- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- High Fantasy (things dealing with magical worlds, often with multiple races think final fantasy and its many varying incarnations), Dark Fantasy (fantasy dealing generally with darker themes such as monsters and demons), Action, Supernatural
Muramasa
The riflemen seemed to realize pretty quickly that with the shortened distance between them and the homicidal maniac who had just executed two of their men before anyone else realized what was going on, those of them who had not already reloaded their shots from the earlier volley would not be able to do so before he closed the gap between them and started picking them off. So of five men left on the rooftop two of them tossed their guns aside and drew their wakizashi, charging him while the others took aim. Muramasa's bored expression curled into a faint smile at the corner of his lips and everything became quiet for him, time slowed down, and Muramasa looked at the path that formed in front of him, the dance of death he would have to perform in order to give all these worthless maggots the beautiful death they so obviously craved. Suddenly the 'silence' was broken by a faint whistling sound Muramasa picked up coming from his side, and in the next instant a kunai came to bury itself in the leg of one of his chargers, making him miss his step and fall face-first to the ground. The gunners paused at this while the second attacker continued his charge, just for the owner of the kunai to make an entrance not dissimilar to Muramasa's own, if less beautiful. She stood in the way of the attacker and managed to push back his charge, after which she did some impressive acrobatics to end up behind him and kicked him back towards Muramasa. Not breaking his, slightly more interested now, gaze from the new arrival Muramasa side-stepped the half-tumbling, half-charging assassin who still tried to swing his sword at him. He nonchalantly spun the stolen wakizashi in a reverse grip and plunged it the assailant's back directly after having dodged him, piercing his heart while still looking at the new entrance.
She then asked him what was so special about his blade, instead of going for the still very armed and theoretically lethal four shogunate assassin in front of her, and Muramasa simply laughed.
"Hahahaha! You actually have no idea who I am. That's hilarious! As for my Nikuya no Kama, what makes it-" he suddenly interrupted himself by yanking the wakizashi out of his opponent's back, finally letting his corpse fall, and in the same fluid motion threw the blade at one of the riflemen who had been smart enough to start aiming again when he thought Muramasa was distracted, lodging it directly in his forehead and causing him to stagger backwards, falling off the roof and into the street below. As the remaining assassins turned their heads to see yet another man fall to the mad smith, Muramasa kicked the rifle of the man whose throat he had slit up off the roof floor and caught it mid air. He aimed it 5 degrees to the left and 3 degrees high of one of the other shogunate assassins' heads then fired, hoping to compensate for the imbalance he could feel in the weapon which would cause the shot to go astray. He ended up getting the man in the throat instead of between the eyes as he'd intended (he knew he should have aimed higher), but it did the job and he-too toppled into the abyss.
Now only the rifleman in the middle, and the charger the new arrival had wounded with her kunai were left, and both now looked too terrified of Muramasa to react. The one who had fallen to the ground was now standing on one knee, seemingly failing to find the strength to get back to his feet. The rifleman had his iron sights trained on Muramasa, but his hands were shaking so much that he couldn't get a steady shot, he couldn't find the courage to pull the trigger. He knew, somewhere in his head, that the smith was at a disadvantage with a spent musket and a sword that probably couldn't be thrown fast enough to catch him off guard. but he felt in the pit of his stomach that pulling the musket trigger would be his death, not his target's, and for a man who thought he came to this island ready to die for the shogun gladly, he now found himself wishing for anything but dying at the hands of this pale, smiling man.
Still smiling silently, seeing the fear in the assassin's eyes, he took a step forward, causing the rifleman to try and instinctively step back, only to remember at the last minute what had just happened to the two men who had been standing at either side of him just fifteen seconds ago.
Muramasa's smile grew into a dark, sadistic grin. "Go on, take the shot. What do you have to lose?"
The assassin gulped and then remembered something important. Something about how the smith had said 'take the shot' jogged his memory. With a loud, desperate yell halfway between a roar and a terrified scream the assassin spun on his heels and looked down at the reverend below, now without body guards left to block the bullet. He drew his rifle, took aim, and felt a sharp, splitting pain crack over the back of his head, the object that had connected with that spot causing him to tumble forward, lose his balance, and careen into the void to join his comrades as a mangled corpse on the street below. While he'd never know exactly what killed him by hitting the back of his head like that, it had in truth been the musket Muramasa had not yet thrown away after firing.
Now only the wounded one was left, and he had no delusions about being able to defeat a Blade of Dominion by himself, let alone the strange back-up he brought. His pride as a servant of the shogun wouldn't let him surrender to the enemy, his fear of Muramasa made him terrified of what torture he could give to a prisoner of war, so only one logical conclusion was left.
"You rotten criminal scum." he said to both the smith and the grandmaster through gritted teeth. "If your bastard reverend cared for anyone on this island he would have died today. Now this island and everyone on it will burn! I'll see you all at the gates yami!"
With this he pulled the kunai out of his leg and stabbed himself in the throat, choosing his own death in a final moment of ultimate vainglory.
"Wow, he actually called us 'criminal scum' in his dying words." spoke Muramasa expressionlessly. "You'd swear the shogunate pays them by how utterly unimaginative they can be. Anyways," he then increased his speaking volume without bothering to turning to where he was addressing "Ladder girl, you're kind of terrible at hiding. So do something useful; grab that pouch. Go give it to the reverend." Then, after a moment. "Actually, give it to the desperate wisteria, things will probably be more interesting if she has it. At least for now."
He then turned back to the combatant who'd come to his 'aid' and smiled in a slightly less disturbing than usual manner. "So, you wanted to know about my Nikuya no Kama?"
The riflemen seemed to realize pretty quickly that with the shortened distance between them and the homicidal maniac who had just executed two of their men before anyone else realized what was going on, those of them who had not already reloaded their shots from the earlier volley would not be able to do so before he closed the gap between them and started picking them off. So of five men left on the rooftop two of them tossed their guns aside and drew their wakizashi, charging him while the others took aim. Muramasa's bored expression curled into a faint smile at the corner of his lips and everything became quiet for him, time slowed down, and Muramasa looked at the path that formed in front of him, the dance of death he would have to perform in order to give all these worthless maggots the beautiful death they so obviously craved. Suddenly the 'silence' was broken by a faint whistling sound Muramasa picked up coming from his side, and in the next instant a kunai came to bury itself in the leg of one of his chargers, making him miss his step and fall face-first to the ground. The gunners paused at this while the second attacker continued his charge, just for the owner of the kunai to make an entrance not dissimilar to Muramasa's own, if less beautiful. She stood in the way of the attacker and managed to push back his charge, after which she did some impressive acrobatics to end up behind him and kicked him back towards Muramasa. Not breaking his, slightly more interested now, gaze from the new arrival Muramasa side-stepped the half-tumbling, half-charging assassin who still tried to swing his sword at him. He nonchalantly spun the stolen wakizashi in a reverse grip and plunged it the assailant's back directly after having dodged him, piercing his heart while still looking at the new entrance.
She then asked him what was so special about his blade, instead of going for the still very armed and theoretically lethal four shogunate assassin in front of her, and Muramasa simply laughed.
"Hahahaha! You actually have no idea who I am. That's hilarious! As for my Nikuya no Kama, what makes it-" he suddenly interrupted himself by yanking the wakizashi out of his opponent's back, finally letting his corpse fall, and in the same fluid motion threw the blade at one of the riflemen who had been smart enough to start aiming again when he thought Muramasa was distracted, lodging it directly in his forehead and causing him to stagger backwards, falling off the roof and into the street below. As the remaining assassins turned their heads to see yet another man fall to the mad smith, Muramasa kicked the rifle of the man whose throat he had slit up off the roof floor and caught it mid air. He aimed it 5 degrees to the left and 3 degrees high of one of the other shogunate assassins' heads then fired, hoping to compensate for the imbalance he could feel in the weapon which would cause the shot to go astray. He ended up getting the man in the throat instead of between the eyes as he'd intended (he knew he should have aimed higher), but it did the job and he-too toppled into the abyss.
Now only the rifleman in the middle, and the charger the new arrival had wounded with her kunai were left, and both now looked too terrified of Muramasa to react. The one who had fallen to the ground was now standing on one knee, seemingly failing to find the strength to get back to his feet. The rifleman had his iron sights trained on Muramasa, but his hands were shaking so much that he couldn't get a steady shot, he couldn't find the courage to pull the trigger. He knew, somewhere in his head, that the smith was at a disadvantage with a spent musket and a sword that probably couldn't be thrown fast enough to catch him off guard. but he felt in the pit of his stomach that pulling the musket trigger would be his death, not his target's, and for a man who thought he came to this island ready to die for the shogun gladly, he now found himself wishing for anything but dying at the hands of this pale, smiling man.
Still smiling silently, seeing the fear in the assassin's eyes, he took a step forward, causing the rifleman to try and instinctively step back, only to remember at the last minute what had just happened to the two men who had been standing at either side of him just fifteen seconds ago.
Muramasa's smile grew into a dark, sadistic grin. "Go on, take the shot. What do you have to lose?"
The assassin gulped and then remembered something important. Something about how the smith had said 'take the shot' jogged his memory. With a loud, desperate yell halfway between a roar and a terrified scream the assassin spun on his heels and looked down at the reverend below, now without body guards left to block the bullet. He drew his rifle, took aim, and felt a sharp, splitting pain crack over the back of his head, the object that had connected with that spot causing him to tumble forward, lose his balance, and careen into the void to join his comrades as a mangled corpse on the street below. While he'd never know exactly what killed him by hitting the back of his head like that, it had in truth been the musket Muramasa had not yet thrown away after firing.
Now only the wounded one was left, and he had no delusions about being able to defeat a Blade of Dominion by himself, let alone the strange back-up he brought. His pride as a servant of the shogun wouldn't let him surrender to the enemy, his fear of Muramasa made him terrified of what torture he could give to a prisoner of war, so only one logical conclusion was left.
"You rotten criminal scum." he said to both the smith and the grandmaster through gritted teeth. "If your bastard reverend cared for anyone on this island he would have died today. Now this island and everyone on it will burn! I'll see you all at the gates yami!"
With this he pulled the kunai out of his leg and stabbed himself in the throat, choosing his own death in a final moment of ultimate vainglory.
"Wow, he actually called us 'criminal scum' in his dying words." spoke Muramasa expressionlessly. "You'd swear the shogunate pays them by how utterly unimaginative they can be. Anyways," he then increased his speaking volume without bothering to turning to where he was addressing "Ladder girl, you're kind of terrible at hiding. So do something useful; grab that pouch. Go give it to the reverend." Then, after a moment. "Actually, give it to the desperate wisteria, things will probably be more interesting if she has it. At least for now."
He then turned back to the combatant who'd come to his 'aid' and smiled in a slightly less disturbing than usual manner. "So, you wanted to know about my Nikuya no Kama?"
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