Cross Effects 3.0 - June 23, 2016—April 02, 2018

[Kotomine_Rin]

Lorenzo Remei

The pirate listened carefully, impressed by the man's bravery and quick thinking. What a badass, but there was just one problem. Just one particular detail that bothered him, like he was missing something essential.

"...what's a werewolf?"


Vanguard

Hmph, he disagreed to such a notion. Literature was a valuable reflection of history, a remnant of the past. If such recordings, fictional or not, were trivialized and forgotten, wouldn't yesterday become obsolete?

"Perhaps." He noted. "This city is quite dull, there is little value in a life without direction. Quantity does not equate to quality. Tell me, what does entertain you?"

[Aiden]

Mitsuba

"I guess it's fortunate it was just an interruption. This city is not to be underestimated. And please be more discreet about that next time." How headache inducing. "Anyway, I may need your help. There might be a major job to perform, but all I know about my contact is that he is a blond haired man. He didn't deign to reveal more. How annoying."

Muramasa Katase

Katase frowned at her so-called wielder's passive-aggressive scolding. Who was she to tell her what to do and then pretend to be polite about it? "I was perfectly discreet. It was everyone else who insisted on interrupting me and creating trouble."

Well, at least the creature calling itself Mitsuba had a task worth doing this time. Katase wouldn't turn down the opportunity for another murder today. "In any case... when will we be going to this meeting?"

[yinsukin]

Joe

Wow really?  Like werewolf rabies?

Joe sucked his teeth in nervousness.  "Y..yeah.  Its been years since then, so it shrank."  He said with a shaky voice.  He turned around and lifted up his shirt, revealing a few large hole marks on his back.

As he waited for Rin to check the scar, he turned to the pirate.  "A werewolf is a part man, part wolf creature.  There are many different types in this city.  They say most are hostile and feed on humans,"  He said casually.

Ugh I hope she is into scars.  He thought to himself.

[Kotomine_Rin]

RED

"Eh?" She wondered what the doggie meant to do. Could it be there was food behind that door? She nodded and the door clicked from inside, as if some invisible force slipped through the keyhole and unlocked it from the other side.

"Let's go!"

[Umbra of Chaos]

Oren

With that click as her signal she raised a limb and opened the door. Seemingly empty, the Lycan just walked on in and honed on the fridge. With a grunt of effort it stood up and ripped the door of it right off and settled down before glancing at her passenger. She had her own part to do!


Meti

In truth, the bar was more of a tavern. With a katana sheathed at and her cart parked outside the dark haired girl moseyed on in and simply stood and watched. A few people pushed on past her but she really didn't mind. She was on the lookout for... that!

There. A few men and women. Arguing. Getting rowdy. Tension drained out of her body at the sight and she got closer to them.

One of them threw a fist. Her shoulders relaxed. Then with one smooth action Meti unsheathed her sword. A head hit the ground with a spurt of blood. There was screaming and yelling, people got out of their seats and approached the situation, and the formerly arguing drunkards around her suddenly drew their weapons.

She smiled.

Knives and blades were sliced in halves along with their owners. A gun was drawn, but he was too close. Her blade flashed out and divided the weapon into thee parts before cutting him in two vertically. She leaped over a fireball that crashed into a women with gloved hands and scalped the mage with a flick of her sword before decapitating her.

Eventually, all that was left of anyone who fought her was scattered body parts and blood. With the eyes of everyone around her now on her the master of the sword met their gaze and sheathed her blade. Then she gathered up the remnants of the meals that the group had been eating, food that had been left untouched by the blood, and packed it all up into a bag.

Then, cheerily, she walked up to the bartender and bowed her head. "Sorry for the mess!" She stood up straight again.

"I don't have money to pay you for it, so instead I'll leave you with one of my family's proverbs. If you meet a god on the road, kill him." Then with a jaunty air about her and blood soaked clothes she walked out and got back to her cart. Then she took a seat by it on the sidewalk to the discomfort of many of the people and began to eat the leftovers.

[Panda]

Annabeth

In spite of herself, the Hunter couldn't help but crack a smile as Gabriel laughed, unable to stop a slight chuckle herself.

"Pretty much," Annabeth said, "Probably going to have a talking to with the guy who gave me that intel later for not having more to go on regarding the little shit's whereabouts. Didn't lose the card, though."

With that, the cowgirl's smirk widened as she reached into a vest pocket and withdrew the aforementioned business card, the only real proof that it had gone through a vamp's neck being the flecks of blood along the bottom edge of the card, and gave a jaunty little wave with it.

[Panda]

Michael

The immortal could see the disagreement in the other man's posture, figuring that he probably wasn't trying all too hard to hide it. He decided to answer to what the man actually said first, however.

"Oh, a number of things," Michael said with a shrug, "A decent fight, some good food and drink, a nice roll in the hay, the usual sorts of things. Of course, there's always a matter of quality, and there are some things that are invariably more interesting. For example, it's always fun to poke away at the little falsehoods people will build up for themselves almost unconsciously, scrape away at the rust until you have the person as they truly are before you. As for a direction, well, I suppose I might have something in mind. At least a temporary distraction."

It was at that point, however, that the sound of screams and fighting rang out, Michael cocking an eyebrow and looking past the man to find that the sounds seemed to be coming from a nearby bar. They soon died away, the silence left behind louder than the sounds of the fighting, before a strange girl in blood-soaked clothing left the bar, sat up in a cart filled with swords, and started eating without a care in the world. Even if she hadn't walked out looking like she had, the immortal could've figured it out. She did nothing to hide the jaunty air with which she carried herself, much like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. The way she moved, however, was...strange, to say the least. The immortal could sense equal parts skill and inexperience, as if he were looking upon some genius who'd mastered a form within a matter of weeks but hadn't fought for long enough to be able to make the best use of it.

"Of course," the immortal continued, glancing back at the man, "The strange contrasts you can find here do help spice things up."

[Kotomine_Rin]

Vanguard

Vanguard gazed at the old child impassively, no, more like looking past him. His words rang hollow to him, it wasn't much different from a broken record to him. Fun? How enviable, for him to be able to feel such things. The joys of youth are truly a wonderful thing. It wasn't that he cared for that individual, he was no less worthless than anyone else including himself.

However, if one could say that humans were like books, pages of history yet to be unraveled, then one could also say that Vanguard wanted to see just where that man's last page would lead.

"Perhaps." He noted dully. He had noticed the sounds emerging from the tavern. They were loud, uninteresting noises. Screams that birthed only to die, steps far too light to deafen those of ants, the flickering of flame and of course, the all to familiar ringing of metal. How quaint.

But what did intrigue him was the figure that emerged from behind the door. A small girl, bloodies yet surprisingly calm. Her eyes, upon a closer glance, were unassuming and youthful, bearing the same innocence and inexperience expected from a child, yet her gait and posture spoke of a different story. That blade she carried so unassumingly, to him it looked no different than a part of her.

Impressive, to think one could achieve the art of the sword with such a youthful spirit. Vanguard smiled and glanced back at his recent acquaintance. "Shall we greet our new friend?"

[Panda]

Michael

The immortal didn't bother to hide the slight frown he felt at the change in the mood, wondering just how sour the old man was.

"Certainly," Michael said, deciding to leave that line of questioning off till later, "If nothing else, this will probably be the most interesting thing I've seen all day."

[Kotomine_Rin]

Vanguard

Vanguard did not bother to respond any further. Instead, he walked up to the bloodied girl and smiled, waving lazily.

"Hello there." He said, looming a little around her before turning to her cart. "My, so many blades. Would you be a merchant of sorts perhaps?"

[Umbra of Chaos]

Meti

In a show of multitasking Meti had held a spoon between her toes and fed herself as she began to clean off her sword with an oiled rag. Neither task interfered with each other and she was about to shovel another spoonful of rice and beans into her mouth when she was interrupted.

"Ehfffwee?" Oh. Right. Making sounds with her mouth full was hard.

So she shook her head and swallowed. "Nope. None of them are for sale! They're all mine to use."

[SINIB]

Rider

Rider nodded with a smile, eagerly anticipating her delicious meal. Noticing that the man appeared to be looking towards an empty table in the corner, Rider headed towards it.

"Yes, I think this would be a good table", she said, pointing towards it.

Sakura Matou

Sakura flashed a smile at Rider and Ron and then turned back to the cashier to order. "I'll have the lettuce, tomato, onion with the barbeque sauce. Hot sauce hasn't been agreeing with me lately."

The cashier nodded politely and then turned to Ron. "And what would you like, then?"

Ron

After a moment of thought the werewolf nodded. "I'll get the same thing, without the onions." He would have kept he onions, but those made him pretty sick if he turned into a wolf while they were still being digested. He learned that the hard way since it wasn't as common a bit of info as dogs not being able to handle chocolate.

The cashier nodded and gave them a receipt with their order number on it. "It should not take too long. We'll bring it out."

With that, Ron motioned to somewhere in the back. "All right, let's get a table then shall we?" He had his eye on a nice table by the corner where it was easy to see anyone else approaching. It wasn't a large restaurant, so they could see pretty much everything out in the open from there.

Sakura Matou

Sakura looked at the table, examining its location in the restaurant. Good lighting, a secluded location, and most importantly, a booth. Sakura liked booths alot more than chairs. They were just more comfortable with their cushioned seats. So Sakura walked over to the table, releasing some small bugs to form a perimeter and set up a temporary defense.

It never hurt to be careful, after all.

Ron

As Ron took his seat he subtly sniffed at the air, taking note of the strange musk of insects that hadn't been there before they sat. Still, it remained small and did not get all that much closer to them. He shrugged it off after a moment and grinned to Rider and Sakura once they settled in. "So, question, and let me know if I'm being too nosy: Are you two sisters?"

Maybe half-sisters. They definitely had similar hair, though that could just be a similar taste in dye colors. But he couldn't smell any dye, so either it was natural or his nose was on the fritz today. It wouldn't be the first time for the latter case.

Sakura Matou

"I wouldn't say that either, Rider." Sakura said, wrapping her arms around her servant's waist. "You're my cute servant, after all." Sakura said with a cheerful voice and no hint of jokingness in her voice.

"So what do you do for a living, Ron?"

[SINIB]

Shirou

Confusion came over Shirou's face once more at the girl's words. He was supposed to have realised that the creature's scream was a "hello"?

"Sorry, it sounded like a scream of distress. I've never seen one of those creatures before", he said. "It's very unusual, I've never seen anything like it."

Then, noticing the girl scanning the area, he wondered what she was doing. Had she lost something?

"Oh, are you looking for something?" he asked. "Do you want some help?"

Oka Kurosawa

"Um, thanks for the offer, but I doubt an amateur like yourself would be able to help me find what I'm looking for." She didn't mean anything bad by this assertion, it was simply honestly what she thought of the vast majority of people in the Nexus. Most of them had proven useless in the capturing of rare pokemon. Even Jin was only mediocre at best. He seemed to only do anything because it made her happy, really.

"And you may not know what they are, but this little fellow is a pokemon. Have you heard of them?" Oka asked, swapping to saleswoman mode.

[Kat]

Mitsuba

"Who interrupted you? If it was the law enforcement, things may get complicated for both of us." Mitsuba frowned at Katase, expecting an answer. They could go find the blond haired man when Katase satisfied her curiosity. "If it was some stupid vigilante, I don't really care that much. If they track down us, nobody will mourn them if we cut them down."

[YOLF]

Faster than he could cry for help, he was already in a dressing room. How deplorable, but he had little choice but to obey. The evil ominous grin of hers was creepy, and the way she stared at him only spelled bad news for his fragile ego. Still, it was fortunate that no one was around for some reason, and even more fortunate that she could not see him blush!

Was he to wear such things? How... how scandalous! Besides, how would they ever fit? Thankfully, she wasn't inside the changing room with him-

Methuselah turned red. Absolutely red. Damn, no good, a god must always be composed and calm. Such thoughts would only fluster him further! He took a deep breath, stripped from his garnishments and looked down on his feet. D-damn, did he gain some weight? He could've sworn he didn't look this large the last time he undressed. Then again, it must've been what, two decades ago?

Methuselah shook his head. No, he couldn't back down now. She had gone all this way for him, the least he could do was repay her by humoring her suggestion. Who knows, they might not look so bad on him if they fit.

"Mhhh....nnnnnh....just a sec..." He grunted and mumbled, trying to shove himself in the pants. Truly humans were bizarre folk, even the XXL sizes barely fit on him! What kind of dwarf was supposed to go inside such kiddy clothes? Damn, just a little push...

"There." He whimpered, feeling his loins crush under the pressure of his garments, along with his entire body. It looked like his muscles would rip out any second now, if an abrupt movement didn't rip the clothes instead. Was he actually supposed to move in that thing? He could barely breathe. Still, he couldn't help but glance at the mirror, and-

He would have liked what he saw, if he had any reflection. So he took a deep breath and decided to put his trust on her judgement. He opened the curtains and revealed his fabulous self, sparkles of pure darkness shining all over as he made his entrance, or rather his exit.

It was honestly shocking, just how different he appeared. Beneath his cloak, it was hard to tell, but Methuselah was practically all muscles! You could tell from every inch of his body exposed and stretching the fabric, that one did not call oneself a god without looking like one. Even the very manifestation of all evils in this world looked quite... good.

If it wasn't for his terrifying voice and face, one could even say his physique was extremely attractive, perfectly proportioned like a Greek statue. No mortal could ever achieve such perfect biceps, they were simply... divine.

"Hey, um, how do I look?" He asked shyly, but trying to sound a little cheerful.

Rafalia Tredecim

Rafalia waited, distractedly keeping the bundles of clothes on her arms. Her eyes wandered over the selection of the store and the offput employees, wondering if it was enough for a satisfactory montage. Not like she was going to pay for them, even if he decided to buy everything. It wasn't really a concern of the faerie rider that the dark god didn't have any typical threads, so much that his poorly concealed rapport was quite misfit. He didn't seem like a whiner, but she only realized now their brief acquaintance brought to mind personalities too grim and infectiously grieving for her to bear with. Or more like feel comfortable with?

Truth be told, 'casual' wasn't even her specialty in the field of aesthetics, her mind geared far more to what gothic, awe-inducing and maybe eerily beautiful scenes Methuselah could inspire in the apex of his role, in his suitably dark outfit and surrounded by the heraldry of darkness and doom. But an anticlimactic frown was too sad on a face like his.

When the curtain was pulled back, Rafalia leaned back around and expressed a soft 'Ooooooh'. Oh. Well, the colors worked well on him, but the fabric was way too tight around his predictably impressive form and she wasn't aiming for some jet-set new wave or ambiguously fabulous hyper-masculinity look here. "We," she chuckled, "need to find you bigger clothes. Those don't seem very comfortable, even if the colors look nice on you."

She dropped her pile on the counter by the dressing room row with a sigh. What kind of diversity-accepting store was this, that they couldn't outfit a huge guy like him? They didn't have shirts with more than two sleeves either come to think of it. What a disgrace!

"Hold on, I'm going to go ask if they have order-made stuff."

Then she heard the loud crumpling and blasting of electronics followed by a dispersion of yelled panic and surprise, reaching her ears from just outside the store. Her stare straightened like an arrow at the unexpected cacophony, askew to her companion's fashion ordeal.

"Wonder what that's about," she invited, before stepping soundlessly through the shop and peeking from behind a decorated tag detector. Hanging dispassionately at almost fifty degrees from the ground, snowy mane falling from her shoulders like silk, to stare at the source of the shenanigans.