipped it open, careful not to make any extra motions that the girl might be able to see. The moment he got close, in the instant before the girl's blow landed, he'd extend his arm toward her throat. There was no way for her to have seen his knife, and since his arms were longer than hers, if they were close enough for her to punch him then he was definitely at a close enough range to stab her.

He could see his victory just as clearly as his defeat. Now, they were merely visions of the future, but in the next few moments, he would make them into reality.

**Kamijou Touko** Wed Oct 07, 2015 7:06 pm

Executing God's Will (Arc 3 Magic Side) - Page 7 R7wct3d5

He had witnessed everything. The moment that calamity had broken out in the dorms he had been the first one to notice and probably the last. He hadn’t interfered, instead he had taken the best position available, watching the events unfold. Neither did he move when he saw the innocent students being turned into mindless monsters nor had he interfered when vast numbers had been injured in the process.

All this time the boy had been watching from his safe position, only switching grounds occasionally while not loosening his cover.

He had been waiting this whole time, following the final battle hidden behind one of the corridor’s many doors. With that gun in his hand he had been watching and aiming.

Up until now.

Covered by the silencer the gunshot’s sound was nothing to ever take notice of.

The projectile put to waste any and all resistance put up by the Magician, brushing the hand with which he had tried to pull knife, loosening the grip and neutralising his final attack for good. Except for the scar and a projectile in the wall no trace would remain.

And just like there would be no real proof for his interference there would be no trace of him left behind.

The job was done, the true hero's success had been ensured, just as planned.

•••

The fist would hit right on the mark, ending everything.

Kamijou Touko wouldn’t even notice the gunshot, did she not even notice the pain of bones shattering. She didn’t scream, she didn’t cry, she did nothing but give in to the numb feeling overcoming her from head to toes.

Pain had disappeared, sound had disappeared, sight had, reality had…

As she was diving into the ocean of whiteness, the pointy haired girl collapsed.

**Hujisaka Natsumi** Sat Oct 10, 2015 12:10 am

Though her legs had taken her to her destination as fast as they could; Natsume only arrived a few moments later to see two collapsed bodies and quickly kneed besides one as she searched for a pulse which she thankfully found easily.

Regardless, this mess would certainly require a massive hospitalisation of nearly the entire dormitory, she thought depressingly as she rose and looked around. It didn't seem like Touko and Shinichiro had collapsed right when she arrived, yet backtracking a bit told her Shinichiro's defeat hadn't taken care of the apocalypse.

And though she really wanted to get rid of it herself, there was one question that nagged her as she cautiously approached Shinichiro and that was: how? She spent another few moments recalling all of the interactions, friendly or hostile, she had had with Shinichiro in just this one day.

However... Details were blurry in her mind and memories*.

And so it seemed she would have to conduct a body search for anything that could look suspicious as she took hold of her dagger in face of any potential faking of unconsciousness. She tapped around cautiously in Shinichiro's pocket while making sure to not actually make any contact with his skin in fear of waking him up.

In one of the first pockets she tapped, Natsume found a small silver key attached to a chain and after a while of additional tapping and tapping, she found something else that looked quite suspicious and pulled it out of its resting spot. It was a voodoo doll; something that couldn't possibly be more out-of-place in the city they were currently in.

And it made perfect sense as to how he managed to control the entire dormitory as she noted the many hairs stuck to the doll's straw, which meant the odd necklace was either another artefact of his or was the stolen object Jack Nightingale had spoken of.

(At the very least, this should all be over when I destroy this doll.) She thought as she individually removed the hairs from the frankly odd-looking straw figure and her next thought brought forth an exhausted sigh. (And then, I've to take care of those two magicians...)

***

It had been a rough job to ensure everyone's hair was out of the straw before attempting to do anything to it, but at the very least she had succeeded and a handful of broken locks later she had located utilities such as ropes and duct tape which she had very carefully wrapped all around any limb Shinichiro could possibly move.

His mouth had also been sealed away and he was fully ready for a painful session of dragging for both parties. Touko, on the other hand, would find herself awakening in a more comfortable position than the one she had collapsed in if she were to wake up before an ambulance that she had contacted arrived.

After what felt like an eternity, Natsume finally returned to where Jack Nightingale was located, however he seemed just as knocked out from his blood loss as before, if not more. Taking pity on the boy she had decided to help out a bit, and as she finished patching up Jack's injuries using tightened cloth from additional clothes she had found on the students, Natsume realised it seemed the dragging works would continue until they were generally out of sight as it probably wouldn't be a good idea to hospitalise magicians who had infiltrated the city.

Her back screamed in protest as she unhappily obliged until they arrived in an alley not too far away from the dormitory, dropping the necklace in Jack's hands

(*OOC Note: Just like they are in mine. Nothing better than an owner that can relate so much to their character, aye?)

**Jack Nightingale** Fri Oct 16, 2015 8:34 am

He did not awake to the soft glow of the sun in the morning as he slowly rose from his bed, shaking off the lingering drowsiness from his sleep, nor did he awake to the cold concrete in a poorly lit alleyway, every muscle in his body screaming in protest at the uncomfortable position he had left them in as he had become increasingly used to. Instead, he awoke to find himself being dragged through an alleyway by a young girl like some parcel she couldn't find the strength to lift, yet had to carry off regardless. While this would normally warrant a significantly more extreme reaction, his thoughts were still moving somewhat sluggishly. As a result, it wasn't until the girl finally stopped and dropped something in his hands that his awareness finally returned to him in full.

It was the recognition that did the job. When his eyes fell on the necklace, the memories of what he had been doing before he had passed out were all brought straight to the forefront of his mind, taking his consciousness with it. The necklace was Milo's. The girl was Natsume. This place was Academy City.

He hadn't forgotten any of this, but he had simply been unable to form thoughts of a sufficiently high order of complication to necessitate the recall of such things. As such, he had simply laid there in a daze, uncomprehending of the world around him. But the necklace had caused to him to reflexively recall the recent events, and that acted as the trigger to rouse him to full consciousness.

"...Natsume, right?"

As he spoke, he attempted to rise to his feet, but made the mistake of attempting to support himself with his injured arm in the process. It had, fortunately, ended with simply an attempt, but the pain from simply attempting to move the limb had caused a several short waves of agony to wash over him. If he had not been stopped, then he would have certainly reopened his injury, worsening his condition considerably, but that was not a concern for him at the moment. Pain was pain. Whether or not sensations even more excruciating than your own existed was not something one thought about in the heat of the moment. Such musings only came to mind long after the experience had become little more than a memory, and the wound just another scar.

"Guh...!"

With a vain attempt to stifle his grunt of pain, he reoriented himself and drunkenly stumbled to his feet. His face was pale, but that was not a pressing concern, and with his wound wrapped bleeding out wasn't a worry anymore. For now, he needed to find a place to rest and regain his strength. He would have to get this necklace to Milo sometime soon, but recovering from his injuries took priority for now. There would be no point to return the thing only to die because he'd neglected to tend to his wounds.

"Thanks for the help, Natsume. Let's meet under better circumstances next time, alright?"

It was a flippant remark and not something someone in his condition should be saying, but he accompanied his words with a joking grin nevertheless. Content with that as his final say in the incident, he turned his back and made to travel deeper into the alleys, to some unknown destination.

"I don't really care about that guy you've got there, so I'll just leave him to you."

From start to finish, he had never bothered with anything he was unconcerned with.

**Hujisaka Natsumi** Fri Oct 16, 2015 1:53 pm

Thankfully, it hadn't taken long for the blond magician to awaken, and though he had been dragged like a heavy bag of rice, he didn't seem to be showing any hostile attention towards Natsume as a result from the harsh treatment. What a change from most magicians that would just leach at each other's throat at the second they realise they're both magicians...

“Uwah, easy there!” Natsume slightly cried out after nodding to confirm her name as she grabbed the boy who was forcing himself back up, letting go of him when she was sure he wouldn't collide face first with the ground.

"Thanks for the help, Natsume. Let's meet under better circumstances next time, alright?"

Another nod accompanied by a slight smile as Natsume returned her attention towards Shinichiro. Frankly, she would have interrogated Jack about his presence in Academy City if only she didn't have to take care of Shinichiro, who unlike Jack had shown a hostile attitude towards Espers. And besides, she had a feeling anyone who set foot in this city once would return at some point or another. This city was a home for supernatural occurrences and “coincidences”, after all.

That thought reminded her of Touko, however, whom she had ultimately abandoned in the dormitory in favour of getting these magicians out of conflict zone. It was likely she lived in that dormitory from how shaken she was when she learnt of the enemy's hideout, so perhaps they'd meet again if Natsume roamed around the dormitory or any hospital close to it; that girl was also definitely a source of curiosity for Natsume.

But important matters first.

“...What am I going to do with him?” Natsume cried out as her muscles protested at the idea of dragging even more; let alone getting the boy out of the city for now...

**Kamijou Touko** Sat Oct 17, 2015 12:51 pm

«Leave it to the true professionals, I would suggest, nya.»

At this point there should have been an unwritten law for all back alleys saying that you’d hardly ever notice when somebody approached you. Just like this another event had occurred that very well fit said into said category.

A remarkably fancy boy of about highschool age had all of sudden appeared from what seemed like thin air - he probably had some degree of sneaking prowess. On his face throned a large set of dark see-through sunglasses, his hair was died blonde and cut in the fanciest manner so that even his loosely buttoned hawaiian shirt and gold chains wouldn’t come across unfitting at all. In a sense this person appeared as distanced from a low profile as possible, actually making the whole mysterious air of his sudden appearance all the more unfitting.

Nonetheless, for some reason he didn’t seem out of place at all.

«The heroes have done their job, the fight is won, the city saved. Now leave the garbage disposal to the garbage man and head off to your princess like castle, will you, nya?»

That casual stance, the relaxed shoulders and that smug grin plastered on his face gave out the fact that he was likely used to putting up a poker face in most situations, a thing befitting to his claim of being a „professional“. Obviously there was no use in asking him who he was or what side he was aligned with, however that shouldn’t matter. That young man was fully aware of today’s events as well as the only one capable of offering a solution for the girl’s garbage issue.

«It’s a shame that we did have to rely on Kami-yan that much, but I guess that man takes some enjoyment from testing his assets...»

That last part was likely spoken to himself. That boy simply had proceeded forwards, not even expecting his company’s reply or decision, already eying the baggage he would have to take care of.

Doing the dirty work in the background in order for the heroes to shine had been his job all along, after all.

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