Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Good. Now keep roleplaying like that xd I'll never boot anyone that doesn't roleplay well. Hmm...I should define that...))

The Foreman continued running towards the Ico fortress. Various Ico members stared at him as he raced past them. The entrance towered over his head. The great double doors revealed the fancy interior. As his right foot stepped on the marble floor, about twenty guards approached him, armed with swords, daggers, and shields. "Halt!" one ordered. "State your business!" The Foreman frantically stared at all of them. "Have you guys gone nuts? Why are you in my way? I need to see the Leader!" He stepped forward, but was met with blades aimed at his neck. "You're not going to see the Leader." The Foreman's stared met the eyes of the hostile guards. "Why...not?" he growled. The guard in front of him grinned. "Why? Because…your time is up!"

The guard made a stabbing motion towards his stomach with his sword. The Foreman ducked, knelt backwards, and disarmed him with a kick of his right foot. The surrounding soldiers drew back, afraid of the blade that flailed dangerous above their heads. As they raised their shields, the Foreman made a backward somersault and stood up, kicking the guard behind him in the stomach. He flew past the double doors, outside where he clutched his belly in agony. Two blades sliced at him, but he bent down to sweepkick both of guards. They lost their balance and landed on their backs. The last thing each of them saw was the Foreman, wielding two of their longswords, plunging the blades into their throats. He turned around and nearly flinched upon seeing more attacks raining themselves upon him. Sharp edges swiped at him from all directions, and he was outnumbered, seventeen to one. Using his stolen swords, he blocked the attacks as they came. Undetected, three slices cut his torso, chest, and right arm. Screaming, he stumbled backwards and fell to the floor on his behind. All the attacks came at once. With one lucky swipe of his right arm, he cut their hands, causing them to drop their weapons. Again he attacked, this time severing each of their legs. They screamed and crashed to the floor. Their cries echoed throughout the fortress. The Foreman quickly recovered and, in a brief motion, beheaded sixteen of them, sparing the last one at his right. “Aaaaahhh!!!” he screamed, hoping that someone would rescue him. The sound of heavy footsteps filled the room. “Crap,” whispered the Foreman, as he aimed a slash at his stomach. Bloody organs and intestines spewed forth from the corpse, filling the air with the stench of death.

Swarms of soldiers approached the scene. “Kill him!” cried one of them. They all proceeded to charge when an order interrupted them. “Stop!” Everyone’s eyes peeled to the stairs. The Leader, dressed in black garments, calmly descended the stairs. The Foreman’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “I knew that I would see you again.” He fumed, “Why did you let it go? What the hell’s wrong with you?” The Leader smiled and replied, “It wasn’t ready. Greater disasters are bound to be unleashed in the most improbable of hypotheses.” The Foreman’s grip on his swords tightened. The Leader motioned to his guards, and they stepped back.

“What kind of a monster did you nurture during this whole time? A killing machine? Prepare to die!” The Foreman charged, brandishing his swords. He brought down his blade toward his head, attempting to split him into half lengthwise. The Leader calmly sidestepped the attack and kicked the sword out of his hands. The blade soared into the sky and, with a clank, embedded itself into the ceiling. He laughed out loud. “You want to fight, eh? Fine. You with weapons and me with none. We’ll really see who is the greater of us. I’m always fair in a duel.” The Foreman switched his weapon from his left to his right hand. Screaming, he sliced at his throat with a horizontal attack. The Leader ducked and brought his fist straight towards his hand, knocking his other sword onto the floor. A nearby soldier confiscated it. “I don’t need weapons to fight, unlike other people…silly Architect. True power rests in ones own ability.” The Foreman made a roundhouse. His foot was caught with a firm grip. The hands twisted it with a flick of a wrist. The Foreman’s piercing scream caused several soldiers to cover their ears. He lost his balance and tripped onto the floor, grabbing his right foot. “Stupid mistakes, leaving yourself open to attack. You didn’t get any better from the last time I fought you. Now, you pay the price: death.” He seized his by the shoulders and hauled him up. The Foreman struggled against his grip. “Pathetic,” he whispered. He lifted him off the floor with ease, carried him on his shoulders, and grabbed his feet. Then, he slammed him down on the floor. The rear of the Foreman’s head cracked and blood leaked out, staining the white marble floor. “Pathetic,” he repeated.

She gave her husband a weak smile and held onto his hand tightly. It took her a while to find her voice, and when she did, it was in a whisper. "I'm feeling a bit better...just really tired..." She gave him a soft smile, her golden gaze never leaving his crimson one.

Stepping atop his castle, whilst the northern winds blew, Zersilo gathered energy on his staff. This location had been specifically chosen for two reasons. Strategically it was on a hill, with a small mountain behind it. Inside the mountain there had been found a great quantity of gold. The gold would provide the necessary funds to buy more land off the feudal lords, the clans would still be competing for power, and more money meant better weapons armour, and in exchange, Zersilo would have his land protected and his actions would go unquestioned. His brother, Banji would have prefferred the humans to wage war upon them, but he was a war-monger, and enjoyed the heat of battle.

"I'm thirsty....could I have some water please? I...I dont want to be so much trouble to you..." She closed her golden eyes again, sighing softly. Truthfully, she felt completely useless to anyone and like she was too much for anyone to handle. Never had she been so sick so many consecutive times...she'd been ill ever since she nearly died. Her head tilted back slightly, her breathing becoming irregular as she laid there.

Wandering the dream plains, Matsu noticed a few other beings here and there. One of the most prominent these days was the Night mare. These ethreal beings entered into people's minds in times of stress, and had great potential to scare someone into doing something, but they couldn't be harnested as the duty of a nightmare was to provide a warning.
Sighing, Matsu stepped down into the Netherworld, where it was always interesting to commute with fellow demons. It was perhaps fate which drew Matsu to the chambered minds of Rin, wife of Kyo of the netherworld. Smiling, Matsu entered her consciousness, she was sick to be sure, and she needed something, but most of her mind was a little blurry, and clear picture's couldn't be made, save for her love for Kyo, a powerful love it was, but yet it couldn't save her by itself.

There was little Matsu could do for Rin while she remained in the netherworld. They certainly had good doctors, but some problems couldn't be taken care of like that. The mind and the body had to work together in order for things to be effective. The problem was that while Matsu could help her, he couldn't in the underworld, not completely anyways. The world below lacked some of the elements that the one above it had. One being humans, their minds provided an interesting resource.

"Hello Rin" Matsu said gently.

When she heard Matsu's voice in her head, she tensed up in Kyo's arms, not really recognizing who it was. She tried to respond, however, the connection was cut when she started going into convulsions. Her breathing stopped as she glew in a pure white aura, which soon turned black. Something round and black, surrounded with the same aura, tore itself from her body, some sort of spirit possession. Sprouts of white light exploded through the room, an image of Rin and Tahaya's mother appeared, dressed in white with silver armor. Looking down upon her daughter and her son-in-law, nodded to Kyo with a smile and vanished, the possessive spirit exploding. The angelic form almost lingered a bit after, but when it was completely gone, Rin lay in Kyo's arms with her head resting back on his arms...her breathing stopped.