In Erring's Rising, laws and rules didn't fly. The only guideline they remotely had within the guild itself was to not betray one another...and anyone who had been in the castle more than three seconds knew there were two unofficial ones to consider, as well. Firstly, Saraphina was the queen and what she said was to be done. Secondly, no one tells Saraphina 'no'.
Birch liked to test these limits, despite his attempts to get in the woman's good graces. He was a difficult somebody that didn't easily adjust to being bossed around when he was in full possession of his free will. The white queen was frivolous and impetuous, and it drove him mad two-thirds of the time. In a sense, they pushed each other's buttons, which made for complicated but interesting interactions. Not telling her no was extremely hard, especially when she constantly requested annoying things of him that would help his goals in no possible way. Of course, she didn't know what his goals were since he played every aspect of his life so close to his vest. It was in his best interest to keep people as much out of his business as he could. The more they knew, the more at risk he was.
At least this task he could do alone. No infuriating clown, no dander-sloughing bear. Birch could enjoy the silence of his train ride to Shirotsume, no allergies in sight. He sat in his empty compartment, seated against the window though he didn't look out of it. Instead, one hand gripped a novel by the binding while the other arm folded over his chest, moving only to adjust his glasses. The headaches had been pesky today, blurring his vision enough to force him to take his spectacles on today's excursion. Other than occasionally having to close his eyes to fight off the aching behind his eyes, the ride was enjoyable. As the train pulled into the station, he snapped the novel shut. The cover was blank, covered in some black paper by Birch himself. Why? Because he was a secretive S.O.B. that didn't want anyone knowing that he enjoyed reading trashy romance novels. As refined as his poise and wardrobe were, such a revelation would be shocking and draw attention, or worse, teasing. Besides, what he did and didn't enjoy fell firmly within his many secrets he never planned on sharing. He tucked the book into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and exited the train.
The terrain of Shirotsume reminded the blond man a little of his home. He'd always be drawn to tall mountains, the same way he was drawn to Mt. Hakobe. Mountains and high places, in general, called to him. His kingdom on the continent of Giltena, far to the northwest. An ocean expanse that seemed impossibly wide separated him from it physically, though there was far more than that keeping him from returning. He'd once had everything, only to be reduced to nothing. He had a long way to go and many trials to triumph before he could even think of reclaiming what was once his. He'd restore his honor. For his family.
Birch's mood couldn't seem to pick between agitated homesickness and the familiar warmth, which just made him more cranky than usual. His stormy eyes shunned the mountains, unable to deal with something so conflicting right now. He had a job to do, one that perhaps would let him blow off a little steam. Since regaining his magic and slowly rebuilding his mastery of it, he felt more comfortable stretching his legs alone with minimal fear of failure. There had been many days and nights spent honing his abilities since his screw up in the pumpkin patch. He felt shaper. More dangerous.
Walking the streets toward the mansion-ridden town proper, it was clear to see what was taking place. There were guards stationed along a temporary fence, armed with guns and scepters. Supplies were stacked in a flat clearing to the left for erecting a more permanent and steadfast wall, but construction on that hadn't begun. From what he understood, this government lapdog from Bosco had some sort of interest in this affluent village. He wanted to fortify it from outsiders. Coming from the background he had, Birch found this highly suspect. What did a non-Fiorian care about this inconsequential place? It held no power in this country. The only thing it might have is money, or maybe even some authorities of Fiore made this place their home? One thing was for sure, he had some sort of stake in it or some angle he was working. Perhaps Bosco was feeling full of themselves and sought a backdoor into Fiore for a gradual takeover. Whatever the case, make no mistake, Birch was feeling no patriotism for Fiore. The celestial phoenix couldn't care less what happened to this country or the people that ran it. It was simply Erring's Rising's job to stamp out anyone in authority that attempted to control with laws.
Something about the Bosco official irked Birch, though. Perhaps it was the nostalgia he'd been feeling earlier causing him to draw parallels because he couldn't help but recall the hostile takeover by traitors to the crown posing as friends feigning assistance. Slinking their way in like snakes, slowly coiling in what seemed like affectionate protection only to slowly be strangled to death. His jaw set. Yes, he was in the mood for violence.
Though he stood out amongst the crowd of wealthy, mostly because he looked like a servant. He'd been moving away from his butler attire now that he had more funds to acquire other outfits, but since he was certain he'd get messy today, he chose to wear something old that was more suited to the dirtier jobs. Couldn't be ruining his new clothes, now could he?
The laws must not have been fully implemented yet, since Birch strode easily through the military blockade with nothing more than a stern, appraising glance. They were on alert for trouble but didn't yet have the authority to restrict access unless there was visible trouble. That made his job that much easier. Following the cobblestone path toward the center, his hues picked up the procession of high-tech cars with Bosco flags circled around an official-looking building at town's heart. Right. Like a snake.
Taking advantage of the dimwitted and uninformed guards, claiming to be one a butler for one of the leaders was enough to gain him access and a mild warning not to interrupt the meeting within. He promised he would wait until it was over, but that obviously was a lie.
Birch, not one for subtlety, wasted no time throwing open the heavy double doors. The group was seated at a round table, the man from Bosco in the center and standing, apparently mid-speech. They all startled and stared at him for a few seconds before starting to bluster. The blond closed the door, waving a hand and covering all the walls with black energy that acted like the vacuum of space. No sound would travel out, so he didn't have to worry about them calling for help, or their screams drawing attention. "Greetings, gentlemen," he started with a cynical bow, though as he straightened, his smirk morphed into a wicked grin. "I would explain why I'm about to do what I have planned, but that would be a waste of energy. Dead men tell no tales, and to be perfectly honest, I don't care if you understand why I'm taking your lives today. In fact, the confusion makes it more enjoyable....and you can't try to argue," he explained with disinterest.
"Shall we begin?"
A short time later his maniacal cackles had subsided and the black glow in his eyes and on his skin retracted back into his body. Birch looked wild. He was resting on his knees in the center of the room, chest heaving from effort and euphoria, hair unkempt and curtaining his face. Four bodied remained seated at the table, though they looked like mummified remains instead of the plump, middle-aged men they had been previously. The other six Shirotsume leaders had more blood outside their bodies than inside, contorted unnaturally and strewn carelessly about. He'd taken his time with the man from Bosco. He'd been the only one ballsy enough to attempt to fight back, pulling out some sort of energy device he swore would instantly destroy him. Maybe Birch would have found out if the man hadn't been so slow activating it. Technological stuff was notoriously fragile, so breaking it had been easy. Taking out his misplaced aggressions on the man, he'd used the pressures of the cosmos to literally crush one of the man's limbs while he was alive to feel it. Then he took a long piece of the table and made an altar-like slab out of it, hanging him on it with some well-placed ice spikes like a dead butterfly on display. Each limb was ultimately removed and pinned near his body. Birch wasn't sure when the man had finally passed away since he'd been so busy riding his vicious high. It'd been a while since he flexed the more refined parts of his magic, and nothing was better than testing the effects on human flesh.
Once he was more composed, he removed the heads from the leaders and broke some chair-legs off to use as pikes, three on each side of Bosco official's display. Yes, he'd leave them like this. Those that found them could draw whatever warnings from it they wished. After cleaning himself up the best he could, he released his vacuum shell and exited the room. Feeling much better, he passed the guards with a friendly wave, but the blood on the white parts of his clothes, in his hair, and smeared on his cheek gave the happenings inside away. "H-Halt!" they called, though they were conflicted as to whether they should try to stop him or dash in to see what happened and maybe render aid. "Mm, I don't think I will. I personally think you should check on them, not me. They weren't looking so well," he rumbled in amusement. In a panic, they ran inside, and he took this opportunity to rush out of town and back to the train before they could get organized and follow.
[1731/1000 || B rank exam complete]
Birch liked to test these limits, despite his attempts to get in the woman's good graces. He was a difficult somebody that didn't easily adjust to being bossed around when he was in full possession of his free will. The white queen was frivolous and impetuous, and it drove him mad two-thirds of the time. In a sense, they pushed each other's buttons, which made for complicated but interesting interactions. Not telling her no was extremely hard, especially when she constantly requested annoying things of him that would help his goals in no possible way. Of course, she didn't know what his goals were since he played every aspect of his life so close to his vest. It was in his best interest to keep people as much out of his business as he could. The more they knew, the more at risk he was.
At least this task he could do alone. No infuriating clown, no dander-sloughing bear. Birch could enjoy the silence of his train ride to Shirotsume, no allergies in sight. He sat in his empty compartment, seated against the window though he didn't look out of it. Instead, one hand gripped a novel by the binding while the other arm folded over his chest, moving only to adjust his glasses. The headaches had been pesky today, blurring his vision enough to force him to take his spectacles on today's excursion. Other than occasionally having to close his eyes to fight off the aching behind his eyes, the ride was enjoyable. As the train pulled into the station, he snapped the novel shut. The cover was blank, covered in some black paper by Birch himself. Why? Because he was a secretive S.O.B. that didn't want anyone knowing that he enjoyed reading trashy romance novels. As refined as his poise and wardrobe were, such a revelation would be shocking and draw attention, or worse, teasing. Besides, what he did and didn't enjoy fell firmly within his many secrets he never planned on sharing. He tucked the book into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and exited the train.
The terrain of Shirotsume reminded the blond man a little of his home. He'd always be drawn to tall mountains, the same way he was drawn to Mt. Hakobe. Mountains and high places, in general, called to him. His kingdom on the continent of Giltena, far to the northwest. An ocean expanse that seemed impossibly wide separated him from it physically, though there was far more than that keeping him from returning. He'd once had everything, only to be reduced to nothing. He had a long way to go and many trials to triumph before he could even think of reclaiming what was once his. He'd restore his honor. For his family.
Birch's mood couldn't seem to pick between agitated homesickness and the familiar warmth, which just made him more cranky than usual. His stormy eyes shunned the mountains, unable to deal with something so conflicting right now. He had a job to do, one that perhaps would let him blow off a little steam. Since regaining his magic and slowly rebuilding his mastery of it, he felt more comfortable stretching his legs alone with minimal fear of failure. There had been many days and nights spent honing his abilities since his screw up in the pumpkin patch. He felt shaper. More dangerous.
Walking the streets toward the mansion-ridden town proper, it was clear to see what was taking place. There were guards stationed along a temporary fence, armed with guns and scepters. Supplies were stacked in a flat clearing to the left for erecting a more permanent and steadfast wall, but construction on that hadn't begun. From what he understood, this government lapdog from Bosco had some sort of interest in this affluent village. He wanted to fortify it from outsiders. Coming from the background he had, Birch found this highly suspect. What did a non-Fiorian care about this inconsequential place? It held no power in this country. The only thing it might have is money, or maybe even some authorities of Fiore made this place their home? One thing was for sure, he had some sort of stake in it or some angle he was working. Perhaps Bosco was feeling full of themselves and sought a backdoor into Fiore for a gradual takeover. Whatever the case, make no mistake, Birch was feeling no patriotism for Fiore. The celestial phoenix couldn't care less what happened to this country or the people that ran it. It was simply Erring's Rising's job to stamp out anyone in authority that attempted to control with laws.
Something about the Bosco official irked Birch, though. Perhaps it was the nostalgia he'd been feeling earlier causing him to draw parallels because he couldn't help but recall the hostile takeover by traitors to the crown posing as friends feigning assistance. Slinking their way in like snakes, slowly coiling in what seemed like affectionate protection only to slowly be strangled to death. His jaw set. Yes, he was in the mood for violence.
Though he stood out amongst the crowd of wealthy, mostly because he looked like a servant. He'd been moving away from his butler attire now that he had more funds to acquire other outfits, but since he was certain he'd get messy today, he chose to wear something old that was more suited to the dirtier jobs. Couldn't be ruining his new clothes, now could he?
The laws must not have been fully implemented yet, since Birch strode easily through the military blockade with nothing more than a stern, appraising glance. They were on alert for trouble but didn't yet have the authority to restrict access unless there was visible trouble. That made his job that much easier. Following the cobblestone path toward the center, his hues picked up the procession of high-tech cars with Bosco flags circled around an official-looking building at town's heart. Right. Like a snake.
Taking advantage of the dimwitted and uninformed guards, claiming to be one a butler for one of the leaders was enough to gain him access and a mild warning not to interrupt the meeting within. He promised he would wait until it was over, but that obviously was a lie.
Birch, not one for subtlety, wasted no time throwing open the heavy double doors. The group was seated at a round table, the man from Bosco in the center and standing, apparently mid-speech. They all startled and stared at him for a few seconds before starting to bluster. The blond closed the door, waving a hand and covering all the walls with black energy that acted like the vacuum of space. No sound would travel out, so he didn't have to worry about them calling for help, or their screams drawing attention. "Greetings, gentlemen," he started with a cynical bow, though as he straightened, his smirk morphed into a wicked grin. "I would explain why I'm about to do what I have planned, but that would be a waste of energy. Dead men tell no tales, and to be perfectly honest, I don't care if you understand why I'm taking your lives today. In fact, the confusion makes it more enjoyable....and you can't try to argue," he explained with disinterest.
"Shall we begin?"
A short time later his maniacal cackles had subsided and the black glow in his eyes and on his skin retracted back into his body. Birch looked wild. He was resting on his knees in the center of the room, chest heaving from effort and euphoria, hair unkempt and curtaining his face. Four bodied remained seated at the table, though they looked like mummified remains instead of the plump, middle-aged men they had been previously. The other six Shirotsume leaders had more blood outside their bodies than inside, contorted unnaturally and strewn carelessly about. He'd taken his time with the man from Bosco. He'd been the only one ballsy enough to attempt to fight back, pulling out some sort of energy device he swore would instantly destroy him. Maybe Birch would have found out if the man hadn't been so slow activating it. Technological stuff was notoriously fragile, so breaking it had been easy. Taking out his misplaced aggressions on the man, he'd used the pressures of the cosmos to literally crush one of the man's limbs while he was alive to feel it. Then he took a long piece of the table and made an altar-like slab out of it, hanging him on it with some well-placed ice spikes like a dead butterfly on display. Each limb was ultimately removed and pinned near his body. Birch wasn't sure when the man had finally passed away since he'd been so busy riding his vicious high. It'd been a while since he flexed the more refined parts of his magic, and nothing was better than testing the effects on human flesh.
Once he was more composed, he removed the heads from the leaders and broke some chair-legs off to use as pikes, three on each side of Bosco official's display. Yes, he'd leave them like this. Those that found them could draw whatever warnings from it they wished. After cleaning himself up the best he could, he released his vacuum shell and exited the room. Feeling much better, he passed the guards with a friendly wave, but the blood on the white parts of his clothes, in his hair, and smeared on his cheek gave the happenings inside away. "H-Halt!" they called, though they were conflicted as to whether they should try to stop him or dash in to see what happened and maybe render aid. "Mm, I don't think I will. I personally think you should check on them, not me. They weren't looking so well," he rumbled in amusement. In a panic, they ran inside, and he took this opportunity to rush out of town and back to the train before they could get organized and follow.
[1731/1000 || B rank exam complete]
