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Kouji let loose a long breath, he could hear the pain there, but it was not another thing he could just punch. His first instinct to rush into that hell had been abated, because that was the sad truth of the whole of it.
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It wasn’t real, but yet.
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”Dottie huh? She sure sounds like a hell of a kid, I’d have been proud too.” Not that he expected anything less of that kind of parentage, being raised by Temp and Cil was going to create a child like that. He even let a small smile begin to grow on his face right before the question was posed to him, his expression fell, replaced by a rictus of anger.
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”Can’t say there was much of one, spent half the time in a torture dungeon, by the end of it, I lost an eye, one of my legs was useless, and even the air touching my skin felt like I was on fire.” Quite simply, he had been torn down, and he spent the last five years trying to build himself back into a shadow of his older self.
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”Formed a criminal group, and guess the ol’ kings didn’t like that much, funny how rockets forget their core, ain’t it?” It was a voice that dripped with venom before he reeled it in.
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"Others had it worse, I just had fuel added to my engine." Whether that was the good kind of fuel, well that was best left to the future.

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RKS, the simulated realm, his last two round in it were strange, and he was expecting it otbe so again. In part, that was why he was so glad to be going in with Naomi Sato, head scientist, someone smart. Not just in the tactical sense, but in the actual booksmart sense, even after that dream, and a couple rounds in this world, well, he wasn’t any more comfortable with those kinds of matters.
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As the simulation began to unfold in full, once more right into the fray of things, the woman who stood across from them; the white hair, the pitch black clothing, and the sheer numbers. They were outnumbered, and only given a singular choice to make.
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Join, or be destroyed was it?
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”Sorry, I’d rather die than give up on Rocket, what do you think, Sato?” He asked with a slight raise of his eyebrow, it was just a simulation, but the sentiment in his words were true.

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[attr="class","itemcolname"]drk triad event

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[attr="class","itemcoltexttit"]HEXENZIRKEL 1

[attr="class","itemcoltext"]A white-haired lady sits across from you, her hair a sheer white in stark contrast to the absolute black fabric of her clothes. Her aged face and tired gaze falls upon you, though shadows obscure much of her looks.[break][break]

"stumbled upon the hexenzirkel, have you? are you in the right place?"[break][break]

She has company. You're outnumbered.

Shred[break][break]

NOTES

-Post Post-Dormitum

MADE BY GUNSMILE

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It was a haze, he could see the reflection in the pieces of steel, that person that stared back at him, the golden glint distracted him; eyes lacking lustre, two of them, not the one he had gotten used to staring at.
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He felt the shifting of weight, but his eyes weren’t on the person, Eris, below him, but on the him that stared back from the shattered violent mirror, at the disappointment that stared at him, at the momentary loss.
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After this long, had he really not changed?
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Did it even matter?
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As hands wrapped around his neck, squeezed so tightly, the only thing he could think was that those hands were awfully small. Tiny even, hands that he couldn’t still, a life he couldn’t take. He had failed at killing another traitor because of his own feelings, feelings he couldn’t rid himself off, that he couldn’t cut from himself. He couldn’t be the perfect soldier.
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So was there really any point in him still sticking around? Did they need him? He felt the fight drain out of him as the air began to empty from his lungs, as his body began to scream for oxygen, Kouji’s mind slowly began to accept these events.
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He had a second chance, he had lived twenty years in a hell, and yet he was still the same person.

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He gripped the blade tightly in his hand, the handle of the knife dug into his skin; his arm began to shake; his elbow creaked with every inch of movement. He felt her fighting back against him, he knew he could end up being pushed off.
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But he pushed back; it bought time, which had been his ally earlier in his engagement had now become his tormentor. It was a swirling whirlwind which had begun from the depths of his mind, in a tense battle such as this, he could he find a moment, and in a rush such as this, each moment might as well have been a topaz, each second was a ruby, every bit of time was a precious jewel known as thought. The lustre of which was a possibility, a different future he could have imagined, a different outcome; yet he crushed that into dust. He shut out the world, it rapidly faded and the external world ceased to exist. He resolved himself for what he needed to do.
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Amidst the silence of his mind, the only thing he could hear was the beating in his ears, the rushing of blood, the pace of his breathing. This building cacophony of turmoil began anew, the cadence of which grew more and more. He raised the glinting knife into the air. The scant sounds that existed at the edge of his periphery turned silent, the world began to hold its breath for a moment, as if mourning the impending tragedy. His muscles grew tense, his arm grew heavy, and his eyes locked onto her.
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It all built into the very moment he had tried to avoid this whole time, he had to do this, he had taken it into his own hands. It was a weight had chosen to bore, even if it caused his knees to quake, his shoulders to tumble, his back to creak. ”Maybe…You’ll find peace in the next life.” It was a somber tone, a voice that cracked, and that crack was the first crack in his resolve.
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He brought the knife down.
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A heavy sound, steel meeting cement, tarmac; it resounded in a high pitched screech before cracks echoed in that hallway, a moment that should have been a fraction of a second felt far far longer. And then it shattered, the knife of his broke into pieces, blood dripped down the now empty handle.
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Kouji Matsubara…
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Couldn’t do it, he failed to do it, he had denied it this entire time.
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He couldn’t kill Eris Halla.

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The sensation of bones being crushed beneath his feet, the feeling of bones pressing against the bottom of his foot, it was something that usually brought joy, the joy of a certain victory, and yet he struggled to hide the flinch.
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It was a disgusting feeling, it echoed through him, it felt like an ichor that built up within his stomach, and grew with the moment, as she tried to jump past him, he jumped past her; towards his knife, grabbing it tightly before he jumped at Eris; with all of his weight.
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There was a small grimace, as an acrid feeling built up in his mouth, he knew this sensation well, he was pretending ot not know it, but it wasn’t the first time he was in this position, pointing a knife at someone h-
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”It’s over.”
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But the question was for who? He gripped his knife tighter, as if the feeling of the handle would bring succor.

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[attr="class","text"]Kouji liked to think that he was in good with Cillian, but considering their first meeting, he couldn’t really be sure. He respected the underboss, he thought highly of the man, just as he did of all the Kanto veterans.
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But today, he might’ve been testing the waters far too deeply, he had poked at it briefly before, but this was a hail mary if he had ever gone for one, especially in the sub, especially in the training area.
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Well, if all went awry, he could simply offer his head, that was an option available for him. But he didn’t want to die so soon after getting a second chance at life, he wouldn’t waste this one, and that meant taking risks.
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He didn’t want to live a boring life, and his goals couldn’t be boring ones.
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It was the exact reason he waited in this hallway, it was an organisation that was bigger than just him, so many people who’d like to get a moment with someone of rank, but he wouldn’t rush, and wait. His back was to the wall of the hallway, waiting for the person he wanted to see.
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”Underboss Quinn.” Even, measured, lacking any real excitement, it wasn’t the informal Cil he had grown to use. ”I have something I wish to talk to you about, do you have a moment?”

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Kouji didn’t mind working security, not really; it was a cush job, he stood around, had his thoughts to himself, and occasionally got to beat someone up for being too unruly. Considering his history, he didn’t really have a chance with more reputable places, but somewhere a little shady like this?
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They put the bread on his table whenever things got a little quiet. He did owe a little to Amor for his instruction that one time, it helped a lot; but since coming back from that dream he had no interest in talking to most of the people from Hammerlocke.
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Yet, there’s been a problem; a thief in the night, a pokemon that’s been muscling its way past the other guard and making its way into the pokemon pile. ”Guess that Ranger should be here around now.” He said as he finished his lap around the back and came around to the front.
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”Hey, you’re the one that’s here for the pokemon problem, yeah? Name’s Kou, I’m the security on shift right now. The owner’s too scared to show up after he got messed up the other day.”

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