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Shadows

Yoshimitsu

Former Moderator
So, time to kick-start a big plot-arc I have planned. It'll span across both RPs and fiction and hopefully end with a big climactic ending that will be spoken about for years to come. The plot starts here but focuses on various characters, both my own and from other people, and how they react and deal with the various elements thrown at them as the plot progresses.

The first installment follows Yoshimitsu as he tracks down one of Colichemarde's best assassins.

Bloodwing. Assassin. Real name unknown. Specializes in covert operations and assassinations. Choice of weapon changes depending on mission, as it should with any assassin worth their pay. Most common weapon used was a sniper rifle. Trails went cold when trying to identify who the rifle belonged to. A trained assassin from Colichemarde, there were never any paper trails. Someone had been hiring him to take out political enemies but there was very little pattern to who was being killed. So far, there were no suspects for who hired Bloodwing and for what purpose, other than eliminating competition.

Yoshimitsu looked at the sheet of paper in his hand again as he perched on the windowsill and snorted. Bloodwing. Really? He folded the sheet up and put it back into his pocket, gazing out at the city. It wasn't quiet, not even past midnight. Cars were still out, people wandering up and down the sidewalks, orange streetlights casting a glow. He wasn't particularly surprised by this, though. It was one of those cities, so-called cities that never slept. It was rubbish, of course. The city slept, it just had to deal with a terrible hangover in the morning. And just like any good city, it had its seedy underside that everyone knew about but no one commented on.

There wasn't a lot to go on. The only information he really had was the speculative dossier he'd already read fives times and a vague target description hinting that whoever the target was, they were a higher-up in one of the various mafias that were running in the city. It was a break from the pattern but Yoshimitsu wasn't complaining. The mafia would undoubtedly have more protection so the assassin would have to take longer to prepare. Sniper rifles were out, so Yoshimitsu might be able to catch this 'Bloodwing' (he snorted again) before he managed to kill whoever it was.

He reached up and swung his body out of the window, heels touching the small ledge of the window frame. The building across wasn't that much lower than where he was perching. He kicked off the bricks and easily covered the distance, rolling as he hit the roof and coming up in a crouch. The best way he could figure to track this assassin was to keep to rooftops and try to spot any commotion. It wasn't a perfect plan, he reasoned. It really wasn't a perfect plan at all, but there wasn't exactly a lot he could do about that without any extra information. He ran to the edge of the building and launched himself into the empty air.

Something didn't feel right about tonight though.

Cars rushed by in the busy roads as he stood on the edge of the building's roof, looking down at the activity below. It was a tough call. Did he keep moving and hope to stumble upon the assassination attempt in progress, or did he stay still and pray that it happened within his visual range? From where he was, he could see a fair distance but it was, by no means, an all-encompassing view. He looked down at the roads again, watching cars weaving in and out of each other, horns blaring as they were cut off and curses thrown through open windows. A silver car cut through the intersection below, bringing about another round of blaring horns and swearing, and on a whim Yoshimitsu jumped to the next building to follow it.

The wind rushed around him as he leapt through the air, landing on another ledge and running the length of it. He kept one eye on the car as he jumped again and again, keeping a good altitude and quietly grateful for his dark clothes. This was something he could do. Running, jumping, following, something active and physical. He'd lived that way for a while and he was happy to go back to it. Constantly moving, fighting, never letting his mind or body settle for too long. Finding clues and connecting dots... Not his thing. He left that to other people nowadays, people who could do that without messing up an entire investigation. No, he left the thinking to other people and kept to the action.

There was a darkness in the air that he just couldn't place.

The silver car swerved around a corner and Yoshimitsu kicked off the wall he had just landed against, bouncing to the next building and keeping up with the pursuit. He knew this wasn't the best thought out plan but that hadn't been the point. Even if the car left the city, all he was doing was keeping active. Moving around the city. If the car left, he'd just pick another and follow that wherever it took him. Jumping around aimlessly wouldn't have helped him at all. He would've just ended up in a tight circle that wouldn't even come close to observing the entire city. The silver car turned another car and Yoshimitsu followed, just in time to hear the first gunshot.

He latched on to the side of the building, gripping a window frame tightly as he listened. If he was lucky, it wasn't a killing shot. If he was unlucky, he'd have to narrow down his search immediately and pray the assassin, Bloodwing (he didn't snort this time because he didn't want to miss any more sounds, but he was tempted) hadn't immediately left the area. A second gunshot and he was on the move again. It was nearby, back around the corner he had just come from. A glance down told him it wasn't on the main street; no one was running or panicking or ducking. A third gunshot and he honed in on where the sound was coming from. Third floor directly opposite him. He threw himself across the space, shielding his face as he smashed through the window.

Luckily, the gunshots weren't coming from the room he crashed into. Given the volume, Yoshimitsu guessed that they were a couple of rooms away, a bit further into the building. He rolled to his feet and glanced around. Some kind of refurbishment was going on. A lot of paint cans and wood boards and metal pipes. He stood up and ducked into a corner as a dark blue handgun formed in his right hand. For a few moments, he just stood there and controlled his breathing. If anyone had heard the window breaking, someone would probably have been sent to find out what had happened. He stood in the corner, his grip tight on the gun and listened for footsteps.

Something was chilling his bones and he couldn't figure out what, or why.

Once he was certain no one was coming to investigate, he pushed the door open slowly. He could hear activity but none of it was headed in his direction. Muffled footsteps and the metallic slide and click of bullets being loaded into guns. He crept along the corridor and followed the sounds. Another gunshot pierced the air but it still wasn't close enough for it to be the target. He ducked into a room just as he saw someone rounding the corner ahead and closed the door as quietly as possible. As the sounds passed, he stepped out again.

Navigating the inside of the building wasn't particularly difficult. It was just another office building with a lot of corridors and rooms with desks (or wood and pipes and stuff because apparently it was a floor-wide refurbishment). Why the mafia had chosen here to have some super-secret meeting, he had no idea. It was mildly less conspicuous than in a cliche mafia-owned cafe, he supposed as he peered around the next corner. He had to be getting close now.

The door in front of him was already ajar. He nudged it open silently, just far enough for him to slip in without making a sound. It was another room undergoing remodeling. Blue sheets covered the floor, lines of paint that had fallen from the brushes covering them, a set of ladders and a couple of temporary tables set up against the walls. Inside were two people, one wearing a suit and issuing orders into a phone and the other in black clothes. This had to be the assassin. There was a glint of light and Yoshimitsu saw the knife in the assassin's hand. Whoever Bloodwing was, they were smart enough to wear gloves and not leave behind any traces. He stepped into the room as quietly as he could.

"I don't want to alarm you, but I have a gun pointed at your head," Yoshimitsu said quietly as he aimed at the base of Bloodwing's skull.

Bloodwing's elbow snapped back and batted Yoshimitsu's arm away just as he was about to pull the trigger. A bullet, wrapped in flames, embedded itself in the wall and Yoshimitsu dismissed the gun, raising his fists and blocking the second elbow that was fired his way. Bloodwing's hand wrapped around his wrist and Yoshimitsu yanked the assassin in closer, slamming his free fore-arm into their neck then shoving them away. Now there was a bit of space between them, Yoshimitsu looked at the assassin. Dark hair, face concealed by black cloth, combat boots and a belt that had a few things hanging from it. A knife, something white and plastic that Yoshimitsu couldn't quite tell what was, a handgun and some grenades. Smoke grenades, he guessed. Their clothes were tight but still gave their body a shapeless quality. Lithe and long, he couldn't actually figure out their gender.

He ducked as Bloodwing launched a roundhouse kick at his head but he didn't have time to counter as their other foot came at his face fast. He blocked and felt himself slide back slightly. There was a lot of force behind these kicks, more than he would have expected from someone so slender. Their heel came crashing down and he rolled back to avoid having his skull crushed but there was no let-up from the assassin. Even as he got his feet under him, he had to jump back to avoid the knife that would have spilled his organs if he hadn't moved. He looped his foot around one of the tables and kicked it at Bloodwing, taking the split second reprieve to ready himself for the next round of attacks.

Bloodwing was fast. Almost impossibly so. Yoshimitsu thought he was fast but he was barely keeping up with the assault. Just as he thought he had an opening to counter-attack, Bloodwing was moving again. Twisting in the air or ducking low to try to sweep his feet from under him, there was no let-up with the offensive. Yoshimitsu kicked off the wall and flipped over the assassin but was rewarded with a kick to the stomach for his efforts. He gripped the foot, holding it close, and twisted in an attempt to unbalance his opponent. Bloodwing twisted and brought their other foot at Yoshimitsu's face, forcing him to relinquish his grip so that he could avoid a broken nose.

He tried to summon his sword to give him an edge but nothing happened. He focused, concentrating on the shape of the blade and the link he had to Bahamut, trying to feel the dragon's presence. There was nothing. Not quite a void, more like a solid wall that he couldn't bypass. He looked down and saw the metal band around his wrist. It must have been some kind of power-suppressor. Clever little sneak. The assassin had cut him off from his entire arsenal and he hadn't even noticed.

He jumped back and kicked another table, smashing the wood, then picked up one of the legs as he kicked the remains across the room. Bloodwing slid under the table, the white object no longer on their belt. He felt a sharp pain just underneath his shoulder as whatever the object was sliced straight through his skin and lodged itself under his joint. There was a loud crack and the white object was removed, but the pain lingered and the table leg slipped from his grip. He looked down and saw what it was. A plastic knife. The end must have been sharpened to a point, easily cutting through the skin and muscle, then the end broken off to stay lodged. That was his left arm out of play. If he moved it too much, the shard of plastic would shift and send even more pain shooting through his shoulder. The assassin was clever, he'd give them that much.

Keeping his left arm close to his chest, he raised his right again and got ready for another round of attacks. There was no way he was going to win this fight conventionally, but that hadn't been the point. Whoever the target was, they were undoubtedly long gone by now. Mission accomplished. The assassin probably knew that, too. The fight was just showing off, now. There was a glint in the assassin's eyes though. They'd missed their mark, they'd missed their chance to pursue but they could still deal with the biggest loose end. Him. He gritted his teeth and got ready to fight again.

There was a flash of black, a wave or a tendril or a blade, something black and cut through the room and Bloodwing let out a small gasp. Yoshimitsu's eyes went wide, looking around the room for whatever had caused that blackness to suddenly appear and Bloodwing fell to their knees. Still keeping his arm close, he warily approached the assassin. It could be a trick, a feint, but his instinct was telling him it wasn't. The assassin's eyes, their pupils were narrow and their brow was furrowed. He looked and saw the blood on the floor. Whatever that black wave thing had been, it had hit them. He slowly circled the assassin and saw the wound. A straight cut stretching from shoulder to hip, too deep to not be a lethal injury. He could see bone sliced and muscle torn and blood just pumping out of the wound.

"What the..."

Someone else was in the room. He hadn't even seen them enter. Instinctively, he jumped back and put some distance between himself and whoever the new person was, wincing as the plastic in his shoulder shifted and sent another shot of pain through his arm. The stranger, the newcomer, was hidden in the shadow of the room. Tall, he could tell that much. Tall, muscled, not that broad but there was something about this figure that just had so much presence. Yoshimitsu squinted in the dark, trying to make out any features but the shadows were too thick. Had it been that dark before the figure had arrived? He wasn't sure.

"Who are you?"

The figure took a step forward and Yoshimitsu's insides went cold. A mask covered the figure's face, solid black with no holes for eyes or mouth. A black tattoo swirled from the figure's shoulder to wrist, the pattern seeming to move on its own. There was a second where Yoshimitsu just stared and the figure cocked his head. The mask seemed to leak, bleeding an inky liquid over the figure's body that warped and wrapped itself around the muscled arms and bare chest, the tattoo definitely moving and swirling as it was covered. Seconds later and the figure was covered in smooth black armour. There was no glint of light on the metal.

"You can't be here, you're dead!"

There was whispering, voices that weren't loud enough to hear properly. No words, just noise of a millions whispers at once. Yoshimitsu ran forward, the pain in his shoulder forgotten and put all of his strength into a punch. As his fist connected with the figure's chest-plate, the black armour shattered and dispersed and the figure was gone. Completely. There was no trace that there had even been someone stood there. He dropped his his knees, cradling his arms as silence fell on the room.

"Who... was that?"

Bloodwing's voice was strained, raspy and punctuated with loud breaths. Yoshimitsu turned and saw that they had fallen on their side and their mask had slid from their face. A girl. He wasn't surprised. Her features were soft and he imagined she would probably have been quite pretty if she didn't look so pale and weak from blood loss.

"No one. It was no one," Yoshimitsu replied, looking away from the assassin.

"I have a hole in my back that begs to differ," Bloodwing retorted around breaths.

Yoshimitsu approached her and knelt by her head. Her eyes were green, he noticed. He slid his thumb under the band around his wrist, feeling the cold metal. "He said his name was Malevolence. You knew I was coming after you. That's why you had this."

"There was... a rumour that someone would try to stop me," Bloodwing explained. Yoshimitsu nodded and gripped the band, tearing it off. It left a mark around his wrist, some skin broken but otherwise nothing that would inconvenience him. As soon as the metal broke, he could feel his powers return to him. It calmed him, especially after the fight and the armoured figure. "I didn't know it was you, just that someone would be after me."

"I see. Looks like we were both set up, then," Yoshimitsu replied. He made to stand by Bloodwing grabbed his uninjured arm. He wasn't surprised that her grip was weak.

"Can you stay with me? I don't want to die alone."

Yoshimitsu's eyes met the assassin's and he could see it. Resignation. She had been prepared to die when she accepted the job but she had gone through with it anyway. He nodded once and sat down, holding her hand tightly.

~*~*~*~

"Ow."

"Almost done..."

"Ow!"

"You are such a baby."

"You're digging around in my shoulder with a pair of tweezers, I think this warrants a few -- fucking ow!"

Yoshimitsu was trying to keep still. Honestly, he was. He'd taken bullets and swords had broken his skin and he'd even been set on fire once or twice but none of that ever compared to how painful it was to have things removed from his body. Without any adrenaline to numb the pain, he was ridiculously aware of the way Illiana's tweezers were trying to push past muscle and get a grip on the piece of plastic that was still lodged underneath his shoulder. He gritted his teeth as he felt the metal clamp around the end of the knife and shut his eyes against the pain as it was pulled back out of his body.

"There, all done," Illiana said, running her finger over the remaining cut. There was the familiar itching sensation as the muscle and skin knitted itself back together under Illiana's white magic. A few seconds later, the sensation was gone and he experimentally rolled his shoulder. Good as new.

"Thanks, though I think your bedside manner could use some work," Yoshimitsu commented dryly, swinging his legs off the table. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't like me."

"What makes you think I do like you?" Illiana retorted with a grin. She put the tweezers in a bowl of disinfectant and threw the plastic in the bin before turning to him, her expression serious. "So the assassin knew you were coming?"

"Looks that way," he replied, rolling his shoulder again. He flexed and twisted his arm, keeping circulation going and exercising the newly healed muscles. It wouldn't do to get cramp if he got into a fight in the near future. "We were both set up. I knew where the assassin was and she knew where I was. My best guess is that someone wanted us to finish each other off. She was good. Took out my main powers before I even knew what had happened and kicked me up and down the place."

"And no news on this mystery assailant?"

"None. I punched him, he exploded," Yoshimitsu said dismissively. It was all an act. Illiana didn't need to know who the armoured individual was, just that he'd managed to kill the assassin and inadvertently save Yoshimitsu's life. "Colichemarde is down one of their top agents and the mafia is still running the show. Pretty much exactly what I set out to do, just with more death."

He stood up and approached the window, looking out at the city. It was nearly dawn and the first rays of light were visible on the horizon. The people were settling down, the party-goers headed home to nurse their inevitable hangovers, the mafia sleeping with one eye open and the last of the taxis finally coming to a stop. There had been murder, but not the one that had been planned and the rest of the city were blissfully unaware of what had happened. Unaware that there was a psychopathic mass-murderer in armour so dark it looked like it was made out of shadows, running loose and unchecked. Yoshimitsu rested his hand against the glass.

"Malevolence..."Y
 
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