Angry Lead Skies

[Water Sleeps]

A pair of hard, leather boots followed each other's rythmic marching, splashing through the mud and water. They were well-worn and having evidently seen better days. They knew the drill. One foot after the other, like they followed an invisible parade only their wearer could see. After coutlness marches through all manners of terrain, from harsh mountains to knee-high rivers, it came natural to Deimos. He always walked in step, like following a well-drilled column of soldiers heading off to die somewhere, for someone.

The uneven dirt road had half-flooded in the heavy rains, creating small pools of mud in most places. The leather was hard and boiled enough not to get soaked, but it was quite irritating. Whenever he accidentaly stepped into a water-filled, small hole, the impact of his sole made the filthy liquid jump up as high as his chest. His studded armour, made of leather as well, showed a few dark spots in some places where the water had landed.

But the rain was the worse. He had sold his cloak to buy some food at the last village he had visited, so now he had no hood to protect his head from the pouring rain. His long black hair was stiched to his pale, bored face as he continued walking. There was no thunder. Just grey clouds and endless rain, as if heaven had openned up and a legion of angels was taking a piss.

His senses and awareness had fallen to a minimum as boredom and misery settled in. How more 'till the next town or village? He had no money left though. If the innkeeper he found was too stingy to let him under his roof for free, he'd take what he needed at sword-point. Or just burn his insides out, only to let off steam.

The rain was getting on his nerves.

The plains changed to hills as he kept moving, the road travelling between them like a snake. A wet, watery, muddy, holed snake. Whoever enginnered this path was either blind or spiteful to all travelers. It could not be explained otherwise. The walls of a keep under siege had less holes than this parody of a road.

He started humming a song to pass the time. How longer?

[由 Yuna 奈]

((Hope you don't mind my joining. ^^))

The sun was shining, for once. It had been cloudy for days now, bringing Arisu's already naturally mellow spirits down even further. Although... it smelled like it had rained very recently. The ground on this road was testament enough to that. The yourouzoku wrinkled her delicate nose a bit, her lips curling into a grimace. It was so muddy... disgusting. She really hated the mud. Dodging a puddle she failed to notice another a foot ahead, and stepped right in it. Her foot sank a few inches, her short leather boot getting covered in the brown substance.

She really, really, really hated mud. "Shimatta," she muttered to herself, the curse barely above a whisper. She was really having bad luck thus far into her journey out of the Southern Lands. She had no idea when she left the lands she had known her entire life that she would be faced with one trouble after another. And unfortunately, mud.

Of course it did rain in the South as well, but never so endlessly as it did here. The season of Spring may be for mating and for growing, and much to Arisu's dismay, apparently also raining. Letting out a silent sigh the young youkai woman removed her foot from the offending muck and placed it on more stable ground -- such as it was. Not much of this road actually appeared very stable at all. Frowning slightly she proceeded to examine her appendage with much care. She really wanted to get the mud off of her boot, but...

Looking around she didn't exactly see a good spot to do so. Perhaps on the grass, but... Arisu shook her head. No, that would never work. The grass may remove some of the dirt, but not nearly enough for her liking. She would just have to leave it until she found a river, or some other source of water. She could then wash her footwear until it held no trace of the muck. She would have to wait until she was long gone from this accursed mud-hole though, for if she stepped back on it after washing her foot, here work would only end up in vain.

Sighing again Arisu started to walk once more, her nose twitching slightly as she smelled the presence of another. Taking a deep whiff of the air she tried to determine the origin. Ahead of her, perhaps fifty yard, just around the upcoming hill. But with all of the dirt clinging to the air, she couldn't smell much else, except... Whirling around she narrowed her eyes to glare off into the distance. Fast approaching her was a wild boar, obviously starved into madness.

In one fluid motion she removed her yumi from her back and notched an arrow to the weapon. She aimed and fired, wincing when the boar managed to dodge just in the nick of time. She was in the process of notching another arrow when it lunged at her, forcing her to jump out of the way. The boar snarled, grunting angrily. Foam flew from the corners of its mouth as it shock its head from side to side. Arisu grimaced. It wasn't starved, she realized. It was a rabid animal. "Kuso."

As it lunged again she blocked the strike with her steel bow. She then proceeded to swing at it again, knocking it back a few feet. Unsheathing one of her dual wakazashi she stabbed the blade with absolute deftness into the forehead of the boar, killing it. As it died it let out a howl of agony before falling to breathe no more. Arisu sheathed her weapon and placed her bow on her back once more, noticing in dismay that she was now covered in mud. Turning, she looked over at the hill where she had smelled someone. There was no way they would have not been able to hear the noise of the boar. She just hoped that they would ignore it.

[都Tsuzuki筑]

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K[/size]ipputyttö would have,
could have quite enjoyed the
dark quiet of the falling rain,
if only she didn't have to be
out in it.

H[/size]er blonde hair plastered
to her face, and the ground
here was usually so frozen
it retained close to no water--
leaving puddles everywhere
and what little dirt could
absorb it a muddy mess.

S[/size]he shouldn't have to be
subjected to this, to the
elements, like a mere
mortal. A few
hundred years ago,
she and her sisters were
living the way goddesses
should... until that little
plague incident, that got
her thrown out-- as if
it were all her fault!
Kivutar, Vammatar,
Loviatar, her darling
sisters, the damned
bitches who blamed it all
on her. But, the eldest is
always forced to take
responsibility for that
unspoken code exists
among immortals as well.

T[/size]hinking about Tuonela
made her homesick-- her
own personal hell, basically.
And the weather wasn't always
too different from this, only
then she had a palace fit for a
queen to hide herself in during
such storms-- as pretty as it
all may look, the accompanying
muck was not a favorite of hers.

H[/size]er mind was wrenched from her
thoughts by a loud splash, followed
by a rather unladylike squeal,
then a huff.Having not been
paying attention to where she was
going, Kipputyttö managed to step
directly into a rather deep puddle,
submerging her boot up to the ankle,
while the sole sankinto it's
muddy bottom... not a pleasant
feeling.

S[/size]he narrowed her eyes and glared at the
ground. Unfortunately, even when
she had the whole of her powers, they
old covered living things. You couldn't
kill water. Or make it sick. Though, she
potentially could poison it to cause
illness... but that wasn't going to earn her
any forgiveness upstairs for what she
had done before.

T[/size]he further she walked, the worse
the condition of the road seemed to
become... and it crossed her mind
briefly to start heading back the
way she came, and pick out a new
dryer route.

B[/size]ut then she saw a figure in the
distance-- probably a man, from
the looks of him, though around
here one could never be sure if
such were humans, demons, or
even a little of both... though she
had yet to encounter such creatures,
she had heard rumors of the existence
of... oh, what did they call them around
here, damn this language... han-jo?

L[/size]etting a very Cheshire grin creep
across her face, Kipp made her
best attempt and fixing her hair
and skirt, already plotting...

A[/size]gain, a noise drew her from her
thoughts-- this time a squealing scream,
far too feral to be made by any human.
A demon, possibly. But it sounded very
animal from where she was standing.
Smile faltering, it was curiosity that spurred
her forward now.

S[/size]o, maybe she wasn't quite so immortal
anymore... another term of her punishment.
She was hard, very hard to kill. You
could injure her, but she could still heal
almost anything... except having her head
taken off. And it would be quite an embarrassment
to her family if she got herself decapitated by
some wild animal out here. Almost as bad as
if she were killed by a human.

J[/size]ust as a precaution, she started humming
to herself... aside from the whole spreading
disease and pestilence thing, which most
of her powers over had been revoked at
the moment, the one thing left for her
was her ability to sing the ill and dying to
'sleep'... though sick and near death wasn't
exactly a requirement for one to become a
target anymore.

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[Water Sleeps]

He hummed an old war march, tapping hands on his waist as the rythm settled in for good and he could do nothing else. It reminded him of old, better days. Not good ones, but better than what he had now. The company, four hundred strong at the time, had passed through the east, carving with sword, pike and dagger a brand new bloody reputation, becoming more infamous than it had in the west. The hardships were great, but the rewards even greater. How many women cursed his name for all the sons, husbands, fathers and brothers he had taken from them? How many preferred to fall upon their own sword and die rather than risk being taken prisoner by the Company and be impaled or crucified? What lord didn't try to hire them with promises of riches and recruits? How many of those had survived their deals?

But all that dark glory was gone. The Company was no more, the men's heads now decorating some demon's castle walls and their corpses left for the crows. Deimos' and his late brothers had shown no mercy. And no mercy had been shown to them. Now, a lone survivor stricken by povertry but with his ambitions still intact, he travelled flooded, muddy parodies of roads such as this and sang of his glory days. It wasn't as if he would get old. He had centuries, maybe even millenias to make his dream flesh. Then why did he feel so bloody old, like some veteran turned beggar?

An animal scream interrupted his thoughts. All the dwellings in the past of the mind dissapeared like smoke. Suspicion, survival and, of course, his paranoia took over. God's breath, this place never rests. He approached the source of the scream with caution, the words of a spell coming to his mind. One thing life had taught him was that it pays off to come prepared. You don't go naked to the cucumbers, as a saying went. Who knows, he thought as he ascended upon a hill, maybe a whole troop of spears will be waiting for me over that hill

Instead, he found a woman covered in mud, holding a short, oriental blade in each hand. Unwillingly, he relaxed. She didn't look like much of a serious threat. No ten foot tall, 500 pounded horned moster ready to sprout it's wings and fly to devour him. Living on the edge for so many years, he always expected the worst, even by ridiculously paranoic standards. It was a major setback most of the time, but he wouldn't be there laughing about it right now if he didn't have it.

He descended down the hill, his eyes fixed on the woman. He raised his left hand for her to see it. "Everything alright over there?" he asked her. After half a week alone on foot through miserable weather he sought some conversation and company, no matter how bad. Better than to start chatting with himself.

That way lies madness.