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It's Always Horny On Main (In Kuoh): A Trent and Xan Sequel

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Chapter Eighteen: A Terrible Night For A Kurse
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    • Chapter Eighteen: A Terrible Night For A Kurse​

    When Johan opened his eyes once more, having squeezed them shut upon being enveloped by shadows, all he saw was darkness. The only thing giving him any sort of orientation at all was the firm footing beneath him. With a gesture, a bit of ectoplasm snaked out of his sleeve and hovered at his side, igniting with the haunting, skull-like glow of Geistflame.

    The unearthly flame shed its light on the albino and his immediate surroundings, revealing himself to be standing at the foot of a truly massive flight of stairs hewn of grey stone, extending far above him into the primordial darkness beyond which he could not see.The floor beneath his feet was made of the same material, and extended in all directions with no walls within his view.

    As Johan's heart pounded in his throat, he cast about himself more frantically, his spell bobbing and wobbling with his unease. The last time he'd found himself alone in an unfamiliar place, he'd been dragged into a Holy Grail war, but at least that time he'd quickly run across allies to help him—

    Johan exhaled heavily, looking down at the back of his hand where the symbol of a bisected Oroboros gleamed. How could he forget so easily? He wasn't alone, not as long as he had his bond with Rider.

    He reached out with his mind towards Ryoma and—

    The albino doubled over in pain as his mind rebounded against something and slammed back into his consciousness with all the force and brutal abruptness of a car crash. He felt a wetness on his lip as he cursed loudly in pain, stamping one foot on the floor in frustration. When the pain subsided and he wiped at his nose with the back of his sleeve, he was concerned to see that it was, indeed, blood.

    "Okay," he muttered with more than a hint of panic, "if that doesn't work, then what about this?" He flooded his right arm with mana and intent, the Command Seals on the back of his hand gleaming brightly.

    "Rider! To me!" he demanded desperately, eyes flickering to and fro at the shadows around him, paranoia inventing dark figures waiting within them. The sword-like shape that divided the Oroboros in two flashed bright red, and Johan held his breath…

    But nobody came.

    After a few seconds, the Command Seal's glow faded, returning to its normal coloration as though he had merely prepared to activate it and then issued no order at all.

    Johan's breathing quickened as panic threatened to set in. He was utterly alone, without means of contacting his friends, and worse yet he had no idea where he was. His teeth grit in a rictus of stress as he made another, sharper gesture, and more ectoplasm flowed from his person and added itself to his spell. The burning skull tripled in size, piercing the shadows around him and finally showing where the stone on which he stood ended.

    Oh, how he wished that it ended in walls, rather than the abrupt drop into a black abyss that he could now clearly see. A roiling sea of black bordered either side of the stone path on which he stood, and as he looked on, shapes flowed in and out of view within the deep. He caught the suggestion of limbs several times, as well as a brief glimpse of a pair of bright white pits that could have been eyes.

    As he looked on in horror, one of those shapes began to rise from the void, taking on a shape that could only be described as humanoid if one were feeling especially generous, or perhaps especially drunk. It would be more apt to call it a dripping mass of shadow with a pair of ominous stars gleaming in the distended lump that passed for a head.

    The creature stared at Johan, and he dared not even breathe. After a long moment, it seemed to decide something, and beckoned to him with a limb that seemed to end in dramatically different appendages from moment to moment. As the thing lowered the clawed hand that had been a folded blade not unlike a mantis' claw a moment before, its eyes guttered out and reappeared on the opposite side of its head as it shambled down the path.

    Letting out his breath in a wheeze, Johan stood still for a long, tense moment before his feet moved, almost of their own accord. The creature didn't seem hostile, but there was no telling whether or not that would change if he didn't cooperate. He felt as though he was walking directly into the maw of some unknown beast, but he couldn't think of anything else to do.

    Helplessness wasn't unfamiliar to him, especially after the travesty of a Holy Grail War he'd been a part of...but that didn't mean he had to like it.


    Trent's first indication that something was wrong was when Ryoma literally hit the ground of the cavern running and blurred towards him and Archer, Oryou floating behind him with an unusually serious expression on her face.

    Before he even had a chance to speak, the Hero of Reform spoke, his voice and his form tighter than a steel cord. "Master is missing." He hefted a perfectly round orb of lapis lazuli. "I found this embedded in the floor at the center of the circle he was working in."

    Oryou nodded soberly. "It smells like death. Ancient death. I don't like it." The fact that the dragon woman had not referred to herself in the third person was lost on no one.

    The blond clicked his tongue as he accepted the gem and studied it, trying desperately to quell the panic racing through his veins. "Alright, okay. Right. Ryoma, was there anything else at the scene, anything that could point as to what led to this?"

    Ryoma shook his head, a frustrated grimace on his face. "Nothing tangible, no. Oryou mentioned that the stench of death was overpowering in the room, however, and it seems to be coming from this gem. Perhaps now that we have removed it, you'll be able to find some other clue?"

    "Maybe, but you know who probably noticed someone slipping into Kyoto to grab someone?" Trent asked rhetorically, already reaching into his pocket so he could trade the gem for his cellphone. "So, do you want to call her while we go and check out the scene or should I?"

    "I'll do it," the Rider replied, "you've more expertise in matters regarding Magecraft than I. Best not to distract you."

    "You severely overestimate me," the blond shot back as he tossed his phone to the Heroic Spirit. "I've mostly just been following my gut and winging it."

    Snatching the phone out of the air and rapidly dialing Yasaka's number, Ryoma's only reply was to say, "That's still more experience than I." The Rider turned to face a wall as the phone rang, one foot tapping an imprint into the stone floor.

    "Alright, well…" Trent trailed off as he started to head for the exit, only to call over his shoulder. "Nobu! We're heading back to the house as fast as we can, if you dick around, I will use a Command Seal!"

    "Wh— Come on, Master, I'm not that bad!" The Archer complained as she trailed behind him, Papiyas having long since dissipated into nothing.

    The pair ended up racing to their current abode, and were surprised to find Yasaka and a small entourage waiting for them outside, looking deadly serious. Nodding to the leader of Kyoto, Trent huffed, "Rider get through to you, Yasaka?"

    "He did, yes," the kitsune replied, walking with the Canadian as he hurriedly opened the door and rushed through the building, intent on reaching the scene of the crime as quickly as he could. "I was already on my way, having detected the intrusion."

    "Any clue on just what it was?" the blond inquired as they reached the area that Johan had clearly been working in, small trails of ectoplasm and a clear indentation where the gem had been pressed into the flooring. As the two blondes moved to investigate the room, Archer posted up near the door, a musket in hand.

    Yasaka shook her head as her nose wrinkled in distaste, a folding fan sliding out of her sleeve and snapping open in front of her face to hide the grimace on it. "No, although whatever it was can only be described as vile. Not even the rotting corpse of a burn victim is anywhere near as odious."

    "This was in the floor when Ryoma and Oryou arrived." Pulling out the gem and holding it out to the woman, Trent kneeled down to study the circle, wracking his brain to try and understand it. He also made sure not to note the fact that the kitsune had described a death goddess as smelling like absolute shit.

    Bending at the waist, Yasaka couldn't hide the way her eyes narrowed at the stone, nor the way her tone shifted. "Oh, yes, this is a vile trinket, isn't it? It's assuredly connected to whatever took Johan, given that it smells like it was farmed from the worst rot farm possible."

    Still holding the gem out in hopes that the overlord of Kyoto would take it and free up his hand, the blond scooted over to a nearby table, noting that Johan's grimoire was sitting on it. Blinking at the fact that it was open, he used his unoccupied hand to trace the open page. "Ancestral Recall… contact the spirits of one's ancestors, access their memories and wisdom in order to learn new skills and such."

    Tapping a finger on the page before him, Trent grunted, "I really would have rathered that he used the Power Nine version, not this…"

    "I doubt he had the money to do such a thing," Yasaka replied, standing up and moving away from the outstretched rock. "As for the actual ritual, I must confess some confusion as to why he would perform it. You and he are from a very different world than ours, so it would stand to reason that he would have no ancestors to call upon, right?"

    "Right, which begs the question of what the fuck happened when he cast it?" the Canuck muttered, pocketing the stone again as he noted the kitsune had no intention of taking it.

    The boss of Kyoto hummed, most of her face hidden by her fan, and supplied, "Perhaps it tried to reach the closest genetic match?"

    "Given how that shit works, there's a very real chance that the closest match was from the Horn of Africa or the Middle East," Trent theorized, the stone in his pocket weighing heavily in his mind. Pulling it out and looking at it, a bolt of inspiration struck him. "What are the chances his query hit the Mesopotamian Underworld or something? Do you think that might fit?" It was a long shot, built entirely on how much fucking lapis lazuli Ishtar had liked to throw around and used to decorate her bow, but if it worked…

    Yasaka's fan clicked shut, her mouth pulled into a thin line as her lovely features folded in pain. "Oh. Oh my, yes that does fit. And worse still, Johan contacted a long-since-buried underworld, one whose ruling goddess hasn't been seen or heard of since." Sliding her fan into her sleeve, she added, "And when I say long, I mean since centuries before the death of the Bible's messiah."

    "Right, so, Johan's been pulled into an abandoned underworld, by what's most likely a stir crazy goddess, who was already pretty fucked up in the first place," the Canadian summarized, letting a whistling breath out through his teeth. Somehow, he doubted that this world's Ereshkigal would be anything like the one that had been filtered through Rin.

    "Just so," the kitsune agreed with a shallow nod, her arms folding under her chest.

    From her place near the door, Nobunaga let out a wolfish laugh, hellish flame trailing through her hair. "Well, only one option then, isn't there?" Madness flashed in her eyes as her mouth pulled into a toothy grin.

    "We're breaking into Hell."

    "No, no, not Hell," Trent corrected, sighing as he realized that things were going sideways, in a terrible manner, extremely close to the supposed peace summit. "It's Kur, and we're about to show them that it's a terrible night for a Kurse."


    Johan didn't know how long he'd been following the shadow-thing, but it had to have been more than half an hour at the very least. However long it had been, though, the creature had finally led him to someplace other than a winding stone path.

    The palace was great and terrible, a tower monument of obsidian lit by a moat of magma, of all things. Its gates were easily ten times his height, pitch black save for the glimmering blue of polished lapis lazuli framing their edges. The stone path terminated at the edge of the river of molten stone, and the shadowy being stood at the very edge.

    As Johan hesitantly approached, snuffing out his flame now that he had an alternative light-source, the creature's eyes shifted back to the side of its head facing him. Wordlessly, it pointed to the castle with a limb that ended in a spike, then tipped forward without waiting for an answer. Rather than plummeting into the magma, however, its form distorted, stretching across the gap and fastening itself to the opposite end of the chasm. As if to punctuate this transformation, the great gates lurched to life and began to open, obsidian scraping on stone with an ungodly rumble.

    Johan gingerly set foot on the bridge of living shadow, and found it unexpectedly firm, entirely indistinguishable from the stone he'd been standing on only moments before. He fixed his gaze ahead and pointedly did not look down. If he didn't look down, he wouldn't have to confront the fact that the only thing between him and a river of lava was the dubious mercy of an unknown entity.

    A mercy that held, it seemed, as he crossed the chasm without incident. With a dry, nervous swallow, the albino magus entered the palace. He shouldn't have been surprised when the gargantuan gates slammed shut behind him, but his heart leapt into his throat all the same. Grumbling a curse under his breath, he cracked his knuckles one by one as he walked forward, the nervous tic sadly doing little to reduce his stress.

    The interior of the palace was much as foreboding as the exterior, the only light present being given off from the literal fountains of magma flanking either side of the path before him, the molten rock flowing from holes in the ceiling like twin banners and pooling in basins in the floor. Every dozen meters or so, another pair of fountains stood, providing more than sufficient illumination of the place and yet making it even more ominous than were it pitch black.

    Abruptly, Johan realised he'd been standing in place for almost a minute, just staring at the path before him. He shook his head to clear it, then froze as he saw movement in his periphery. His heart returned to its now-familiar summer home in his throat before he realised that it was just the shadowy being again, looking at him with the gleaming white holes that served as its eyes. The creature had no facial features other than the glowing circles, and yet Johan sensed that the thing was impatient.

    This was quickly proven right as the creature beckoned to him, this time with a limb ending in a hand that was almost normal. Almost, because the number of fingers on it changed every time he blinked.

    That was immaterial, though. He'd come this far; he'd follow it a ways further.

    And follow he did, past seven pairs of magmatic waterfalls before halting in front of a throne. He didn't stop of his own accord, though. Something deep inside him, some lizard-brained instinct froze him in his tracks like a deer in front of an eighteen-wheeler. His legs gave out beneath him, and he sank to his knees, chest heaving as he had to force himself to breathe.

    All this, from a single glance at her.

    The woman reclined languidly on her obsidian throne, one robed leg crossed over the other as she regarded Johan with crimson irises set in jet-black sclera. Clawed, onyx fingernails tapped idly at the porcelain skin of one cheek as she considered him, the manic intensity of her gaze belying the casual air she was affecting.

    The goddess was clad in a mantle woven of burial shrouds and bone, with a warped, ribcage-like crown of bone adorning her brow. Braids of ebon hair cascaded down either of her shoulders, stopping just shy of brushing against the floor. Completing her fearsome visage were the veins of lapis lazuli that began at the corners of her eyes and spread down the sides of her face and neck.

    After a long moment, she rose to her feet, towering over the still kneeling Johan. There was a scraping of stone as twin wings of layered obsidian spread from her back and wreathed her form ominously.

    "Mortal," spoke Ereshkigal in a voice like the winds of death, "what folly doth—"

    She coughed.

    Johan blinked, caught off guard, as a moment later she coughed again – harder this time. She put one fist in front of her mouth, turning her head away and obviously trying to hold it in, but more coughs started to follow, until she was stuck in a full-on coughing fit like she'd walked into an attic and breathed pure dust.

    Needless to say, the spell that had been cast over Johan by her carefully-arranged presentation snapped like a twig to the sound of her shadow-being attendant facepalming.

    After a while, the goddess' coughing fit subsided, her eyes carefully avoiding Johan's as she folded her stone wings and plopped down on her throne and leaned back.

    "Dammit!" she swore petulantly, her voice rising a few octaves and losing its ghostly-wail aesthetic, becoming that of a normal woman as opposed to a demon of death. "Six centuries of practicing that speech, and of course the first time I get the opportunity to talk to someone other than my Gallu I fuck it up!" She slammed a fist against one of the chair's arms with a "Gah!" of frustration, then sighed.

    The Gallu (for that was what the shadowy creature was) shambled over to Ereshkigal's side and gave her a pat on the shoulder that would probably have been more comforting if its hand hadn't been replaced with what looked like a roiling mass of tumorous shadow. All the same, though, the goddess seemed like she appreciated it, as she reached up absently and patted the shadow demon on the head-lump.

    Johan shakily rose to his feet, brushing at his pants to dislodge any dust that had accumulated. This motion got the goddess's attention, prompting her to take her hand off of her servant and waved him forward, saying, "Since I totally failed at my first impression, let me start over.

    "Welcome to Ganzir, Black Citadel of the Great Earth. You stand before Ereshkigal, Goddess of the Underworld, mortal mage." She rested her chin on a fist. "So, tell me.

    "What brings you to Kur?"

    Johan blinked, jaw hanging loose. After a moment, he found his voice, stammering, "K-kur!? I was just casting a spell to try and contact my ancestors!"

    The Queen of the Great Earth arched a thin, black eyebrow. "You ended up in Kur after attempting to commune with your ancestors? I can tell just by looking at you that you have no ancestral ties to anyone, living or dead, in any world above or below."

    Johan's eyes widened as he raised a finger, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as realisation dawned. In light of his foolish mistake, he had no choice but to admit:

    "I am not a clever man."
     
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    • Xanothos said:
    "No, no, not Hell," Trent corrected, sighing as he realized that things were going sideways, in a terrible manner, extremely close to the supposed peace summit. "It's Kur, and we're about to show them that it's a terrible night for a Kurse."
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    Booo, boo this man!
    Xanothos said:
    Needless to say, the spell that had been cast over Johan by her carefully-arranged presentation snapped like a twig to the sound of her shadow-being attendant facepalming.
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    You have a knack for making side characters memorable and interesting. I'm honestly curious now about what I assume to be Ereshkigal's long-suffering assistant.

    I'm guessing just as Johan manages to talk things out Nobu is going to smash in like the Kool-Aid man, only with more firepower and flaming skeletons.
     
    FuriousFerret said:
    You have a knack for making side characters memorable and interesting. I'm honestly curious now about what I assume to be Ereshkigal's long-suffering assistant.
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    I'm glad to hear it! As for who this is, it just happens to be one of the oldest Gallu, so it tends to be the one who keeps her company the most. So you're basically correct.
    FuriousFerret said:
    I'm guessing just as Johan manages to talk things out Nobu is going to smash in like the Kool-Aid man, only with more firepower and flaming skeletons.
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    I'm not saying you're wrong. But at the same time, I'm not saying you're right, either.
    :V
     
    Garreon said:
    *I send a look at the badly hidden chart behind a tarp from the corner of my eye and then begin to pour myself a glass of scotch, because damm the shots* I see...hehehehehe
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    I'll repeat what I said over on the SB thread:
    "My intent with the interactions to come between Johan and Ereshkigal are that they develop a friendship, and allow that to organically progress. Whatever comes of that will be decided by how the characters bounce off of one another.

    "In other words, I have no plans for or against any sort of relationship. What happens happens."
     
    Chapter Nineteen: From Kur, With Love
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    • Chapter Nineteen: From Kur, With Love​

    For a long moment, silence reigned in Ganzir as Ereshkigal processed what Johan had said. Then, the goddess let out a chuckle, leaning back on her throne and tapping one sharply-nailed finger idly on its arm. "You're remarkably honest about your faults, mortal mage," she remarked amusedly, "but not lacking in courage, at the very least."

    Ereshkigal idly waved a hand at the Gallu flanking her as though it were a royal guard (and for all Johan knew, it might well have been). "Rare is the human that willingly follows in the wake of a Gallu, even one that isn't hostile. Demons of death don't tend to give off the most favorable emanations to the senses of the living, after all."

    "Well," Johan offered with a slight blush at the praise, "I am an ectomancer. Maybe since I work regularly with the metaphysical remains of departed spirits, I am more used to that kind of thing?" He loosened his collar before continuing, "Beyond that...there really wasn't much choice. I mean, I guess I could've tried climbing the stairs, but with no top in sight it didn't really seem like a good idea, and now that I know where I am I doubt I could've got out anyways—"

    Johan cut himself off. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

    Ereshkigal gave a dismissive wave. "Don't worry about that. This is the first meaningful conversation I've had in more than a millennium." More quietly, but still loud enough to be heard, she muttered, "Old 'nanna doesn't count; all she ever wants to talk about is cock, cock, and more cock."

    The pale goddess rolled eyes of burning pitch. "But I'm sure you don't want to hear about my woes, mortal mage—actually, what is your name?" she asked with a flick of her hair that sent her noose-like braids bouncing. "Call me sappy, but I'd like to know the name of my first mortal visitor since...well, since a while."

    Johan swallowed, unsure if giving a goddess his name was a bad idea akin to giving it to a fae. After a moment, he concluded that he could scarcely give Ereshkigal more power over him than she already had, what with him entering her realm uninvited and willingly entering the seat of her power unarmed.

    His extended pause hadn't gone unnoticed, however, as one of the Queen of the Great Earth's eyebrows was steadily creeping upward. He cleared his throat nervously and replied, "Johan Lewis! My name. It's Johan Lewis."

    "Johan, hmmm?" Ereshkigal said the name slowly, as though rolling it over her tongue to see if it tasted fair or foul. After a moment or two, she gave a nod. "Were it I who named you, I would have chosen Gidri, but you wear the name you were born to well."

    That...was an odd thing to say, but Johan was getting the impression that Ereshkigal was an odd goddess in general. Not in a bad way, just...different.

    "You're thinking rude things about me, aren't you?" the aforementioned Built Different Goddess said, her arms crossed and the beginnings of a pout on her face.

    "No, no!" Johan babbled, waving his hands in front of him. "It's just...you're not at all what I expected. I admit, I'm not exactly a scholar of Sumerian myth, but I've done a bit of reading on the subject. And you...you're a lot more, I dunno, relaxed, than what I've read would suggest."

    Ereshkigal let out a huff. "I swear, you threaten an invasion of the dead once when you're cranky and string up your bitch sister for trying to steal your domain and suddenly everyone thinks you're evil!"

    Johan was carefully silent.

    After a moment, she blew a raspberry. "Nothing, huh? Need to work on my delivery, I guess." She sighed and shook her head. "Well, the long and short of it is that getting out of an abusive relationship did wonders for my mood, to say nothing of how lonely it is down here! I mean, sure I can peek into the living world through my Gallus' eyes," she reached up and gave the amorphous demon at her side another affectionate pat, "but that's not the same. All the souls that were down here have long since gone through the full length of their afterlives and become one with the Great Earth, and even when they were still around only a few of them talked to me."

    Ereshkigal sighed again, leaning her head back against the cold obsidian of her throne. The Gallu patted her shoulder again, managing to look sympathetic in spite of its utter lack of facial features save a pair of white-hot orbs of light.

    "...It sounds like you've got it rough," Johan admitted, shifting from foot to foot. "I'd offer to lend a friendly ear, but my friends have probably noticed I'm missing by now and are no doubt worried sick."

    The goddess straightened all at once, her eyebrows jumping high enough to almost merge with her bangs. "Shit! I was having such a good time finally talking to someone I totally forgot that I should be sending you back!" She shot to her feet, bone-crown coming askew from where it had been perched atop her brow. "Ahhhh, sorrysorrysorry!" she mumbled out, rubbing at her temples with panicked abandon.

    "Miss Ereshkigal, please! Don't worry about it; given the circumstances, I don't blame you." Johan offered soothingly, momentarily forgetting that the woman bugging out in front of him was a goddess of death.

    The Queen of the Great Earth froze, then turned to Johan. "'Miss' Ereshkigal?" she questioned, almost incredulously, then let out a deep, full laugh. "I don't think I've ever been called that in all my millennia."

    She gave a small, sincere smile. "I don't mind it, though."

    Johan let out a sound somewhere between the sound of a cat choking on a sausage and a hippo grunting underwater as he beheld the sight.

    In front of a death goddess or not, out of his element and literally in the underworld or not, one thing remained the same.

    Johan could not hold his spaghetti for shit.


    Trent and Yasaka stood in the backyard of the building that had been leased to the interdimensional magi, their Servants, and Charlie, the pair of blondes desperately trying to stop Archer from continuing with her plan to drill to the center of the Earth. The Canadian had his arms hooked under Nobunaga's, holding her up in the air as her fleet flailed, Papiyas floating behind them with its six hands spinning like drills. Meanwhile, Oryou and Ryoma had gone off to meet one of Yasaka's contacts who might actually be able to do something of substance about this situation.

    Across from them, the kitsune had her hands up in a cautioning manner, and slowly spoke, "Please, Lord Oda, use a modicum of patience while we plan this out. I understand that you are one for action, but to simply charge forward right now would be foolhardy! Your actions could easily result in lava erupting all over Kyoto, and that's the last thing I need with the peace summit looming so close!"

    "Worry not, yoko! My works, grand and terrible that they are, shall allow me to blast through the chaff between the surface and Kur!" the Heroic Spirit roared, her arms waving in time with her feet, a look between amusement and annoyance on her face. "Release me, Master! Together, we can establish our supremacy over the planet and its quaint 'tectonics!' We shall show that explosions are the correct way to move continents!"

    "We don't need to reenact the arrival of the Mesoamerican Gods on your home planet, Nobu! That event came with too high a cost!" Trent roared back, entirely too tempted to use a Command Seal to rein in the energetic Archer.

    As Yasaka's head whipped up to look at the blond, her brows furrowing in confusion as she mouthed her bafflement. The Canuck shook his head, tears in his eyes as he cried, "The dinosaurs were taken from us too early, Nobu! I'm not letting you make humanity go the same way!"

    The boss of Kyoto took a moment to analyze that, and then mentally pushed it from her mind, deciding that it was very much not her problem. She went to speak, only for a surge of energy to cause her to wheel around, the stench of death bubbling up and seeping into the circle that Johan had drawn. Her eyes fixated on the mystical drawing through the sliding doors that had been pulled open, her ears standing on end above her hair.

    Necrotic energy slithered across the floor, dyeing it in the colours of Ereshkigal and Kur, before seemingly settling. Ornately carved spires of obsidian, lapis lazuli and bone rose gracefully from the cardinal points of the circle, the floor beneath rippling and parting smoothly like water rather than cracking. The divot that previously held the orb of lapis lazuli began to glow, and seconds later, the massive gem shot from Trent's pocket with enough force to pull him off balance as it flew back into the space from whence it came.

    Finally, the settled energy rose, flashing over the pillars in a curtain of deepest black before parting to reveal a somewhat bedraggled but otherwise unmarred Johan stumbling from the Gate that had just been constructed. Trent and Nobu, meanwhile, were in a tangle on the ground, the blond trying desperately to free himself at the sight of his returned compeer.

    As the ectomancer tumbled out of the circle, Yasaka put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes as she inquired, "Johan, what is in your shadow? I know it's there."

    Johan glanced behind him absently as he patted himself down. "Oh, you mean Nanni?" he asked back, as a pair of bright white orbs opened on his shadow corresponding to where his own eyes would've been. The shadow waved, despite Johan not moving his arm. "He's a Gallu. Miss Ereshkigal lent him to me to teach me stuff when she can't."

    "Bruh," Trent declared as he managed to pull himself free from Nobunaga, and subsequently threw her up for Papiyas to catch.

    The kitsune crossed her arms as she looked at the albino, one foot tapping as she looked at him with all the disappointment she held as a mother. "And just what is this about Miss Ereshkigal?"

    Johan scrubbed at the back of his head with one hand and let out a nervous chuckle. "Turns out that when the only company you have for four thousand years is mute death demons and the likes of Ishtar, you become a lot more friendly to strangers. Go figure, right?"

    "And she just thought that it was a good idea to install a portal right here in Kyoto? I—" Yasaka stopped, uncrossing her arms and reaching up to put them over her face. She halted her hands at chest level, taking a deep breath, and then asked, "Do you have any other bombs that you'd like to drop?"

    "We're dropping bombs?!" Nobu called from the background, twisting around in Papiyas's arms as she tried to get back to the ground.

    Johan chuckled nervously. "Uh...she kinda...wantstocometothepeacesummitpleasedontbemad!" By the end of his sentence, he'd transitioned into a full ninety-degree bow, sweat beading on his brow. His shadow folded its hands pleadingly.

    The kitsune's hands spasmed, her fingers dancing as her smile became strained. She stood stock still for a few moments, and then quietly inquired, "Because she's lonely?"

    Johan spoke slowly and carefully, his back still parallel to the ground. "That, yes, but also because she wants to, quote, 'be supportive of her new apprentice's endeavors'. The new apprentice being me." He spread his hands as if to indicate helplessness. "She also mentioned having some information that might be relevant to the conference, though she sent me back before I could ask what."

    "I see," was all Yasaka said, a low keening noise building up in the back of her throat as her mouth froze in a rictus. Slowly and mechanically, she turned and started trudging away, a quiet litany of curses leaving her as she mumbled about the upcoming paperwork and phone calls she'd need to make to the Biblical factions.

    Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Trent ignored the fit Yasaka was suffering through and stomped right up to Johan. Putting his hands on the albino's shoulders and wrenching him upright, the blond declared, "Johan, do you have any idea how worried I was?" Before the ectomancer could even begin to respond, the Canuck pulled him into a hug. "You've got no idea how happy I am that you're alright."

    A lump rose in Johan's throat as he returned the hug. "Thanks, man."
     
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    • Xanothos said:
    The boss of Kyoto took a moment to analyze that, and then mentally pushed it from her mind, deciding that it was very much not her problem.
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    Truly, she has grasped the best approach to the gang's off-plane bullshit.

    Laughing at Eresh joining in on the peace summit. I legit did not see that coming at all, and I'm interested in where it'll be going.

    Sorta glad, and sorta sad Nobu's "blow up the Earth until the problem is solved" approach was prevented though.
     
    Chapter Twenty: Reaching the Summit
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    • Chapter Twenty: Reaching the Summit​

    In the intervening week between Johan's return from the underworld and the start of the Peace Conference, not much of note occurred save for the reappearance of a few familiar faces as various members of the Three Factions came into Kyoto. Azazel came by the house, ostensibly to visit and say hi, but the way Shemhazai appeared and dragged him away made it clear that he was just using that as an excuse to shirk his duties. Nobunaga had naturally asked about the gun he had promised her, which only caused the Fallen to loudly declare that it was still in beta and had some kinks to be ironed out.

    Apparently it was into armpits, and that needed to be rectified.

    There was also a minor incident in which one Issei Hyoudou accidentally earned the confusion of Shuten Douji, when he complimented her breasts. In the middle of the Kiyomizu Temple. Among people unaware of the supernatural.

    He was saved from being attacked by the oni's crew by his King, who shared a bit of commiseration with the oni over having rowdy subordinates.

    Beyond that, though, little of note happened as the days drew closer to the conference, and so Johan took that time as an opportunity to visit his newfound patron in Kur on a regular basis. Which left Trent feeling a bit lost, as his only real help in improving his magecraft was Nobu, who was no help at all.

    Sure, the Heroic Spirit was very useful in terms of combat potential, his speed and ideas for using his magecraft in combat having improved greatly… But, it didn't help in terms of actually growing the magecraft itself or creating new spells.

    All too soon, though, the day of the peace talks arrived.

    The summit was set to take place in a gated-off palace, a pleasant view of the flowering cherry blossoms for all to see from the opened doors. Yasaka had gone all out in furnishing the venue, alongside preparing vast amounts of refreshments for every guest that might show their face.

    As the hosts, the Youkai had naturally arrived first, with Yasaka primly dressed in a luxurious kimono, Shuten wearing her usual attire of a loosely fitting kimono that bordered on indecency, and Tamamo in a fitted womens' suit. They made for an eclectic group, with the leader of Kyoto biting her tongue to keep from sighing at the lack of a unifying aesthetic.

    Following them were Yasaka's guests (except for Charlie and Astolfo, who had been left to their own devices in "Horny Jail" as they knew the latter would cause issues in the peace conference), all of them putting an effort into grooming themselves properly. The Servants were clad in their usual attire, although Ryoma had pressed his suit while Nobu had shined the sunburst on her cap. Trent and Johan wore suits that had been bought with the profits from the shop that Oryou had opened, Trent's tie decorated with crows while Johan's had ghosts printed on it. Oryou had insisted on the ties, stating that they might not be as good as frogs, but they were alright.

    Ereshkigal had joined them, dressed up like an office lady, complete with pencil skirt, button-up shirt and charcoal grey suit jacket, her hair done up in a massive bun with crossbone pins. Her joining them had earned a rather confused cavalcade of looks and reactions from Trent and the Heroic Spirits.

    Ryoma had regarded the goddess with a careful, serious gaze, and said nothing of what he thought of her. Johan suspected that he was still unsure of her in the face of the whole "accidental kidnapping thing", which was fair.

    Oryou, for her part, looked her over once and gave a firm nod, saying something about swapping hair care tips later.

    After studying her for a bit, the Canadian had ended up shrugging and remarked, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that she isn't a blonde disaster woman. Still going to take some getting used to."

    "Oi, why don't we just fight her? See how well she can do…" Nobu had declared with a grin, fire burning across her hands like a glove. "I'd love to see how Papiyas' flames do against her!"

    At this, Eresh looked ready to cry, and Johan cut in, pleading, "Archer, please don't threaten to set Miss Ereshkigal on fire. That's bullying."

    "It isn't a threat, it's a desire to experiment!" The Demon King of the Sixth Heaven protested that accusation, putting her hands on her hips. "If I wanted to bully someone, I'd find Nobukatsu! Or Okita! Or that bat-hikkikomori!"

    "Did someone say 'experiment?'" Came a jovial, familiar voice as Azazel sauntered up, dressed in a grey yukata. He gave a friendly grin to the group as a whole, which Nobu returned in full force. His gaze swept them all and landed on Eresh, a complicated expression settling on his face.

    "Man, Yasaka wasn't kidding. It's really you, Ereshkigal." He produced a paper fan from...somewhere and began to fan his face like some kind of debutant. "It's been, what, two and a half millennia? Three?"

    The Queen of the Great Earth gave a slight nod. "Three thousand, two hundred and thirty-five years, seven months, six days, two hours, and twenty-nine minutes." Her face coloured slightly. "O-or something like that, anyways."

    Azazel's face twisted into a slight grimace, and he let out an embarrassed, guilty chuckle. "Yeah...I'm glad to see you're doing well, though!"

    Ereshkigal, face still slightly red, gave a wan smile. "I suppose I am, yes." The implied "no thanks to you, asshole" went unsaid but understood. "However...interesting it is to see you again, Scapegoat, we scarcely want to be late, now do we?" She cast a pleading look to Johan and the rest of his group. "Shall we?"

    Johan gave a nod. "I have no objections."

    Before the group could move, Nobu loudly interjected, "You. Crow-man. Where's the gun you promised me?"

    Azazel gave a laugh, then produced a small crystal rod with an attached handle and trigger from within his yukata and tossed it to Nobu. "Just envision—"

    Before he could even finish speaking, Nobunaga had already pulled the trigger, a beam of energy lancing out and striking Azazel in the chest...which rapidly became voluptuous and feminine as Azazel's gender switched.

    "Aaaand that's the sex-swapping function," Azazelette offered, entirely unperturbed by her sudden penile pandemonium.

    Looking at the rough approximation of a gun, Archer shrugged. "I don't need a gun to do that though."

    Azazelette blinked, cupping her chin. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering what I heard about your shapeshifting, coupled with the fact that Oda Nobunaga was originally depicted as a man…"

    Shooting the Fallen again, Nobu grumbled, "I can see what you meant about kinks that needed to be worked out, especially if I'm going to use it."

    Azazel, now possessed of his original organs once more, chuckled. "As I was saying, that's just the default setting. To change its form, just picture any kind of firearm or projectile weapon, and it will transform into it. Doesn't even have to be scientifically possible; Sci-Fi has some of the best inspirations."

    "Eh, this is fine," the Heroic Spirit replied, holding up what looked to be a long metal rail, a fat warhead emblazoned with Papiyas' skull sitting in it, nestled in the middle of a thick rubber sling.

    Johan let out a wheeze of panic, seeing the weapon for what it was. "Oh no," he whispered, eyes full of despair.

    Azazel had given Nobu access to a Fat Man. If she used that thing, what gods would be left to help them?

    None, that's what...


    Sitting beside Serafall, his wife looming behind him, Sirzechs Lucifer beamed around the room, a smug grin on his face. Not even Grayfia's stern gaze boring into the back of his head could bring him down, not with how things were shaping up.

    Not only did the three Biblical Factions have a perfect opportunity to start down the road to peace, but the Youkai were sitting in the proper position to join in, alongside the remnants of the Babylonians! His grin softened as warmth filled his heart; the dream that he and the other Satans had longed for was within reach.

    Of course, that was when Azazel had to open his mouth and ruin his good vibes, the smug bastard. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—"

    The Governor-General's mouth clicked shut as Shemhazai blatantly dope-slapped him upside the head even as a white-haired twink of a boy (who'd been introduced as the White Dragon Emperor) slammed his foot down on the Fallen's underneath the table.

    The Scapegoat pouted, muttering something about a lack of respect. At that, a blond man wearing pauldrons that'd make a Space Marine proud gave a beatific smile.

    "Why don't you act respectable, then, dear brother?" asked Michael, the de-facto leader of heaven and mightiest of the Archangels.

    Serafall let out an "Ooooooooh, burn" under her breath before Yasaka cleared her throat pointedly and said, "If we've all gotten our silliness out of our systems, perhaps we might be able to proceed?"

    The Lucifer looked around, taking in the fact that his sister, her Peerage, and her little friend were present for such a momentous occasion. While he wanted to smile, he coughed into his fist and stoically declared, "Then, first and foremost, we must address one of the most pressing topics that will need to be revealed to our factions at large: the death of the Biblical God."

    There were murmurs amongst the gathered Yokai, but by and large those gathered had reactions of grim acceptance, or grief in the case of the Angels and the Fallen. A particular pair of Exorcists that had been chosen to attend, one with blue hair and the other with blonde, looked absolutely shattered at the statement.

    "Oh, neat," Nobu remarked into the murmuring, crossing her arms in thought. "Kinda wish I could've had a crack at him, see how strong he was."

    Holding a fist up to his mouth and clearing his throat, Sirzechs continued, "Originally, we kept this information a secret in order to keep panic from spreading amongst our communities. Over time, it simply became a policy to keep the information from spreading… but now, with our unified front, I believe that we can support each other and grow stronger, together!"

    Azazel stifled a snort, ignoring the look that Grayfia shot him. "Don't get me wrong, 'Zechs; I'm totally on board with what you're saying. Not having to worry about this tiresome cold war would be absolutely ideal for all of us." His face grew serious as he tented his hands in front of his face. "But you know as well as I do that it's just not that simple. There's people out there that would love nothing more than to turn our cold war hot, and I'm not just talking about the hardliners in our respective factions."

    "You're talking about the Khaos Brigade," Shuten stated, eyes narrowed. "My boys picked up rumors here and there, and Hoji's got ears everywhere." She jerked her head at Tamamo, who was examining her finely manicured nails with an expression that couldn't be more bored.

    "Yuppo!" Serafall declared, nodding emphatically as she waved her magical girl wand above her head. "They're a bunch of real nasty pieces of work, running around, trying to rile up the discontented members of any supernatural group they can reach! A real evil organization if there ever was one!"

    Beside her, the redheaded Satan clarified, "While we don't know for sure which factions they've managed to gain a foothold with, we do know that they've reached out to members of the Old Satan Faction in Hell, alongside more radicalized members of the Fallen and numerous excommunicated Exorcists. With how weak our ties with other factions are currently, we cannot say for sure just who has agreed to work with them."

    "A-about that." Ereshkigal spoke up for the first time since the conference had begun, shrinking slightly when every eye in the room turned to her. "I, um, tagged along here today to show my support for my protégé, but also to deliver a piece of information." She hummed nervously, before quickly blurting out, "HadesiswiththeKhaosBrigade."

    Leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, Azazel let out a low whistle as he murmured, "Well that's not good...he used to be a pretty chill guy, for an Olympian."

    "I must agree, brother. Lord Hades was one of the more honourable and welcoming of the Olympians," the highest Seraph remarked quietly, reaching up to cup his chin as his brow furrowed in thought.

    Sirzechs, his arms crossed and expression stormy, asked, "The question becomes why did he join them?"

    "He, um." Eresh rubbed the back of her head nervously, jostling her bun in the process, before continuing, a deeply uncomfortable look on her face. "He went mad with grief. After Persephone was...violated and butchered," she whispered the last three words, a shudder going through her body.

    Johan looked over at his friend and teacher, deeply worried about her, and reached over to rest a hand on her shoulder. Because holy fucking shit.

    The Satan Lucifer's face twisted, anger colouring every facet of his usually exquisite features as he took a brief moment to look back at his wife. "And, do we know who the culprit was? They must have been someone of great power to not just circumvent Hades, but escape him as well."

    Ereshkigal had stopped shaking by this time, having covered Johan's hand with her own and given it a tight squeeze. Her reply was quiet, but the room had gone so deathly silent that it was as clear as crystal.

    "Rizevim Livan Lucifer."

    That name was enough for Sirzechs and Serafall to swear in unison, the former's face twisting in anger while the latter's grip tightened to the point of shattering the handle of her wand. Slamming his fist down on his knee, the current Satan growled, "Damn that man, and his vile desires!"

    In a more subtle move, Azazel turned his head to look at Vali, his expression one of concern.

    The White Dragon Emperor had gone stone still the moment the words had left the goddess' mouth, an expression of deep and unfettered hatred falling over his face like a mask of iron and acid.

    In a voice like gravel on glass, Vali Lucifer bit out, "Yeah, that sounds like something grandfather would do."

    The gathered masses did not have time to react to that bombshell, though, as another, far more literal (albeit magical) one went off just outside the wards of the palace, making a large hole in them and causing the building to shake.

    A three meter tall tentacled abomination covered in teeth and possessing the maw of a demonic starfish burst through a wall, only to be immediately turned to ash in Papiyas' hands. Johan and Trent looked at one another with dread, recognizing the work of Prelati's fell tome on sight.

    Magics of all colors and elements began to rain down upon the breached barrier, arrows thundering alongside them and ripping through any mystical barrier before them, while thunder crashed with each one landing. One thing had become abundantly clear.

    Gilles de Rais had come, and he'd brought friends.
     
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    • Ooof, thats a hell of an ending.

    At least they don't have to root through the sewers past the flesh furniture to find him?

    I did wonder who was going to crash the peace conference given all the changes. I would guess Gilles is still involved with them somehow given they're a clearinghouse for degenerate assholes.
     
    FuriousFerret said:
    Ooof, thats a hell of an ending.

    At least they don't have to root through the sewers past the flesh furniture to find him?

    I did wonder who was going to crash the peace conference given all the changes. I would guess Gilles is still involved with them somehow given they're a clearinghouse for degenerate assholes.
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    Here's a fun little thought exercise for you, regarding who Gilles is working with. What Khaos Brigade member took a busload of Devil children hostage just because they could, and is also linked to Gilles in the worst way?
    If you find that answer, you'll know just who he's working with...and the other person responsible for mass child torture and murder.
     
    Xanothos said:
    What Khaos Brigade member took a busload of Devil children hostage just because they could, and is also linked to Gilles in the worst way?
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    I would assume that means the reincarnation of Jean de Arc. I sorta half-thought since she wasn't a saber-face he'd think of her as some sort of false Jean and react poorly. Guess I was wrong about that.
     
    FuriousFerret said:
    I would assume that means the reincarnation of Jean de Arc. I sorta half-thought since she wasn't a saber-face he'd think of her as some sort of false Jean and react poorly. Guess I was wrong about that.
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    On the one hand, that's a fair point. On the other hand, from his perspective, she's a better version of a fallen Jeanne than even he could come up with (literally, if you think about JAlter).

    Perpetrating acts of evil while claiming them to be holy all the while hosting the spirit of the Saint of Orleans would be too delicious of a sin for him to pass up on. And that's not even getting into how hard he'd cream himself upon finding out that the big G bit the big one.

    They're neither a match made in heaven nor hell, because neither wants a damn thing to do with them, but they're a match nonetheless.
     
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