High School RPG: A Maid RPG Variant.

[Hemnon]

Keita is shocked by suddenly hearing amayas voice from out of nowhere, but he was glad to see her none the less.

''Hi Senpai.... Um, Akira-chan is acting a little, how should i say it, weird?'' His eyes where flashing back and forth between the onconcious yuri, Akira and Amaya-san.

[Regalus]

"What dost thou mean?" she inquired, handing the note to Keita befoe turning towards Akira with a raised brow.

[Princess Tracy]

Knox's eyes glaze over, seeming to lose interest and even life by the time the swordsman's swing connects; it strikes true, cleaving flesh yet not that of the innocent girl he'd aimed for. Instead, as the red swirls around them, this place still lacking dimensions, her wound gushes formless grey dust in place of blood, and her flesh discorporates into a swarm of bats. With flaps and squeaks and scratches and a general tempest of hairy little beasts, the bats fly off, obscuring his vision for a moment, though perhaps the swordsman would be more concerned for what he feels in his arms; for in place of Knox's bones, there are only chains, instantly ensnaring, snagging the blade, and no sooner does he free his vision from the swarm than do the chains yank it from his hand, hurtling it with them, beyond the boundary of bars, slamming the blade straight against a wall, the chains holding it in place. A wall... yes, a wall, for at that clashing of the metal against brick, the last of the dank place snaps into being. There's bars in front of him and at either side torches. The swordsman stands in a corridor full of barred rooms - obviously a prison, and within the cell he stands before, locked behind the bars, a cast iron lock holding the door shut, the sword hovers tight against the wall, just out of reach, taunting him. Looking around, he would find both ends of this corridor seem to go on forever, an endless expanse of darkness; there are torches, but they only seem to light when one is within a certain sitance of him, for if he walks in either direction, he would find the torches behind him extinguish and those before him ignite as needed. Each and every one of the cells is completely empty of life; a few seem to contain trinkets but for some reason the twisting red vapour all that should not be seen obscure the fine details of all but his own sword's cell.

At the swordsman's foot, he finds a severed hand - Knox's hand - a dusty stump, clutching a large ring of keys, the ring being larger than her fist and the keys seeming to pop into existance as needed, all iron, save one. Ine special key is plated gold at the handle. The knowledge occurs to him one of these keys would fit the lock, but as he reaches for it, or even looks at it to hard, that last section of Knox's body turns into a single bat, its talons clutching the keys in place of her fingers as it immediately flies off, out of his grasp. Suddenly, there's an odd sound, like a song yet lacking... warmth. A hum, rather feminine, that beckons something. Suddenly, the random circling of the bat seems to gain purose, and it yanks itself and its keys toward the origin of the song, taking with it the keys, their jangling being their only (loud) indication. If he looks behind himself, he would find a door, not like the others; pure, unbroken iron, a crucifix carved into it, a ward. There's daylight beyond it - no, moonlight. It's the outside world, where the moon is still in the sky. It is the way out. And it is bound by the biggest lock of all - a great golden lock in its centre, just above the crucifix, well outside the grasp of all but the tallest of men. Not one of these doors will bend or break or be picked, no matter the force applied. How else would they keep such beasts as this one imprisoned?

If the swordsman follows the jingling of keys and humming of lifeless tune, he finds at some point, the jingling stops, instead giving one last crash of metal on metal as the bat evidently slips through a set of bars. All turns to darkness, the torches extinguishing, and to the left, the bars seem to be missing on the cell, and all is formless purple beyond. No, not purple... blue, a dpressing dull blue, yet red seems to be in all things in this place, a vapour of blood. If he steps within that bar-less cell he finds it seems to go on and on, and as his eyes clear, and adapt to the new light, he finds himself on a hill, craggy and steep, but easily surmounted. The corridor behind him seemed to have lead him out of a cave into this 'other space' though if he looks around, he'll find what seems to be a ruined or perhaps in-construction castle (it being covered in odd decay yet crafting structures making it a hard mix to pick from) on top of the dungeon he was in. Before him, in the sky, there is a small, blue sun, it's presence soothing only to the dead as it painted the realm a muted shade at all times, save for one, small spot... dead ahead, atop the decently inclined hill he found himself on, beyond its jagged rocks, lies a stone structure, no, sandstone, decorated only by tapestries - round and tall and open aired, not unlike a forum. The bat is stil flying towards it, he arriving just in time to see it fly to the top, past a colummn and will out of his field of vision. As he tries to approach though, he is momentarily hindered by bars he almsot certain weren't there before; they stretch to the heavens and share their disgustingly quiet colour. It seems this place, to, is a cell; just a very elaborate one. However, the bars suddenly swing open in one place, crumbling to stationary fog and allowing him passage as a key turns itself in place before vanishing with the bars, insubstantial and only truly banished as they are passed through.

There is no wind in this realm, even whne one runs the air does not resist, as if the lonely god who made it forgot such human experiences as the wind flowing through their hair as they gave chase and made play. Standing at the precipice of the building, the landing is clearly made of some sort of marble, black and white like a chess board. A chair, half lounge sofa, half throne, sits pointed away from teh swordsman without a sword, the only feature of the room, fave for the fact taht teh further one steps into it, the more a slight rining of the ears and reddening of sight are heard and seen, some aura that escaped normal perception - the tapestries that run down and obscure the landscape even a bit turning red and see through as they are stepped beyond. There is a motion, the slight moving of a finger as it becomes apparent as there is someone sitting in the throne, their head rested on their hand, elbow to the arm of the chair. They look out beyond the 'forum', watching the landscape with dispassion, seeming to trace some detail not apparent to the intruder - the throne perhaps offering a better vantage point of the seemingly featureless wastes beyond than the pose of the newcomer.

There's a sigh, followed by a giggle if he makes any adverse noise or gets within 10 yards of the throne from behind, or makes to get in front of the throne). She knows he's here anyway. Any attempt to charge her will only result in the floor seeming to stretch on, him never progressing, until he stops if only from tiring himself out.

Spoiler

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsGr8V1Q_1U&feature=relmfu

http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/...ps97efc784.jpg

"Come, come," a rather alluring voice beckons. It compels wills, such as to drag the man before her as she herself lounges. Coming before her as instructed, whether by choice or compulsion, he finds her. "So you're the one the Warden has Invited. My guest for the evening. Please, perhaps you shall entertain me, perhaps a kindred spirit." Her hand is outstretched like an eagle trainer, but in place of a bird, a bat is perched, teh same one with the keys, but whose toes are now quite free save for its master's finger. Instead, the ring of keys were in her hand. Something about the mind simply couldn't grasp her appearance at first glance, everything else subverted by those peering red eyes, full of want of death and blood, housed in the face of a pale young maiden who thought nothing of them. An ornate dress is what she wears, yet it seems to fit oddly as if she had lost quite a bit of weight - or perhaps, years. She does not seem put ou at all by the more 'genuine' killing intent of her unwilling intruder, rather more amused. "I believe we both have something the other wants. I could bargain with you, but I think a wager would be more entertaining, and it has been so long since I found another. But first, perhaps you would give me your name?" Her voice is like silk, almost disturbingly soothing, but there's something deeper there - a knowing that nothing she says is innocent enough to be taken at face value. She does not shift from her bored-seeming pose at all. Her hair is long and black, sleek. She is a shadow... She is a true vampire. And whoever she is, she isn't Knox

[Ixquian]

Sakura, terrified out of her mind, hesitates for a moment and yet manages to close her eyes in time before Amaya's yokai miasma blinds her. They go through the still broken window, now skylight, a winged contour against the huge circumference of the full moon. As they softly land on what appears to be the school grounds, Sakura clears her throat, gladly holding on to Amaya to stay on her feet.

Akira does not initially react to the pair's approach. It isn't until Amaya mentions the name Yuri, that Akira's eyes open wide, and her eyes go from the yokai to the unconscious girl.

As Amaya doles out her orders, only she notices the aura surrounding Keita... some sort of humanoid creature, a creature of positive energy, tall and graceful, clad in a long robe and a pair of white wings in her back. Through body language, it is self evident that this creature is startled, and standing guard, protecting Keita and Yuri. Keita seems completely unaware of this, so when both look at Akira they're in for a surprise...

'Akira'... has a tarlike substance flowing from every pore in her body, while her eyes shine brightly. In an unearthly voice, she intones.

"Nakatomi Yuri, youngest of the Nakatomi line.... We cannot allow these meddlers to take you away. Tonight, the Nakatomi's fire shall burn free!" A pair of orbs of fire form in her hands... floating away, she hurls twin fireballs towards the group one arching towards Amaya, the other towards Keita!

Dice roll time!


Amaya, depends of the strategy she may rely upon, either a mere physical feat, or some use of her powers.

Keita, if it isn't praying, I hope you have a better idea. Here's a hint:

Spoiler

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The Seraphim has been following your actions all along... Lightly whispering in a language only your kind know... if only you'd care to listen... Maybe she'll hear you if you ask her something?

Meanwhile, back with Knox...

The warrior taken completely out of his element can do little but stumble across the realm Knox has thrown until he reaches the throne room.

"What manner alien trickery is this?"

And charge he does, until his both his physical and mental reserves are exhausted.

"Golden haired demoness... You may have deprived me of my arms but I shall tear you apart with my bare hands, if need be!" These are but empty boasts. He knows full well that he is in no position to threat anybody, but pride won't let him just lie down and listen.

"A wager?" The hirsute man stares down at his seemingly fragile host.

"I am Takeda Noboru. I am a warrior that knows no mercy. My path crossed with the legendary sword and has become one with it. With Muramasa in my grasp, I have put down women and beast alike. You, that are neither, yet both, speak your wager, now."

[Hemnon]

Frightened little keita, shocked by 'Akira's' creepy voice and scared out of his mind from what have been happening the last few minutes, begins to do only one thing he can think of; Praying.

His prayer to god, or whatever it is that's protecting him, was about guarding him and the others from harm and the banishment of the evil in the area.

OOC Roll

Spoiler

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Affection roll
(1d6)[5]x2=[10]

[Ixquian]

Keita feels embraced by dood and purity... like a distant memory. The seraphim protecting them becomes lits up.

The wind picks up... wait... that's not the wind! The seraphim's translucent wings wrap themselves around Keita and Yuri, and the fireball dissolves on impact...

The one going towards Amaya and Sakura is still flying, though.

[Regalus]

Acting on impulse Amaya thrust her arm forward, the rosary beads leaping forward before being grasped by her waiting hand; pulling the two ends together as she formed a single hand sign, bringing the beads to light like shining amethyst jewels. The veteran demon fighter, uttering a single word before the light expanded; engulfing her and Sakura just before the ball of flames collided with Amaya's New kekkai.

Spoiler

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Skill check: (1d6x3)[12]

[Ixquian]

Amaya's Kekkai holds through the fireball's impact, unharmed. Unlike the warped energies creating the pocket dimension you're in, Amaya's kekkai is fluid, potential energy that Amaya's will can shape at will. Will Amaya counter attack? Or still attempt an escape or a peaceful solution?

Whichever it may be the ghastly Akira lands on the lawn, and starts walking towards you, leaving a trail of fire... she's drawing a wide arc around you...

[Regalus]

Amaya hesitated for a moment, considering and alternate method of attack as her usual ones, while more....thorough, were far too graphic too use while under Keita's sight. The young boy was in enough danger as it was, and she wanted to avoid the risk of scaring him if possible. She studied their attackers aura for a moment as she trier to settle on an appropriate counter.

With her decision made she made a new handsign, causing the kekkai's outer layer to ebb and ripple as it gathered at it's ecuator, before focusing at a single brightly glowing spot and launching forward at their attacker as a cascading torrent of spiritual energy AMD pressure.

Spoiler

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Skill check to identify the attacker: (1d6x3)[15]
Skill check to attack: (1d6x3)[15]

[Princess Tracy]

"I would ask your intentions to Nakatomi, Yuri, but I suppose it makes no difference to the course of our game. Though i am curious of her significance to anyone but myself - it feels like there was a party and everyone but myself was invited with all the spectres turning up tonight. Which alters me - Ido believe I smell Akira's blood in the air outside... in the name of a good bit of blood, I would like to cut this short, but don't worry, I'll make time for our games somehow" Not-Knox sits up, securing the ring of keys in the bat's mouth after seeming to snap some of the metal in twain with two of her fingers, leaving a hole which the keys would surely fall from were they at a different angle. "The conditions to this game are quite simple, but I shall explain them slowly for your sake" She points down to her throne. "The one who sits in this throne has a fair degree of control over the realm, but the keys must be used to open the important doors, no matter how feeble the Warden. Without such power, were I to stand to to try and leave to go use the keys, I would surely be torn apart by you~" She has the oddest sing-song voice when describing her own grisly fate. "The wager, the game, really, is simply this. We shall compete over ownership of the keys. The winner of this game, determined who manages to find the key to this cell and seal the other within it, will walk out of here with two prizes; their freedom from this realm... and ownership of that Muramasa blade. Do we have a deal, you old rogue?"

if he tries to grab at the keys or her, he finds space twists to keep them always out of arms reach again and Knox seems to ignore him until he agrees to the deal, where she'll go about continuing/concluding her explanation of the game and begin it

[Hemnon]

Keita was now just sitting on the ground, shivering and afraid. His eyes where closed and he was mumbling to himself, though not the insane kind of mumbling.