Life, Supernatural
By a happy turn of fate, Fubuki stepped down from her meeting with Mōri Motonari at about the same time Maxim and Evaine approached with their new companion. The Unnatural Oni wore the slumped shoulders and stooped posture of an angsty, defeated teenager. It seemed that Maxim intended to take their new acquaintance with them on their mission to return the Eerie Tree to its rightful owner. As the misfit group prepared to depart, however, they were interrupted yet again. Watanabe Hajime, that pale, crystallized oni who had given Fubuki her* Hannya Vizard, floated down to Maxim and favored him with a cool glare. Where, she wanted to know, had she found this lanky oni boy? That line of questioning came as a bit of a surprise to Maxim, who demanded in turn to know what she had to do with him. According to Hajime, the boy's "rehabilitation" was not complete, whatever that meant. If not returned to the care of the Hannya Sūhai, he would not be able to speak again. Something clicked in Fubuki's head and she* turned her attention to the laconic boy's aura. There was something familiar about it, something she* was nearly certain she'd* seen somewhere-
Fubuki paused in her musings to brush away a wisp of multicolored smoke that had floated up below her* nose. She* instead remarked that Lord Maxim, indeed, had also been without his voice not long ago. The boy in question was up to his bony knees in a dilemma. He looked first to Hajime, then to Maxim, then back again. Then, without a sound, he bolted. Maxim was ready this time and grabbed the lad by his arm as he sped past. Yanked back and held fast, the oni boy could only slump his shoulders once again. That, at least, was answer enough for Maxim. His new charge didn't want to go back to whatever the "Sūhai" might be. A bit of irritation danced around Hajime's otherwise cold eyes, but she let the matter drop. It was not their way, she stated, to force others into captivity. As though washing her hands of the matter, she flicked her fingers, disturbing another few puffs of the strange multicolored smoke. As Hajime floated away, the remaining generals' attention was drawn toward that strange fog puffing up from below. Closer inspection revealed its source to be a solid stone corner where three planes met at the base of a nearby bench. Inexplicably, this solid, opaque angle was puffing out bits of multicolored smoke and... something else. Maxim was left unsure whether anyone else had seen it, but he spotted a thin, questing appendage amongst the mist. Like a red tendril, it pushed itself from the point where the three surfaces met and tasted the air. Fubuki spoke aloud, demanding to know what the presence was and what it wanted with them, but no response came. No response came, but her* innate ability to sense chaos, so bestowed by Amatsu-Mikaboshi, started to scream in alarm about that corner. Acting on instinct, Maxim reached out and pushed Fubuki bodily with both arms. The cold-eyed oni stumbled back just in time to avoid what happened next. Bursting through a much-too-small space, some enormous, eight-foot clawed thing raked and stabbed at the air where Fubuki had been just before. A few points about this creature stood out in stark relief. Its wicked claws, twisting red tongue, pallid skin, and jagged teeth beneath eyeless sockets all competed for attention. Everything else about it seemed to be strangely immaterial, twisting and turning, dissolving into acrid puffs of that multicolored smoke and back again. Although like nothing they had ever seen before, one thing was clear: this was an enemy. Maxim, Fubuki, Evaine, and the Unnatural Oni all prepared for imminent combat. Although its ambush had failed thanks to Maxim's quick thinking, the creature still seemed to focus all its ferocity upon Fubuki. It slashed out twice with its claws, but failed to pierce the swordswoman's* guard. Steel clashed with hardened flesh as Susuki Masamune parried both its attacks. Taira no Tokuko and Aka no Kitsunebi, still nearby from their exchange with Aotsuki Tsukamoto, joined the fray now. Tokuko held Karasuhebimaru firmly in her hand and swung it down upon the creature with a samurai's precision. The accursed sword appeared to twist somehow, its snake motif seeming to slither as it passed through unnatural angles and spaces. When it came out on the other side, both the weapon and its target where wholly unharmed. Somehow, this thing's very nature seemed to make it impossible to reach with melee weapons. Fortunately, Aka no Kitsunebi was beheld to no such restrictions. She gathered her concentration and formed a pinprick of light above her fox's mask. The particle's intensity increased geometrically until it was a powerful, sustained laser, blasting away at the monster. This, too, proved to be ineffective. The line of light diminished, turned, and appeared caught in a labyrinth of harsh angles suspended in the air before vanishing completely. It seemed that opposing this beast would be no simple feat. Cunningly, Fubuki attempted to memorize the angles she'd* seen in the laser's maze, but the heat of battle and eye-watering field around the monster were too much to take an accurate measure. At this time, they could only hold out until someone with better grounding in mathematics could arrive. Fortunately, Aka no Kitsunebi was here, and that meant that Kan Shōjo could not be far off. Maxim saw the angles as well and came to a similar conclusion. The key to defeating this thing might lay in the bizarre geometry it surrounded itself with. He experimented with Hokkuken, exploiting his position behind the monster to cut first straight downward, then diagonally to the right, and at an angle to the left. All three merely warped and passed through his target without success. If there was any bright side to be seen, it was that the monster seemed locked completely on Fubuki to the exclusion of all else. It made no attempt to even counter Maxim's strikes. The Knight Commander's new companion watched this battle, eyes expressionless behind his Hannya mask. He reached into that absurd yellow jacket and came out with his ultimate weapon: a live, muzzled snake. Unclasping the restraint with a click, he threw the angry reptile with all his might at Fubuki's aggressor. The snake tensed in the air, rearing back to bite into the pallid flesh rapidly approaching it. Once it drew closer, however, the serpent's writhing halted. It seemed to collapse in on itself as its scales turned grey, then fell away, revealing only bone. Once the snake's eye-watering journey was over, it was no more than a puff of dust on the wind. Fubuki understood what happened all too well. The poor animal had been unnaturally aged to death. Having seen the whole process unfold, the Unnatural Oni might not have enjoyed such a grasp on the specifics, but the general idea was clear enough even to him. He bolted. This time, Maxim was too engaged to catch him, and the lanky boy vanished back into the tunnels beneath the arena. As the extraplanar monster reared back for another strike, Maxim recommended that they may want to consider retreat. By that time, however, Kan Shōjo had arrived and the rest of those occupants in the arena were beginning to take note. As the monster swarmed onto Fubuki's body, plunging its barbed tongue through her* armor and into the flesh beneath, she* managed at the same time to call out to Kan Shōjo about their situation. The Avatar of Tenman Tenjin was happy to oblige. In a cool, mildly curious voice, she identified the creature as a Hound of Tindalos. While Fubuki batted the monster away, teleported to safety, and clamped down on the coldness spreading through her* shoulder, Kan Shōjo had the gall to ask if she'd* been messing around with time lately. Fubuki couldn't really deny that, however. Just that morning she* had reversed time in order to raise Aotsuki Tsukamoto back to personhood after he'd tragically become a vegetable. That action, it seemed, had called this creature to her*. They lived somewhere beyond time, or perhaps at the end of time, Kan Shōjo explained, and hunted creatures that created disturbances in the temporal flow. Any time someone cast a Time spell or traveled to a different age, they risked drawing the attention of these indefatigable hunters. Fubuki waved the coming lecture aside. More important at this moment was figuring out how to get rid of it. To that, Kan Shōjo had to admit that she didn't know. All scholars who had attempted to study the Hounds of Tindalos seemed to inevitably have their work cut deathly short. She was able to provide a helpful quote from a Dreamer who had written on the subject:
"Beyond life there are things that I cannot distinguish. They move slowly through angles. They have no bodies, and they move slowly through outrageous angles...God, they are breaking through! They are breaking through! Smoke is pouring in from the corners of the wall. Their tongues—ahhh—" -Frank Belknap LongBy this point, the few remaining priests of Sancta Sedes had joined the fray. This was unlike any devil which Zōta had ever seen, but he resolved to use the force of his Haka to keep it at bay while Francine Xavier spoke a prayer to the Lord. Given how much prayer had helped their deaconess in her fight against Maxim, this approach seemed dubious. Fubuki's idea about angles, perhaps, would hold more water. Kan Shōjo continued to ramble while Fubuki conjured a splash of water up around the creature. In hopes that it might accomplish something, she* inundated each of the billowing, multicolored smoke clouds with liquid. This only resulted, however, in the water fogging up uselessly. Meanwhile, the Avatar of Knowledge was explaining that, if humans can be said to live on the "curves" of time, then Hounds live in the "angles." By striking at a particular angle, or bending a weapon to it, they might be able to reach across to the end of time, or wherever these things were coming from. The problem therein was that they still didn't understand the precise angle that might be needed. Kan Shōjo certainly would, but her weak, scholarly eyes had trouble following the action. They would have to work together and experiment. At the same time, Shōta, the very antithesis of working together, had spotted their tussle up in the northern stands. For a moment it seemed as though he would do something, but he merely gave an exaggerated yawn and took his Shimazu companions out of the area. Standing just above the Hound of Tindalos now, Maxim exercised a stroke of mild genius. Gathering ki into his boot, he smashed a portion of the stone stands beneath his feet. Commanding the now-ki-infused shards of stone, he batted them into orbit around the Hound, then shot them at the thing in every direction. A majority of the stones vanished, turned to sand, or simply passed through, but they all witnessed something unusual. The Hound of Tindalos dodged. It had felt some instinctual need to avoid one of the stones, which had passed through the creature's aura at an angle which allowed ingress. Fubuki, Maxim, and Kan Shōjo immediately put their minds to figuring out that stone's trajectory. Together, they were able to come up with a number, a precise angle: 120°. Kan Shōjo shouted the number as Fubuki sent Susuki Masamune sailing at the Hound. This would be it, the cut which determined whether they would be able to fight this creature on any realistic terms. Before Fubuki's custom sword arrived at its target, however, it bumped into an invisible barrier and skittered away. Fubuki squinted. Looking through the eyeholes of her* Hannya Vizard, she* could just see the glimmering outline of a Containment hovering in a cube around the Hound. Whoever cast it must have been extremely skilled, as even with her* own considerable ability, Fubuki could only barely discern it. Her* mind went to Shōta, or rather, the soul of Dōhan who inhabited Shōta's body. Had his yawn been more than just a lazy, boorish gesture? Regardless, Fubuki could not reach the creature to test their theory. It, too, appeared trapped. Darting at its prey, the Hound slammed into an invisible wall and scrabbled at it with both claws. All who remained watched as it searched for an exit. Finding none, it crawled into a corner of the invisible cube and compressed, shunting itself through an impossible angle with a gout of smoke before vanishing entirely. All that remained within the cube was now a plume of multicolored fog, showing its confines clearly to even those without mystic sight. The creature had gotten away, but with Fubuki as its prey, it would no doubt be back. Kan Shōjo, at least, remained optimistic. She entreated Fubuki to call her if it ever returned; she still wanted to see if the theory they'd come up with worked in practice.