Scene Listing

||

Scene Schedule

||

Scene Schedule RSS

Owner	Pose
Chuyao He	Longqing Town is a mid-tempo town by the standards of the Song Dynasty. It's far from the border with the rival Jin state, and fairly far from the Yangtze river. It's big enough to have a warpgate, but small enough to still have a pleasant measure of quiet for the residents. That's probably why it was chosen as the spot for a retirement home--one of the larger examples in the kingdom, in fact.     The city is flanked by farmland, and the farmland flanked by trees yet to be cleared. The tallest ones, and their siblings atop rolling hills are faintly spied peeking over the town's gabled roofs. The warpgate itself is a commemorative stone arch with cracked but cared-for red paint, which clearly wasn't always a warpgate; the relief of a bygone minister at the top, sheltered by a small gabled roof of glazed tile, is too old even to have been present for the very first Unification. That point aside, the curious gawking you get from passers-by and even the guards posted at the gate implies that this world must have unified fairly recently.     Behind the commemorative arch (maybe a walk of a few minutes) is the official gate of the town, which seems to receive more traffic than the Warpgate, and thus, has more posted guards. Carts, pulled variously by oxen, weatherbeaten farmers or donkeys, trundle in and out. Street peddlers with their wares loaded into wicker baskets and carefully packed bags shout advertisements for their wares over one another and the mild din of the mid-tempo city.     "Welcome to Longqing Town," states the guard at the right, a broadly built man with short black hair, a nose that's known a fist at least once and a streak of dignified gray in his neatly trimmed beard. He and his younger companion are both clad in wide-brimmed padded helmets with red plumes, lamellar breastplates, bracers and boots over blue padded gambesons and trousers. Each holds a simple, unadorned spear, point upwards. "Please leave your name and the reason for your visit with my junior to the left. Enjoy your stay." Neither he nor the younger guard at his left (a rail-thin young man barely out from underfoot of his parents) give the impression they're really going to give a hard time; it seems largely to just be for recordkeeping, so you could tell them just about anything so long as they have it in writing to show to a superior.     A few names (Paladins and Concord) draw only a moment of extra consideration by the guard taking down names. The more experienced one then adds, after the recognition of the first such name: "There is an excellent teahouse which comes recommended from our Minister Guiying himself. You'll find it just across from the Elders' Home. It's all the way down the main street, across the bridge on the right."
Chuyao He	For those members of the Watch who don't happen to overhear the guard, the way is pointed by the occasional eclipsed moon, carved freshly into the bark of trees, onto the sides of unattended casks or scribbled onto the walls of alleys. A beggar sits opposite a hired guard in front of a curio shop, the same age as the more experienced guard at the Warpgate. Alert brown eyes watch from a mop of disheveled medium-length hair as you pass. He stands up, pushing on his walking stick, and disappears around a corner. Five empty pouches are tied together with twine, held under the dirty belt that fastens his black shirt. His gaunt frame and that shirt don't entirely conceal the muscle definition in his back as he stretches his arms on his way. ---     Down a scenic avenue with the occasional tree in tended green medians to break up the scenery, you pass by peddlers and working people in simple but colorful roughspun shirts and trousers, a scholar or two in casual, elegant robes and headscarves, and merchants in street stalls dressed somewhere between the two. You aren't walking for long before you realize that the directions were only somewhat necessary. That is to say, a crowd is gathered on the front steps of the Hundred Cups Teahouse, spilling out into the street in a loose semicircle around the contingent of soldiers at the gate of the Elders' Home.      They wear heavier armor than the guards at the entrance of the town; rather than solely padded armor, they are equipped with a medium armor made from small, interlocked steel pieces riveted to padded cloth and leather backings. Their torsos, shoulders and thighs are protected, without their movement being impeded. Steel winged helmets protect their heads. In contrast to the spears of the guards a ways back, these soldiers have a mixed blend of equipment. There are two rows of five with single bladed, slightly curved sabers sheathed as sidearms at their hips, with heavy crossbows in hand. There is also a compliment of ten spearmen with them, whose spears are much better quality than the gate guards. Each crossbowman also has a pavise--a long, oblong shield made of hardened wood over a steel frame, hooked through their belts by a foldable leg.      Their leader is distinguished from his fellows by some adorning details on his armor; tiger motif pualdrons, a winged helmet trimmed with gold. A red cape matches the plume of his helmet and of his soldiers', which stops just past his knees. One hand grasps a spear of even better make than his fellow soldiers, with a red tassel beneath the finely sharpened head and a flexible wooden haft whose polish can't conceal the nicks of other weapons it's faced and survived. He is currently spitting invectives and demands at another man.      The target of the officer's ire is a man in white shenyi robes, his black cloth boots lightly dusted from travel. The robes have a smart black trim, fastened at the waist by a matching thin rope belt. His face is soft and set in an elegant, polite and almost beatific smile. It is framed by neat, straight locks of long black hair which extends past his shoulderblades, even with some of it in a bun. The bun is held at the top of his head by a silver hair crown that sports a soft-green polished jade stone set in the middle. His bun is further fastened by a polished coral hairpin with an orchid motif carefully carved into its larger end, threaded through the crown. He holds a black fan, folded shut, in his right hand, and its gleam suggests closer to metal than to lacquered wood. "So, it is Lieutenant Cheng after all. This unrefined scholar would hate to have come underdressed. Surely," says the scholar with a thoughtful, eyes-closed frown and a nod, "The gallant officer is aware that homes like these are built for those who distinguished themselves by their service? Some may have even been the Emperor's favorites."      "...!" Cheng is briefly pale, as if suddenly ill.
Meresankh	The warpgate briefly crackles with green energy as Meresankh passes through. She arrives alone, but after passing the guards at the town gate ("Royal diplomacy," is the stated reason for her visit), her cloak shimmers and disgorges a small metallic beetle, which scuttles away into the busy street. Over the next minutes of her walk to the teahouse, several other scarab drones slip from her person. They climb and hover to perch on high places in the blocks surrounding the teahouse and Elders' Home, settling into their positions as watchful eyes of the Queen.     Her surveillance net established, Meresankh finally arrives at the crowded street outside the teahouse. She strides confidently through the gathered townsfolk, nudging here and there with her scepter to make way for her small frame.     "Surely, the gallant officer is aware that homes like these are built for those who distinguished themselves by their service? Some may have even been the Emperor's favorites."     "Indeed," adds Meresankh as she emerges near the standoff. "It is unbecoming of a monarch to abandon his or her subjects when they have served so well and for so long. Let alone to do so in the presence of visiting royalty such as myself. What am I to think of your Emperor, that he would cut his own servants loose so?"
White	White arrives through the warpgate in her usual state of dress, unarmed and closed-eyes, as unimposing as she ever comes. Being gawked at is a trial of will for her, and to make it easier she relies on the power of friendship... Which is to say, stepping between or behind people she knows, and using them as shields against the public's stares. The scenery, at least, is familiar enough to be slightly calming. Even if the buildings and other man-made structures are styled differently, this kind of town isn't unknown to her after spending many years in the Demon Realm. The irony of finding so much dedicated farmland so close together in a place called 'the Demon Realm' isn't lost on her either, but it's an old observation by now. Being greeted by the guards, she freezes for a moment before reaching into her sleeve to produce a small spiral-bound notepad and a cute but cheap-looking orange mechanical pencil- with spider designs on it, of course. Using her halloween-themed product to scribble the short note 'White - Here at request of Mister Guiying', she tears the small slip of paper loose and hands it over like the multiverse's weakest business card. She can't normally write Chinese, but having one of her 'agents' look up a translation online back at home and stiffly copying it in real time is probably good enough for now.      Tea sounds lovely too, even if going to a public establishment for it isn't her idea of a comfortable time. After walking through town and coming upon the crowd, she feels slightly grateful for her relatively neutral feelings on teatime at the present moment; it looks far too crowded to bother right now, but at least she isn't terribly disappointed. The rows of soldiers and their loudmouthed officer don't manage to dent her expression even a little, yet. She'd come expecting normal, armed goons bullying older people, and she got exactly that without any obvious surprises yet. Likewise, she hasn't leapt immediately to intervene, either... It's admittedly hard for her to just shove her way into the argument on a good day as it is, but she's also paying mind to the attitude and bearing of the man who is already interposed to defend the elderly. He naturally slots into the scene, and he seems to have a sense of what to say, much more than she would... So why interrupt him?      For that matter, why jump ahead of anyone else who's along to help? She's happy to settle in at the edge of the crowd, watching things play out and simply being mindful for anyone who goes for their weapon; spinning a small, sturdy web through a tiny portal, between the haft of a spear and the shoulder it's leaned on for example, should they begin to place their other hand on it. Or, sticking the strings of a crossbow back so that it can't fire. Small touches, and easy to miss! She might still stand out for her clothing or hair, here, but she also might just look like an eccentric blind girl.
Riku Asakura	The walk to the warpgate, which led to the main entryway into town, wasn't all that long, and it was nice for Riku to see the quaint town.  When he reaches the soldiers, he offers his name easily enough, and his reason for visiting is sightseeing.  He gets directions to the tea house near the elder's house, so that's something to look forward to! As he walks, he notices Meresankh's arrival alone, and Riku runs up to catch up with her.  "Hello!  It's been a while, Ms. Meresankh." Riku says with the upbeat energy that people who know him would be used to.  "We seem to be going the same way, mind if I accompany you?" he asks, before stopping in the middle of the street because... It appears there is an argument happening there.  There is a familiar voice of the scholar, though he doesn't want to be presumptuous and put a face to a name without confirmation.  He notices Cheng go pale at the words of the scholar, which causes him to crane his neck slightly.   "Is everything alright?" he asks Cheng first. "It's a warm day, please be careful about overexerting yourself," he says at first, before addressing the larger gathering.  "What seems to be the problem here?"
Petra Soroka	Petra is moderately fond of old people! If you asked Petra to decide whether any retirement home should be paved over and replaced with a parking lot (farmland is the parking lots of ancient times), she would pretty consistently say no! The sentimental fondness that society claims to old for the elderly never really seeped its way into her, but she's still, like, chill about them. If an old lady asked Petra to get her cat out of a tree, or for a hand walking across the street, Petra would feel very positively about doing this.     These are the idle thoughts that Petra entertains while taking the path of warpgates necessary to get to this little town. She folds her hands behind her head and watches a group of older people chatting in a warpgate hub, and wonders what her ideological duty to them as a class of people should be: after all, old people tend to be rooted in their accumulated, and usually uncritical, beliefs more than anyone. An old person is essentially *incapable* of change on the scale that Petra expects out of everyone she interacts with, and their base state is usually pretty bad. On the other hand, they're helpless and kind of cute in a creepy way, and more importantly, Petra absolutely adores hearing the product of experienced stories and interestingly led lives.     Perhaps, Petra concludes, she can be an ally to the elderly today. This is an old folks' home; they'd probably *love* to tell stories if they don't get bulldozed to the ground. Maybe Petra can hang out with some old people. "Welcome to Longqing Town,"     "Hey, dude." Petra casually-- maybe too casually to be understood-- raises a hand in greeting to the guards. She's actually shortly off of a workout herself, having overslept in the morning, but her workout clothes are impeccably suited for fighting if that's what it comes down to. She's wearing a black compression top and her favorite olive harem pants, with a sporadically-buttoned short sleeve shirt over the binder for modesty.     She hums to herself cheerily while filling out her name-- when she touches the pen to paper, she briefly hesitates and glances around for a second time. Reaffirming that these people are not Korean and so she can't be a smug little shit by writing her record in Hangul, she settles for English instead, and then gives another friendly gesture to the guard before heading off. "See ya. Maybe if I've got time I'll check it out."     And then, guys with spears! And crossbows! And shields! And sidearms! And a stuffy goon-boss! Naturally, it's an easy assumption that the people holding weapons arranged in rank and file facing towards a retirement home are the bad guys, and Petra strolls up to the confrontation between the two in front, inviting herself into the conversation without hesitation.     "What's up, guys? What's the chatter about? Anything you need a hand with?"
Futaba Nuki	Futaba is no stranger to gawking, and she even seems to revel in it judging from how she's grinning from ear to ear coming into Longqing Town. Sure, she hasn't really done much here to merit it just yet, but making an impression with the locals will have to happen once she knows what she's here for. She's dressed in her usual track jacket and shorts combo, and that flowing red scarf of hers is noticeably flowier today for those that have seen it before. She needs to fit the locale, after all, so she's opted for a thicker, wider scarf made of a thinner material to really let it billow behind her at even the slightest breeze. "Thanks for the warm welcome. Name's Futaba Nuki. Ninja, hero, Paladin." She introduces herself with a quick tap of her against the ground, shifting her gaze from the first guard to the junior taking notes. "I'm here on some official business with Governor Guiyin. Nothing too crazy from the sounds of it, but not the sort of thing I can talk about too much 'til it's all set an' done. Somethin' like a surprise party, y'know?" On the way to the Elders' Home, Futaba does seem at a slight loss about something. "IF this place is supposed to be filled with older folks... Y'think I should tone it down a bit?" She asks her fellow Elites as she gestures at her hair (violently orange), her tail (excessively large), and her clothes (fully casual). By the time she reaches the Elders' Home, meanwhile, the ninja has already changed her clothes, shifting into a more locale-appropriate and loose ru jacket (white) and longer skirt (maroon) while keeping her tail neatly hidden away from view. Coming up from behind the soldiers, Futaba laughs freely as she approaches the two most in the rear and center, ready to throw her arms around their shoulders like she already knows them or something. "Celebrating something? Oh, this is that Elders' Home I've been hearing about! Good place to catch up on some history from some local greats..." Sighing wistfully, she leans in to try and get a reaction out of those two soldiers she's closest to in particular rather than aiming for their Captain or the elder. "So what's the occasion?"
Regulus	Regulus has spotted the missive from 'Little Bastard' and, of course, sees this as an opportunity to really impress the Watch. Regulus herself isn't sure what she thinks about The Watch just yet, as she's been a member for less than a week, but if she makes a good impression with them then Vertin would probably have more leeway to do what she needs to do and maybe she can get her little thing back now that it's been stolen (back) by the Foundation! Of course she didn't get the pigeon herself, she just read people discussing it on Watch systems. A little easier for her to find things about it through that than pigeons when she's still spending much of her time acclimating to a suitcase. But apparently she can get Vertin to let her out by the Warpgate. How is she going to get back in? Well that's a problem for future Regulus. Hopefully she won't have to sit outside the suitcase waiting to be let back in. Of course, Regulus is also not exactly a known member of the Watch outside of it either otherwise she would've asked about Lilian's little thing today! But she kept her mouth shut and just kept wondering about it inside her head. Rita told her about it and that it was bigger. Something more powerful than the Philosopher Stone? Could be. But she suspects getting Lilian to reveal its secrets is going to be tougher than she can know. Regulus doesn't want to tell a guard her reason for visiting--mostly because she doesn't want to wait in a line or anything, but also because if this was going to be something fully in conjunction with the authorities, Little Bastard would've just put out a general request rather than contacting people by pigeon and asking the Watch directly. So, invisible, she blends in with the group moving in so she doesn't have to deal with any bureaucracy. ''There is an excellent teahouse which comes recommended from our Minister Guiying himself''. But ultimately she is the type of sailor who lets the wind guide her sails. Her gaze settles on the beggar. APPLe murmurs quietly from her bag. "That man left as soon as we arrived." Regulus's eyes (invisibly) sparkle. That's the way! She follows after and-- --quickly finds herself by the Teahouse where there already is a crowd. Crowds are nice for Regulus to mill around unseen. Gosh, she thinks, she hasn't seenm people wearing all this armor before in her life. And she has to assume that the soldiers here are the ones trying to seize the land. She immediately assumes that Lieutenant Cheng is the one acting on behalf of the senior citizens' home and so... She passes around behind him before continuing on back towards the rear of the guards. An invisible APPLe murmurs, "Three, two, one..." in Lieutenant Cheng's ear. As Regulus rolls a little ball across the floor which bursts open spraying purple smoke everywhere.
Hiromi	A rarity, but here arrives Hiromi, the Archwolf, some eight feet of height and all of supernaturally imposing presence, accompanied. The one with her should be closer to half her height, but looks even smaller, by some trick of scale fooling the senses. A short and wheat-blonde haired shrine maiden, or close enough to one that the (incorrect) Japanese inference is reasonable. Wide, detached sleeves, a long red skirt that otherwise resembles hakama, and a white, folded top, similar enough to a sleeveless gi, matching long, toed socks set into low geta with wide teeth. Tall ears and a wagging tail match the rest of her hair, as well as short but bushy eyebrows. While Hiromi moves mainly her eyes, her companion moves her entire body, craning her neck in a mostly vain attempt to see over and past people, and pointing things out in rapid fire fashion.     "Look, look! I wonder who that is." Pointing to the relief above the warpgate.     "You can see the woods from here, can't you? What's all the rest? Eh? Farms?"     "Don't they all have spears? Shouldn't I have brought mine?"     No one else hears an answer in words, though Hiromi did breathe something through her teeth. "Oh, it's fine? If you're sure -- well, of course I don't need to, but I'll be left out? Oh, next time? Okay, it's a promise!"     "I'm Chie!" Pronounced as two syllables. "And THIS is the Archwolf, Hiromi! The Archwolf is here to judge the worthiness of your leaders, and I'm here to speak." She resisted saying 'to play,' but the barely restrained energy is visible.     Chie stands proudly, arms raised up high and to the sides, looking first to the guards asking her name, and then back up and over her shoulder toward Hiromi, who lets out a breath. Chie reacts by lowering her arms, drawing her stance tight, feet together, and performs a millimeter-perfect salute with back straight, fist to palm. She's still smiling when she does. Hiromi takes a step, lightly scraping earth beneath her foot.     "Oh, tea! I see! Let's go have tea. Should we? We should? Okay!" They continue on.     "More spears! Oh, I know, I know, but..."     "Who's that? He looks important, doesn't he? What's an 'unrefined scholar'? Who refines scholars?"     "Hey, you!" Oh dear. That language is rather rude, but it's addressed more to the crowd, a general 'people in the way of the entrance.'     "Whatever the trouble, explain this!" No hesitation, no fear. "Whose homes are these, and why are you standing in the street?" Hiromi begins to lean in, moving from 'looming' to in-frame.     "And where is the tea?"     Finally, the Archwolf speaks. "Scholars grind themselves against each other with words. Some grind away their grime. Others are coated in it. 'Unrefined,' a hermit."
Foundation Scions	Matilda Bouanich, delegate and (surely) soon-to-be Investigator for the St. Pavlov Foundation, is the type to swing her arms cheerily as she walks, palms outstretched towards the ground. She's excited- her first time off-world, and it's for something important, nothing can take the spring out of her step! Blonde, of average height, and dressed in a bland grey uniform consisting of sweaters, overall-ish skorts, and a red striped tie, she's looks something like a British schoolkid on a field trip- and couldn't be more unlike her associate. In garish retrofuturist vinyl and chrome, Mesmer Jr. is more like a time traveler from the future who forgot to bother with blending in at all. At her hip is a science-fiction raygun, with tesla coil loops around a spherical chrome point- whether it's a toy or not would be a hard guess, and gadgets strapped to her hip and headband beep occasionally.     In preparation for this (considered by their superiors to be) minor task, Matilda took it upon herself to do two things: ne, procure an especially nice field satchel by which to carry her unwieldly crystal ball out into the field, which is now slung over her back, and two, to query that self-same crystal ball for helpful mission details. In an attempt to aid with embarrassing a rival, she's sought supernatural insight into who that rival may be, and secret, personal insecurities and weak spots- it's not gossip if it's possibly useful! 'Please leave your name and the reason for your visit with my junior to the left.'     "Mademoiselles Matilda Bouanich and Mesmer Jr, on only the most official business of the St. Pavlov Foundation," A term which means most certainly nothing to the guards, "*And*, of course, the Commonwealth's own Paladins, concerning an urgent diplomatic request of local authority." Matilda, a girl in only her late teens, must seem absolutely ridiculous stating something like that so pridefully. Is any of what she said true? Sort of! Probably!     Mesmer Jr doesn't say anything to her compatriot's blabbering, but she glares daggers, arms crossed, at either of the guards should they do as much as look her way for additional clarification. This task gets her out of half a shift- that's fine, but there's only so much she's eager to put up with on what she's already mentally treating as time off. . . .     The cluster of soldiers is certainly a worrying sight! Mesmer Jr. looks more obviously stressed about that than Matilda, and mutters at her, not quite under her breath, "If this becomes an incident, you've already volunteered to write up the report." "Hein? But I did no such thing- oh, but, it certainly would be of no issue to me to do so, even if all things go so smoothly." Mesmer Mission Success! That's more work she won't have to do. She yawns.     Then, as if she caught something on the air, "Mesmer? I think I sense something slightly familiar, arcane fluctuations of... hmm...." "Say so if you figure it out." "Of course." She stays still a moment, her nose wrinkled up like a cat's, something or other on the tip of her tongue- but Matilda loses the train of thought. 'The gallant officer is aware that homes like these are built for those who distinguished themselves by their service?'     Matilda's heart twists a bit more sympathetic- she already was, to the whole premise, it's heartbreaking to kick someone out of their home, but a small detail such as the individual being a veteran, dredges up the thought of her own grand-père. She pouts in the general direction of the lieutenant, arms on her hips- that'll show him! A stare of great disapproval!
Petra Soroka	"IF this place is supposed to be filled with older folks... Y'think I should tone it down a bit?"     Petra rolls her eyes at Futaba, quickly working her way through a cigarette before she'll lose the chance. "Yeah, you might give them a heart attack. Try turning into a couch made of meat instead." "And THIS is the Archwolf, Hiromi!"     "Oh. So it is." As always, the Archwolf's presence is staggeringly attention-grabbing, and Chie's announcement does less to ensure Petra notices her than to give her the response space necessary to recover from having noticed her. Especially in an environment as well-suited to the Archwolf as this, Petra can't help going (metaphorically) ears-flat and tail-low to get out of her way.     Chie is someone on Petra's wavelength, though. Among the Archwolf'd miko, this is one Petra hasn't personally met yet, and Petra is extremely in tune with the unspoken 'play'. "Yo. I'm Petra."
Chuyao He	It is unbecoming of a monarch to abandon his or her subjects when they have served so well and for so long. Let alone to do so in the presence of visiting royalty such as myself.     "T-that such a visit was to occur..." Cheng's eyes flit from side to side, as if looking for a place to duck away without being willing to give away by his body language that he's been taken off guard. Meresankh made a serious and evidently credible accusation, which Cheng knows he could be on the hook for. Moreover, the crowd does, too. 'The lieutenant behaves boorishly!' 'What else is new?'     Of interest to Mersesankh is a figure in the alley behind the tea house. The haggard beggar from before perches atop a staff, maintaining his balance as easily as if it were a chair. It lets him peer at the commotion through the windows of the teahouse, while the shade prevents him from easily being seen by someone without her means of surveillance.     Losing the crowd and his resolve seems to be exactly where the scholar wants Cheng. The soldiers' eyes are on him, too, which makes them susceptible to White's sabotage.     "I, a lowly scholar of the late generation, humbly greet the foreign ruler." He bows deeply at the waist, fist in palm, head down--and after some jeers from the crowd, Cheng and their soldiers pay the same respect. Some of the spearmen tug curiously at their spears, but none of them can gauge the reason for the strange resistance. "It would do me a great honor to assist her majesty as guide. But of course, there is the issue of my impasse with Lieutenant Cheng." Anything you need a hand with?     "The foreign sister with the friendly air and familiar voice is kind to offer," says the scholar with a quietly beaming smile and a nod of his head. "It's only a minor misunderstanding, between the caretaker inside and the Lieutenant, who both well display their sense of duty. I am sure this matter will be resolved quickly."     Cheng looks like he might burst a blood vessel; all of the trappings of authority are on him and around him, but he loses it by the minute. The scholar's courteous answer to Petra and its simultaneous concession towards him is salt in the wound. Is everything alright? What seems to be the problem here? So what's the occasion? Whatever the trouble, explain this!     "We, the soldiers of General Gao's mansion, have arrived to carry out the seizure of this land for the public good!" That's Cheng's answer, given over his shoulder. The people in the crowd don't seem to agree on the motives of his orders.     Riku, Chie and Futaba get a couple of different answers from the crowd, but they paint a pretty accurate picture of what's going on! 'This cad of the army says he's here to seize the Elders' Home in the name of the Emperor!' 'Pah! As if the emperor didn't order it built fifteen years ago. That land already serves the public good!' 'The scholar means well, but is it wise to provoke the army?' 'They probably just want another armory away from the front. Let them build it somewhere else!' 'Back and forth for nigh on thirty minutes! Most exciting thing that's happened here all week! Well, except maybe her...' 'You dog! 'Ow! I was only looking, good wife! OW! Joking, I mean!'     Hiromi does draw a few eyes and tends to part crowds around her. And where is the tea?     "It would be my delight to treat the foreign sisters with the fairylike mien to a cup, after this minor misunderstanding is cleared up." The Understanding parses what he says as 'fairy,' but listeners get the sense it's not talking about the Oberon and Titania kind; rather, it seems to be a catchall for supernatural beings.
Chuyao He	"If I, a third party, could but give the Lieutenant's orders even a passing glance," the scholar continues, "I would of course confirm that the Emperor has provided alternate lodgings for these honored elders. The caretaker inside--whose admirable concern for his charges blinds him to the obvious truth which the Lieutenant and I know--could then be convinced to gather up the elders and their things and take them from this place, which would make your job easier. As well, a neat, tidy report for your General Gao, utterly without incident. This untalented scholar is familiar with your career, Lieutenant, a rising star in General Gao's mansion--it would be a pity to see it snuffed out by a moment of indiscretion."     Matilda's supernatural insight reveals that General Gao is the rival of Governor Guiying. Where the governor himself is crooked (mostly for the benefit of the people) the general works on pure self-interest. He is a small-minded and petty man whose appetite for coin, wine and women is an open secret. Power is, for him, the end goal; to have it over others and have it known is his driving ambition, moreso than anything to do with that power. What loyalty he has to the people and the Emperor, he has only to advance his own standing within the state of Song.      A bully who likes the company of other bullies, he runs his portion of the army like a state-sponsored mafia. He is unfortunately competent, and demands the same of his soldiers, while encouraging their worst traits at the same time. He loathes losing the most, going so far as cutting his ties with others he perceives as losers lest he be tainted by association. That must be why Governor Guiying asked the Paladins and Concord here; he knew that a public defeat of the general's forces during a highly suspect operation would sting.     The crowd murmurs their assent and variegated thoughts, meanwhile, regarding the scholar's argument. 'What a pity indeed!' 'A pity? That lout? Pah!' 'The young scholar raises a good point...' 'Took him long enough!'     Cheng scowls, taking the point well enough and eager to save face. The swiftness with which he shoves his orders into the scholar's empty hand is belied by the subtle tremor in his voice when he barks, "Here! All accounted for."      The scholar bows his head in thanks, then stows his fan in his sleeve, takes and unfurls the scroll. Poring over it right to left, top to bottom, he utters a 'hm.' Then his brow lifts. "Lieutenant Cheng, do you see this stroke here?" He turns the scroll towards Cheng--and also towards his men, the gathered Elites, and the crowd. Cheng makes a vocal flinch, his body still as a rock. He got talked into giving over something he shouldn't have.
Chuyao He	"It's different from the others on this same character, used elsewhere," continues the scholar. "I'm afraid that someone has modified your orders. Quite inexpertly, in fact. If this read 'Home,'" he says, pointing out a character with an unusually thick line like a child trying to turn an F into an A on a report card, "The strokes here would not be nearly as thick. Moreover, who would call it 'Home Elder Longqing' and not 'Elders Home, Longqing?'"     "W-what!" Cheng barely stops himself from taking a step backwards.     "Based on the unaltered strokes, this unrefined scholar believes the order for land seizure was originally issued to Marquis Zhang--" Two measured flicks of his wrist cool him, eyes closed, his beatific smile replaced with a thoughtful frown. "Whose lands are rather far from Longqing Town," he says, eyes opened to a narrow. "About sixty li that way, give or take." The scholar motions west with his head. "This is the work of either someone who is very unskilled, or someone confident that they won't be caught. As a loyal soldier, you'll return posthaste to inform General Gao of the forgery, yes? In the meantime, I'll take the evidence to the local Crime Investigation Bureau. It's fortunate that you didn't make the mistake of--"     "I've indulged this farce long enough Move or die!" Cheng spits, thrusting with the spear from a cold start, aimed at the scholar's head.      The fan drops out of his long sleeve into his palm in a second. "Tss!" The clang of metal on metal announces the meeting of the now-unfurled fan with the head of the spear. In the same, fluid motion, the scholar aims an advancing push kick at Cheng's collarbone, as the latter brings the spear back for another thrust.     No movement is wasted; as the impact sends Cheng awkwardly stumbling backwards for solid purchase, the thrust goes wide, and the scholar, acting with wild, unblinking confidence, advances into a spinning back strike with the fan. Thus, scarcely after his foot is planted from the push kick, the hard corner of the scholar's fan, held in a reverse grip, strikes Cheng squarely in the chin and sends him tumbling down the stairs. "As a loyal soldier," the scholar repeats, "You'll return to General Gao's Mansion. Yes?"     "Your style," Cheng grins, the expression toothy like snarl even as the tumble got dirt from the stairs and road on his face. Getting back to his feet, he laughs. "I think I know it. No! I do! You are a dog of the Five Virtues School, who dares to show his face here!" He hurls accusations with a pointed finger. Why bother to dust himself off when he can dirty his opponent just as easily? "Villain! Cheat! Liar!" Each accusation is punctuated with a point up the stairs at him. "You thought you could turn us, the loyal soldiers of the Emperor, away with your deception! You thought you could poison the minds of the people!" A swept hand gestures towards them, though his attention remains on Chuyao. "You are skilled, to get past my spear--perhaps even one of the blackguard Four Sages! People of Longqing Town! We, the loyal soldiers, will handle this evildoer!"
Chuyao He	A stunned murmur of uncertain emotion passes like lightning over the crowd. 'One of those dreadful Sages, here!' 'Oh! And I nearly believed him...' 'Could it be?' 'He doesn't look like a liar...' One cry rises above the rest. 'Cut out his tongue!'      The scholar's fan unfurls, not with the expected fwip of fabric but with the sharp click-scrape of metal. The black steel brise fan sports a hammered silver leaf overlay, painstakingly applied over the fan's individual sticks, depicting a story in three parts. From right to left, a club-wielding giant chases the sun, draining two rivers to quench his thirst. Unable to catch the sun or quench his thirst, the giant dies, his club becoming a great forest around his body. The flat outer edge looks razor sharp, and the space between the ends of the sticks is angular and notched, as if intended for catching weapons between them.      "I am the villain, Chuyao He!" The scholar's sudden shout has the soldiers and the crowd alike on edge, even as his voice wavers with his next admission. "Good people of the state of Song lost their homes because I stayed silent. Wicked and incompetent ministers earned their posts because I looked away." His eyes shut tightly--holding back tears, his mouth pulled into a grimace.     "You admit your crimes?!" Cheng sneers.      The crowd jeers in the lieutenant's favor, now. 'Brand him!' 'Beat him to death!' 'To think...'      The scholar doesn't care. "Those and more! My silence was an open door for unscrupulous tutors to teach a generation to cheat! My blindness made common bandits and Jin pillagers as bold as the three armies!" He shakily inhales, and slowly opens his eyes, watery and sorrowful but determined. "I cannot undo what I did. ...But I can prevent you from making a mistake which will harm these people greatly. Many are frail in their old age and will take ill on their way back to their homes--homes which may not recognize their faces, so long they've been gone. Lieutenant Cheng, you know better. Return to your General Gao, report this forgery and leave these elders alone!"      "Kill him!"     "Sir, the townspeople...!"      "The wise will not spread unfounded accusations! The unwise will lose their heads! Open fire!" The crossbowmen hesitate. "NOW!"
Chuyao He	The first five crossbowmen plant their pavises; the five behind plant theirs at their flanks. The ten spearmen spread out in a protective semicircle to further guard the flank. Chuyao lifts his fan, planted defiantly on the steps...      ...only for a volley of boltless triggerpulls to ensue. There's no time for confusion among the ranks, however--the soldiers don't wait for the bolts to find their marks, immediately switching places with the five crossbowmen behind them to 'reload,' or in this case, 'repair.'      Their work is made immediately more difficult by Regulus' smokebomb, which not only obstructs their ability to get White's webs off of the strings, but to aim at Chuyao in the first place. Moreover, the spearmen can't all lift their spears, forming holes in the defensive pincushion they've made.      Your opponents are disciplined, yes--but on the backfoot. Chuyao leaps down the stairs to land just ahead of a thrust from Cheng's spear, deflecting a rapid series of subsequent thrusts with swats of his fan, even as the spear's flexible haft and bright tassel make them difficult to track.
Riku Asakura	Riku listens to the townspeople and the two opposing sides in this conflict.  "You're trying to take land from the elderly..?" He says agast and firming his resolve to help the people against the soldiers.  He grabs the Fusion Riser, a device that lets him transform into Ultraman Geed, but he doesn't quite yet transform.   He listens to the accusations, or rather, the Scholar points out the problems in the paperwork, which works up the leader of the army forces.  It sounds like for a moment, this might turn around without a fight.  However, the Lieutenant strikes and is rebuked by the Scholar.  Which things turn on the Scholar rather quickly, as his old crimes are brought up to try to win the public's opinion. Worse, he orders the archers to fire.  It's too soon; he can't transform fast enough to protect the civilians.  Thankfully, White's silk jams their triggers, forcing them on the back foot while the rest of them get a chance... "I go!" he says and clicks the capsule of Ultraman.  "You go!" he says and once more clicks a second capsule, that of Ultraman Belial.  "Here we go!" he brings the Fusion Riser down on the top of each capsule.  "Time to get ready!" he says and brings the Fusion Riser across his chest and pulls the trigger.  "GEEEEEEEEEED!" ULTRAMAN ULTRAMAN BELIAL ULTRAMAN GEED PRIMITIVE! Geed grows to the size of about a house, aiming to keep things collateral-free as best as he can, but right now his focus is on the Archers and the spearmen defending them.  He steps forward, aiming to swing his arms in a powerful swipe to try and knock them off their feet and draw their fire instead of arrows flying into the crowd.  He hopes it scatters the crowd as well.
White	White realizes there's kind of a startling amount of force present here, ostensibly to defend an Old Folks Home. Hiromi in particular (even though Chie is being louder) stands out, after the last time she observed her fight from afar. That is not to say Chuyao He's efforts go unnoticed though; the verbal trickery, the angry retorts, the impulsive violence and calm reflection, it all feels exactly like *that* kind of movie! It's not really her genre, strictly speaking, but who hasn't seen a martial arts movie and done some goofy hand-motions afterward? And a fighting-fan no less... She thought those were mostly speculative, not actually used!      His efforts at disarming the rest of the conflict by addressing the soldiers after embarrassing their leader, too, feels a bit like something she's attempted before. It doesn't tend to work for her, of course, but... It's cool, admittedly. A shamed (forbidden?) style of martial arts is even involved, so it's kind of hitting all of the right notes at once, and after her minor webweaving is complete she almost forgets she's here for work, not to watch.      But then, the crowd turns. It feels almost like she's immediately jixned it with her inner musings... Even as Chuyao attempts to take responsibility and plea emotionally, the crowd remains against him, and a small indistinct hope for peaceful resolution flickers out. The sabotaged crossbowmen find her handiwork, and she's glad she bothered to take advance measures, but...      They had tried to fire them anyway. The result didn't make her less annoyed. She vanishes from her original bystanding position and appears in the midst of their normally quite reasonable formation, right around the time the smokebomb is going off. It looks a little like she did it on purpose, but it's not the case; she's fortunate that she can still make out movements and outlines in the smoke even with the obstruction, but identifying individuals is much harder without the Evil Eye, and she can't touch-free weaken them either. So... She bends her left knee, springs back to full extension, and sweeps her right leg in (most of) a circle from the middle of the crossbowmen, taking out her annoyance by bowling soldiers over with sheer superhuman force. Their armor is probably strong enough- and her technique poor enough- that she's not going to be instantly killing them with such a broad sweep... But it's still a bit like getting backhanded by a gorilla. That only takes her a moment, and she senses Riku transforming to do more or less the same thing, but more thoroughly. She teleports out of the smoke and onto his shoulder, perching there to get a better view from outside the smoke and try to narrow down the source, even as she's keeping an eye on Chuyao's fight with the Lieutenant. It's not for her to intercede in the hero's fight with the villain of the episode, after all... She just wants to make sure nothing irreversible happens. The scholar had made a good impression on some of her friends, and she recognizes his mannerisms now; she'll intervene if it looks like he's about to get himself killed, at least.
Meresankh	Hiromi does not escape Mersankh's notice, either. Stepping nearer to the Archwolf as the argument on the street continues, her mouthplate lights up again as she speaks. "You have a monarch's bearing about yourself as well. Where do you reign?"     "I, a lowly scholar of the late generation, humbly greet the foreign ruler. It would do me a great honor to assist her majesty as guide."     Meresankh nods in glad affirmation of the scholar's gesture of respect. "Queen Meresankh, of Oryx. The pleasure is mine."     As the conflict escalates to an interrogation of evidence, Meresankh's attention turns to the man in the alley. She keeps her nearest beetle at a distance, for now - someone as attentive and poised as this supposed beggar might easily detect a spy up-close, even one so diminutive.     Meresankh is deeply accustomed to the sort of verbal mudslinging that ensues after the first brief physical altercation, and so is not shocked at the news that this scholar is some variety of infamous sage. After all, she's a sort of infamous sage herself, albeit of a technological inclination.     Chuyao He reveals his identity, accepts his reputation - which earns him a couple points in Meresankh's eyes - and speaks of the nation's ills. Bandits, cheaters, such is no way to run a society. If the state is truly so compromised, she wonders, is the scholar not perhaps in the right?     The lieutenant's order for all-out attack makes up her mind. A silent command to her scepter causes the rod of office to extend a blade of translucent energy from the orb at its top. She leaps forward, not as impressive a jump as Chuyao's but enough to place her near the scholar. "This man has offered his hospitality to me," she barks at the lieutenant, "it is my duty as Queen to protect him as he would protect me!"     Positioning her scepter-glaive defensively to bat aside incoming spear-thrusts, Meresankh raises her free hand which begins to crackle with lightning. After a brief charge-up, she unleases a dozen or more strands of electric current in a rough arc ahead of her, sweeping over the formation. She's not here to cause a bloodbath; rather, her electricity is tuned only to disorient or frighten the soldiers and thus relieve the lieutenant of his backup.     At the same time, she orders one of her spy-scarabs to buzz around the man in the alley, intentionally clueing him in to his being observed in an attempt to provoke him into action. Whatever side he'll take, Meresankh wants him involved sooner rather than later.
Petra Soroka	"The foreign sister with the friendly air and familiar voice is kind to offer,"     This guy's voice should be familiar to Petra in turn, but that isn't what triggers Petra's memory. No, there's something much more concrete than the varying uncertainties of one person's voice in the vast swathe of the multiverse: the number of *men* who would call Petra 'sister' is *astonishingly* low.     Petra blinks and recoils, flicking her cigarette away and stamping it out without looking as if that'll make it invisible. "Y-you...?"     Since there's a guy from the radio band here already who seems to know considerably more about what's going on than Petra, she decides to just take him at face value that the argument will be over soon. She thumbs over her shoulder towards the building across the street. "Wanna chat over tea after this, then?"     Petra quietly mouths 'sisters with fairylike mien' to herself while Chuyao talks. Her mind wanders to poetry, and then from there to Ash, and sticks on them for a bit. While rotating the very first line they texted to Petra earlier, Petra abruptly remembers how Ash backhandedly complimented her outfit-- similar to the one she's wearing now-- when they met up in person. She looks down at herself, and then for no reason at all her mind snaps into clarity, and she reassesses the way that Cheng is gradually puffing up with steam and Chuyao is just trying to diplomatically poke holes into him before he explodes.     It's definitely going to be a fight, actually. Petra nods with renewed understanding. "Based on the unaltered strokes, this unrefined scholar believes the order for land seizure was originally issued to Marquis Zhang--"     "Oh, well, that explains the misunderstanding!" Petra claps her hands, a little lazily. Her ass cannot read that note. She's starkly aware that she is one of the only white women here. "Obviously Lieutenant Cheng was just misled, and he was trying to do the job he was given. Glad that's all cleared up!" "I've indulged this farce long enough!"     Petra doesn't open her eyes from the fake-relieved smile she was making, hands still held together in a stalled clap. She politely steps back to let the first exchange of blows happen in front of her, and then sighs. "I am the villain, Chuyao He!"     This isn't a revelation to Petra, neither part of it, but his eagerness to soulfully declare it in front of a crowd, knowing that it gives enemies justification to attack him and allies a reason to turn him away after he saves them, solidifies an image in Petra's mind. Specifically, this being the image of 'sincerity', as Chuyao is trying to live it now-- and it looks a lot like what Petra used to do. She clicks open the bottle on her hip with a finger, and a mass of Silver flows out and into her palm, stretching into a smooth metal quarterstaff.
Petra Soroka	"You admit your crimes?!"     "That's the first step of improving yourself, isn't it? For actually living a virtuous life, it's better to have done shitty things and then admit to them than it is to do them and then immediately turn around and point blame at someone else to get heat off yourself." Petra shrugs. "When your General ends up being a dirty name in everyone's mouth, and people boo you for working for him, will you admit to it too?"     Petra leaps into the smoke when the bomb goes off, landing with one leg forwards to follow through with another step that brings the high end of the staff sweeping down towards the crossbowman on the end. With a slight telekinetic assist, the morphmetal staff hooks through the arm of the crossbow and keeps it from building tension, and she keeps momentum into a kick to knock the shield down and step inside the barrier.     Once Chuyao is within speaking range, she adds on to her earlier speech, "Though, obviously, taking fault for something only means anything if you follow it up with doing the right thing after, whether or not people like you for it."
Hiromi	Though it's Hiromi who should be able to easily recognize her, it's Chie who reacts most animatedly to Petra's presence.     "Hi, Petra! I'm Chie." She did already say that. "Oh, I know your name. From the--" Moments to put together the memory, punctuated with fist to palm in an inverse gesture from her earlier salute, "--the trials at MOUNT FEATHERMAN! Sumi gave a report on everyone there." This is an apparently positive first impression.     It's in-between everything else happening that she needs to mess with everyone else here, just before a fight breaks out. Among those -- Regulus is invisible, Meresankh is a skeletal robot, Riku is a normal guy(?), and Futaba is a tanuki. The choice here being obvious, Futaba briefly finds a little (partly literal) wolf (literally) sniffing after her. She hid her tail, and that's weird! Weird things require investigation. Where'd it go?     She feels like she saw some weird bugs nearby, too, but that investigation is put on hold.     'It would be my delight to treat the foreign sisters with the fairylike mien to a cup, after this minor misunderstanding is cleared up.'     "Good, good! I'm not that thirsty, but big sis Yuki says you must always have tea when you're traveling. That's called being friendly." Chie has much approximate knowledge of courtesy.     "'Fairy,' that means 'someone beautiful,' right? Doesn't it?" That's true in some languages.     'I've indulged this farce long enough. Move or die!'     "Ehh?! But why! Isn't he following his orders?" Chie and Hiromi both watch the blow-counterblow, the former with surprise and concern, the latter with a sharpness in her eyes and a growing interest left that remains unverbalized. Hiromi otherwise stands still, while Chie adopts a low, wide stance with both hands raised, one hand fidgeting toward where a weapon on her back might've been, if she hadn't come unarmed.     "Cheng." Hiromi's voice is a commanding rumble, to the point it's difficult to place it at words. It's not even clear if she was calling the name, or just saying it. "Lieutenant. General. Emperor. Good people. The state of Song. Elders. Chuyao He. Sage." Each term is intoned correctly, in too-perfect, uncanny mimicry of the conversation between lieutenant and scholar.     "Your loyalties. I will hear them, from the greatest, to the least. Speak." That was a command, enforced by Hiromi's Authority, directed at both Chuyao and Cheng. She's curious which of them will list 'the emperor,' if either, and how highly. She's curious about many things.     In the meantime, Hiromi lifts up Chie with one hand, by the back of her top. Chie wobbles in the air, going from martial arts stance to limp dangling. Hiromi deposits her behind herself. Chie, rather than resuming her stance, peeks out on the fight from behind Hiromi's leg.
Futaba Nuki	EARLIER "Try turning into a couch made of meat instead." "Hey, hey, don't tempt me. Maybe not 'round the old folks home, but somewhere like..." Futaba narrows her eyes, already looking for good places to start a few new ghost stories. "Maybe somewhere by the market before? Just need to get a good look at what couches look like 'round here..." NOW "Scholars grind themselves against each other with words." Futaba looks pointedly away from Hiromi, biting the inside of her lips to keep herself from chortling. She holds it together enough to look over at Chie, still struggling a bit to keep her composure. "Scholars refine scholars. If grinding away isn't enough... M-maybe you gotta take drastic measures and bang them together." She finds it incredibly hard not to laugh after that, but Chie coming to sniff around by her does actually get Futaba to calm down considerably even as she raises an eyebrow in amused curiosity. "Hey there. Lookin' for something? If you wanted to see it, you could just ask." She comments with yet another grin and waggle of her eyebrows, but she does't let her tail out just yet. That'll come later, certainly. Cheng's answer and the crowd's reaction Thank god, something else to help Futaba recollect herself. She nods slowly at first, making a show of looking like she's coming around to Cheng's explanation easily enough. "Ah, that's what it is, is it? I've heard of plenty of rulers having to make unpopular decision for the public good plenty of times." She replies while stroking her chin, slowly looking from Cheng towards the crowd as they start issuing comments to the contrary. "But how much does it really help to boot your oldest livin' heroes outta somewhere they've already settled into? I mean, I'm sure-" She nods towards the scholar, scrunching her face up a bit to try and figure out if she's seen him before. His voice is certainly familiar, but from where? "-there's some kind of place set up for them already, but moving's a real pain, you know?  What's so important that THIS has to be the place ?" Futaba's not really interested in the answer either way, though, as her attention is instead captured by the scholar revealing the ruse behind Cheng's order. Resisting the urge to stretch herself over to get a closer look, the tanuki settles for eyeing the scroll from a distance, gasping dramatically each step of the way and even murmuring every now and then to add some extra commentary for the crowd. "A forgery? Oh, gasp, who would do such a thing...?" "Oh, to besmirch the Emperor's good name in such a way..." "-Ah! He's not the only one with good taste, good wife."
Futaba Nuki	When things turn towards a battle of fan versus spear, however, Futaba becomes genuinely more excited. It's a front row seat to a sick ass kung fu battle, after all, and she's eager to hear more about the mysterious scholar's backstory as a self-declared villain. There's plenty of meat to chew on as Chuyao He reveals himself, and Futaba keeps her arms draped across those two soldiers shoulders in rapt attention right up until the call to start firing comes forth. "... Well. If Chuyao He's supposed to be villain in all this, then you guys are really giving heroes a bad name!" Letting her tail burst free behind her, Futaba leaps into the air as her jacket and skirt are left fluttering where she once stood, disapparing into Regulus purple fog and conveniently shlooping up into the sky where the ninja is coming down. Clad in her ninja'ing outfit from that grand jump, she descends right in front of those gathered townspeople unlucky enough to still be in the line of fire. "I am Futaba Nuki, ninja hero of the Paladins! By my declaration, all of you old folks will be safe from the General's minions!" She declares, drawing a flaming katana out of her pouch and stancing up like she's ready to intercept any stray crossbow bolts like a masterful swordswoman. As she does so, however, she sees Geed appearing as the obvious Big Target with a mysterious White woman on his shoulder. "... Oh, you guys are cooked now. Even the rookiest Ultraman's way out of your league, so don't embarass yourselves trying to bounce those little sticks of yours off of him or..." She trails off for a moment, not quite sure what to make of White up there. "... The cute lady up there with him! The second you start shootin' at her, there's going to be hell to pay!" Hedging her bets against any of those shots going wide, she starts advancing on the line directly, swirling her sword all around herself deftly and making a big show of making herself an obvious target as she tries teasing out attacks from the spear wall and backing off to try and create some openings for her allies. Any shots that do come her or the crowd's way, meanwhile, will be met by what looks like Futaba moving so quickly to catch them that there's afterimages of her doing so! They're not actually afterimages, though, but just quickly transforming herself to be a big non-human shield.
Regulus	Regulus snickers. WIth this level of chaos, she's not really bothering to hide her voice. "Haha! That's right! What kind of scoundrels want to kick poor old folks out of their homes!" But she does see lots of opportunities to trip people up and generally be a nuisance. She's ducking in and out and kicking at the legs of spearmen or swiping at arrows that the bowmen don't actively have in their hands, collecting as many as she can. She is doing her level best to avoid getting caught out but someone with keen ears might be able to pick out where she's moving around due to her general noisiness and her tendency to cause general problems. She's pretty sure the villain, Chuyao He, is not actually the villain at all but, in fact, the hero! That feels right. Plus she's comitting crimes. And she loves a good redemption story, mhm mhm. But she doesn't recognize his voice. He was sort of making the rounds on the public band before she was actually on it. She doesn't have her record player with her so she doesn't put on any music. Instead she wonders who THe Little Bastard is. Could that be the very villain who is fighting Cheng here? She can't help but wonder.
Petra Soroka	"--the trials at MOUNT FEATHERMAN! Sumi gave a report on everyone there."     "Awesome. That's the way I'd wanna be recognized." Petra grins at Chie before she's kidnapped away from the brawl by Hiromi. It's kind of nice to just be known as a fight idiot sometimes, even though her ideological framework doesn't really encourage it... though on the other hand, Chuyao's proximity-- and Hiromi herself-- is a good reason to reflect on the intersection between martial arts and virtue. "Lookin' for something? If you wanted to see it, you could just ask."     Petra whips her staff around and bonks Futaba on the head, precognitively flickering out of the way when a thrust spear tries to take advantage of her distraction from the fight. "You can't say that to a girl. Grow up." <J-IC-Scene> (NPC) Chie says, "A spear! Hey! I need a spear! Before the fight's over!" <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "Want one of theirs?" <J-IC-Scene> (NPC) Chie says, "Yes!"     It's suddenly *so* critically important for Petra to appear cool to Chie. As the spear that narrowly missed her pulls back, she twists her staff around behind her back to bring one end of it down into the haft just below the head. The morphmetal softens and splits, encircling the spear before reforming back together, and Petra continues the motion in an arc to rip and fling the weapon out of its wielder's hands, catapulting it towards Chie.
Hiromi	'Where do you reign?'     "I am Hiromi," she says, and Meresankh -- along with everyone else in earshot -- is treated to the implicit, subconscious understanding of not just 'a name,' but 'who she is,' in a manner that can only be parsed into words after it's happened. Those words might, typically, include not just The Archwolf, but The Final Huntress, The Terrible and Beautiful Tyrant, and countless overlapping, progressively less audible titles. This knowledge is only very mildly mind-altering on its own, but is similar in principle to the kind of book commonly kept chained.     "I rule Strength. I rule Unbreaking."     Chie offers an answer easier to find on a map, "All lands surrounding the Celestial Mountain are part of Her territory! From the southern rivers to the Sea of Death in the north." Might need to check a few maps, or with Concord information services.
Chuyao He	It's a credit to the soldiers' bravery, or perhaps a discredit to their sense, that none flee when they see Ultraman rising to stand shoulder to shoulder with the gabled, glazed-tile roof of the teahouse. The townspeople do just as he'd hoped, and scatter.      The crossbowmen in particular show remarkable resolve, even as Futaba chides them for it. It's as if they were drilled not to fear even giants--rather than flee from Riku, they attempt to hack apart the strands on their crossbows with their sabers. Just as they begin to free them, however, they're bowled over by White and swept across the street alongside the spearmen by Riku. In the case of the latter, the spearmen stay standing, at first, planting their feet and getting behind their weapons. The points are sharp, and being repeatedly poked with them doesn't feel great--but as he pushes them, their heels inevitably hit their prone comrades, sending them tumbling over the tangle of bodies and pavises.      The soldiers are nothing if not determined. While it takes the spearmen longer to get up, the crossbowmen disentangle themselves from the surge of bodies on the ground, taking a knee and lining up shots on White, even with the spearmen scrambling to get to their feet to protect the ranged units from another sweep by either her or Ultraman.      Every single crossbowman able to fire focuses it on her, rotating quickly to a shifting backline to reload and let their fellows fire too. The experience for her is a stream of lethal bolts only interrupted by the need to retreat from both her and Ultraman.      Regrettably, Cheng can back up all that trash he was talking. Although Chuyao has most of his attention, he's deliberately positioned himself such that he can see his men, and therefore Futaba. "SWORD FORMATION! Pick off the others, then handle the giant! Four men, break off quickly and detain the witnesses!" Though, obviously, taking fault for something only means anything if you follow it up with doing the right thing after, whether or not people like you for it.      "I could not agree more." Your loyalties. I will hear them, from the greatest, to the least. Speak.      "To the greatest fighter in the state of Song, General Gao Yichen! To myself! To my men! All others are irrelevant!" Well, at least he's loyal, but if there were any people left, he'd be catching flak for his priorities for sure.      "To the Five Virtues: Benevolence, Wisdom, Righteousness, Sincerity and Propriety! To the goodness within people, no matter their station, if they have only the will to leave what is useless behind! To lasting, real harmony between people, and not to the negative peace of harm endured quietly! There are no higher pursuits than these--the Way which may be strayed from is not the true Way!"      "I'll show you useless! Spear Catches Leaf!" Cheng performs a very technically complex flourish meant to use the flexibility of the spear and the brightness of the tassel to distract; the haft is swung around using first his torso as a fulcrum, luring Chuyao in with the wide swings seemingly made foolishly, only to make an abrupt change in direction, choking up on the weapon and stabbing upwards in a way that seems destined to end in the scholar's death. Yet, when the point finds Chuyao's jugular, it can barely penetrate his skin, drawing a trickle of blood.      Moreover, Chuyao's skin has turned a bright red and his eyes lose the color of their pupils. "The Thirteen Sutras?!" Cheng's startled backstep is matched by a lunging advance from Chuyao, left hand suddenly holds a steel calligraphy brush. The point of the brush strikes inside Cheng's elbow, and his entire left arm goes limp, a pressure point struck true even beneath the padded portion of his armor. Fighting awkwardly one-handed with the spear choked all the way up, the fight is now solidly in Chuyao's favor, who is far more accustomed to such a haphazardly close range.
Chuyao He	"You ARE one of those damnable Sages! MEN! A month's pay to whoever kills this bastard!" But Chuyao's pressure made him turn his back on his men. He doesn't see how Meresankh's lightning scatters through the ranks he ordered dispersed, and now, fighting one handed against two opponents, he should be watching his men more than ever.      In their two-on-one, Mereseankh can press the advantage of range, while Cheng must work twice as hard to keep a guard up against her scepter and Chuyao's fan-and-brush. Sweat trickles freely down his temples, and his complexion is pale--Cheng is getting exhausted, whereas Chuyao only seems to be more aggressive, circling around to keep himself and Meresankh at opposite ends of Cheng's threat radius, deflecting by trapping the spear's point within the spaces between the fan's slats and turning it sideways, attacking with vicious stabs at the liver with the brush, seemingly now undeterred by the thick mountain armor Cheng wears.      As Futaba closes on the crossbow line, they stow the weapons and break off into groups of four with the spearmen, who have finally cut their own weapons free. Two crossbowmen wield sabers on the outside edge of two side-by-side spearmen. The saber-wielding crossbowmen attempt to corral Futaba into the thrusts of the spearmen, swinging broad, advancing swaths with their one-handed swords. Even though they're trained for ranged combat, they're just as comfortable this way, and Hiromi will note there's even some head movement from the rank-and-file to avoid killing or knockout blows, though not to the degree that Chuyao and Cheng demonstrate.      Against ordinary opponents, Cheng's order is quite tactically sound--especially since Ultraman and White have proven they can just break formations. Against someone as slippery as Futaba, however, 'kettling' is easier said than done, and it leaves them open to being picked apart by foes who are individually much stronger.      Petra, in particular, hooks a crossbowman attempting to fire on a fleeing witness (he has a liberal definition of 'arrest,' it seems) and yanks him out of position, forcing him to draw his saber in a contest of range against her quarterstaff he's much less suited to or comfortable with than Chuyao across the street. Then, snatching a spearman's weapon away, she forces him into using one, too.      Regulus doesn't go long without her question answered. Although it's obnoxious to be kettled by trained soldiers, being invisible obviates that entirely. As such, she can stop up those soldiers Cheng tasked with hunting witnesses quite easily, and generally be a menace, especially after Meresankh's low-power lightning tore through them. Trained soldiers appear to lose their footing or lose their ammunition.
Chuyao He	The beggar from before is suddenly visible making an incredible leap to the top of the teahouse, and a second from the teahouse into the path of the would-be witness-hunters as they recover from their stumble. Meresankh in particular can see how incredible his sense of balance was--that staff of his is actually of the three-section variety, bent over his shoulders like a casually-held jacket.      "I, Little Bastard of the Beggar Sect, must agree with the strange junior sister! I much prefer the honesty of this 'villain!'"      "Wishing for death!" cries a spearman, making a rising thrust, twirling the spear overhead and whipping the deadly point several times at Little Bastard's head.      Little Bastard seems to swell in his rags, his body tensing. The soldier's spear shatters against his skin, followed by his sidearm saber bending. Where Chuyao is an agressive offense freak, this man appears to be from a sect of defense perverts. His three-section staff quickly has the soldier and his companion on the retreat, using the weapon's combination of reach and unpredictable angle to bully the soldiers backwards until they trip and fall into the horse troughs out front of the teahouse. As they get up, the end of the staff cracks back and forth between their helmets, taking them out of the fight with a one-two knockout.      "Stinky beggar...!!" Cheng spits, only to earn a sharp, hard rap of Chuyao's fan against his knuckles for taking his attention off him.      Cheng's men are dropping quickly from exhaustion, from being battered around by Ultraman, White and Petra, from Regulus wearing them out invisibly, and from chasing Futaba fruitlessly. No one can fault them for their determination, if anything else--      One of the four-man kettle teams, the last standing, attempts to pincer Hiromi and Chie. The spearmen attack the legs, assuming that their opponents will flinch and retreat. Meanwhile, the sabers come in from the side, ducking and weaving, opportunistically swiping and retreating into the threat radius of the spearmen.
Riku Asakura	Sparks fly from the body of Geed as the spears strike it, but it doesn't seem to affect the Giant of Light as much as it should.  He's built tough, and it's going to take a lot more than these spears to wear him down.  He takes a moment to acknowledge White on his shoulder, nodding to her the way an Ultraman does.   Meanwhile, Futaba talks up Ultraman Geed, and he tries his best not to let his pride swell, but he's glad for her words.  Riku, at the core of Geed smiles, but then remembers that he's supposed to be a target.  This might run counter to his plan if they take her seriously and instead start firing on Chuyao.   Thankfully, they don't, and he's standing up to tower over the men as he brings his foot down, aiming to hit the ground with enough force to cause a shockwave and attempt to make the terrain unstable for the spearmen fighting, or at the very least, give his allies an advantage over the soldiers while they are forced to fight himself and White on uneven footing.   Out of the corner of his eye, he notices groups splitting off to hunt down civilians.  He can't do anything about that, given he's dealing with the majority here.  Worse, this distraction causes arrows from crossbows to be put into his body.  They glide off his body, but cause sparks to hit as they do so.   He's forced to counter, throwing his arms wide and sending bolts of energy into the crowd of soldiers, both spearmen and crossbowmen, trying to take them down before they can do that again.
Futaba Nuki	"You can't say that to a girl. Grow up." Letting out a guttural throat noise at the bonking, Futaba still keeps her false-afterimage defensive technique going like she didn't just get scolded and smacked for her immaturity. "Fine, fine... Wrong place, wrong time. And... It's not as fun if there's no reaction from it." She admits with a somewhat defeated sigh, snapping right back out of it once- "SWORD FORMATION!" -she's forced to pay closer attention to the martial prowess of the soldiers. "Not even running in the face of these odds, huh...? Alright, you guys've got some chops! No reason to pull any punches now, then, with the old folks out of the way!" Grateful for that much, Futaba flicks her katana into an underhand grip, crossing blades with the crossbowmen's sabers on one side before flicking and twirling her weapon to deflect slices from the other. She's eager to scrape metal on metal through this battle as she continues advancing on the crossbowmen before deftly flipping back out of range just when the spears come too close for comfort. Despite her ninja-stylings, obvious inhuman nature, and her words earlier, Futaba's rather intent on doing this the 'right way': As a proper battle of martial artists and soldiers rather than just leveraging her transformative powers the entire time. When one of those spears looks like it's close to striking true, she twists herself around to coil around it, gripping the shaft of the spear under her arm with only a middling amount of stabbing through her side before swinging a leg up to punt the other end right back at the spearman's face and getting some distance once more. "Oi, oi! Don't forget you're fighting us! The next one that goes after a 'witness' is becomin' a eunuch!" Futaba threatens while flourishing her katana again, pausing just long enough to transform her free hand into a rather nasty-looking crab claw. It's only for a moment, though, before her hand goes right back to a regular hand-shape and she gets her attention grabbed by the sudden introduction of Little Bastard. "Whoa, is that THE Little Bastard of THE Beggar Sect?" Futaba has no idea who or what those names are, but she's definitely going to act like she does. "Aren't those the guys they tried executin' way back in the day and couldn't find a sword sharp enough to finish the job? The heck do you think those spears are gonna do to him?"
Meresankh	EARLIER     "I am Hiromi. I rule Strength. I rule Unbreaking."     Meresankh is a little shook by the full understanding of Hiromi's presence - it's a good thing she has a perfect poker face, but her voice wavers just a little. "I-I see. An esteemed position! Perhaps I should visit your lands sometime..." She taps at her chin, tink-tink.     NOW     Meresankh circles Cheng, fighting alongside the scholar. One moment she's keeping her distance and hurling bolts of lightning to throw the lieutenant off-balance during Chuyao's offenses, the next moment pressing forward with her blade to give Chuyao room to catch his breath. Even so, Cheng holds his own. Meresankh thinks quickly, looking for opportunities to turn the battle decisively.     Settling on a plan, she sets it into motion. "You lash out in anger against the very people you are charged to defend! You are a failure of a lieutenant!" she says to Cheng, taunting him and feigning a drop of her guard. The next time he thrusts his spear in her direction she jumps not backward or aside, but straight *up*, rising into the air in an antigravity field. As the lieutenant's weapon extends through empty air beneath Meresankh's feet, her scepter glows and unleashes a hissing sickly-green ray that sweeps across the spear, cutting off its head! The disintegration ray's effect continues, and the remaining haft begins to crumble from the top down.     Now solidly outside Cheng's reach, and her trump card played, Meresankh flourishes her scepter again, not at Cheng but at Chuyao! To the scholar's perception everything slows aside from his own motions. To everyone else, Chuyao's movements and reactions vastly accelerate. "NOW!" Meresankh calls, urging the sage on to strike a decisive blow from his bubble of altered time...
White	White is momentarily distracted by Hiromi's voice! The knowledge it forcibly imparts feels a little too similar to how Taboo felt when she first experienced that, and being reminded of it makes her spine tingle unpleasantly in a way she has to try to ignore. Someone she doesn't know called her 'cute' too, but Petra is scolding Futaba for being weird to girls, so clearly that wasn't worth paying attention to. And besides, she has other things to think about; despite planning to take a backseat to most of the fight, apparently those crossbowmen are determined to change that! For a moment she assumes they just didn't like being kicked by a 'cute' woman, but thinks better of it; she looks like the easiest target, doesn't she? Unarmed, unarmored, eyes closed and whatnot? Crud, she might have to reconsider looking harmless all the time...      Fortunately though, since she's not too busy doing anything else, she can recognize she's being aimed at. Web strands laid across her palm help with her grip and ease the timing so that she can catch the first couple of bolts with her absurd reaction speeds, but she only really has the one hand to catch with while using the other to brace herself upright on Riku's shoulder. By the time the third shot is coming her way, she bends backward instead of challenging it, dropping from that elevated point to the ground below and landing on one knee with her palms down. The ground rises up in front of her as a short wall, only tall or wide enough to cover her lowered posture from the front like a shield... But that's a diversion.      She's already moved again, and there's never been a line of spearmen in any world that could prevent it. She's in their midst, and while seeing it a second time might afford one of them an opportunity to strike at her if they're very clever and quick, her fist is already meeting the ground. She mumbles "Terrain-". The ground under her knuckles bends down and into the earth a short distance beneath an orange-hued glyph. "Shock." she finishes, and a trio of concentric rings around the impact point suddenly surge and lift out of the ground, flat circular slabs launching upward along with all of the people immediately around her, bludgeoning and throwing them into the air and outward (and making them easy targets). Exactly like the kick before, it's not likely to be lethal unless one of them is unlucky enough to land on their head, but this is probably a whole lot more painful, especially for those caught inbetween two of the rings who end up juggled from one to the next. It's probably starting to feel like she's trying to bully them on purpose... Because she is. Making a bit of chaos out of their organization, and punishing them for the temerity to fire at a peaceful spider- I mean lady, it's a little cathartic!      Still, it seems like there won't be a need for another dramatic breaching maneuver like that, as groups split off to fight individuals and get picked apart in return. If anyone's brave enough to fight her in melee, she just about exclusively aims to capture weapons in webbing and then launch attackers across the ground with her palm. Since she has no real fear of their blades or bolts, there's no real issue with her lacking martial sense compared to the soldiers; if she makes a small mistake, she'll carry through with the motion anyway. Every opening she gives them is actually an opening for her, too, as long as she defends her head decently. But, hey, Futaba was right; attacking her was an understandable but bad choice. That, and she *is* pretty cute.
Hiromi	...and Petra continues the motion in an arc to rip and fling the weapon out of its wielder's hands, catapulting it towards Chie.     Chie leaps out and grabs a flying spear haft. "Yes!"     She pauses, and looks up at Hiromi, who makes eye contact, and then a mild-toned chuffing sound. Chie responds, "Okay!"     Weapon obtained, she prepares to charge in -- but the smoke cloud has already dissipated, and wherever she turns, fights are ending as soon as they've begun. The seeds of despair have too little time to take root, however, before a squad decides to try their luck with the sitting target that is Hiromi. Wheeling around on her heel, Chie guards Hiromi's back, holding the pilfered spear high, one hand all the way to the butt end, making low, broad sweeps, inviting an opponent to either step back, down, leap, or block -- which is the point at which she reveals the common trait of wolf-miko that is, whatever the size of their frame may be, that it's filled with muscle. She only waits for a move to be committed to before running her grip up the shaft and putting her whole body in an upward windmill of a strike.     Once in close, the spear is used more like a staff, striking with either hand to extend her reach, thrust to the side at an extra opponent pulling in to threaten her, and purely a distraction as as she pushes all the way up against a soldier, spins about with spear pressed to spear, and sweeps both legs with bone-cracking force.     Behind her, Hiromi continues to stand as she is stabbed in both legs. The strikes, made without sufficient murderous intent, fail to penetrate her skin.     "I see. Humans call this..." She's looking at them, but it's questionable what she's seeing. "... 'feudalism,' yes?"     Chie has more to say. "What about the emperor? You can't just do whatever you want, if your boss isn't THE boss! What about the people? You can't rule them if you don't care about them! You don't... you don't deserve it! You haven't earned it!" It's too bad the crowd wasn't around to hear. On the other hand, then they might be getting shot at.
Petra Soroka	"There are no higher pursuits than these--the Way which may be strayed from is not the true Way!"     "Neither of them said the Emperor at all...." Petra quietly marvels. This truly is an impressive display of Hiromi's wisdom, to make them state their priorities out like that. Petra herself has a strict hierarchy of loyalties in her mind, in neat descending order just like Hiromi demanded, and more people should do the same. "The Thirteen Sutras?!"     Petra gasps and narrows her eyes, looking past the two men whose sabers are caught on either end of her quarterstaff to squint at Chuyao. After a lingering shot of seeing the technique play out, Petra murmurs, "... Isn't that a sex thing?"     Petra has less than no interest in jumping to Chuyao's aid, even after the call for his execution is made. Obviously, this guy should be made of stern enough stuff that he wouldn't die to a random encounter of some losers trying to steal and old persons' home. He described getting in fights with traveling knights-errant, rising through the ranks of a now-dishonored sect and continuing to hone himself twice as earnestly after its fall, and he's got some nice sounding words in those virtues! Petra wants to see what he's made of! "I, Little Bastard of the Beggar Sect, must agree with the strange junior sister!"     Petra feels like she just got assigned a title that'll attach itself to her display name in an MMO. Someone will look at her and see PETRA SOROKA floating above her head, and right underneath that, enclosed in brackets, will be <Strange Junior Sister>, and she'll never be able to undo it. She briefly frowns about it, and then forgets all about it when Little Bastard has weapons shatter off of him.     "Oh, sick! It's *that* kind of martial arts! You're doing magic shit!"     Petra, meanwhile, has two saber-wielding goons trying to get her. Now that *supernatural techniques* are on the table, Petra's got very little reason to not deploy her own, and several quick flash-steps in succession leave her dancing untouched past the swords, skipped-frame adjusted into an offensive stance right as they're off-balance from their swings. She slips her upper hand down the staff to lever her reach into a strike onto one crossbowman's head, then brings it back overhead to catch the incoming slash from the second. Jabbing the blunt end into their chest sends them sprawling to the ground as well, leaving Petra momentarily unbothered. "And... It's not as fun if there's no reaction from it."     Petra huffs in irritation, not looking away from Futaba when she lifts up her Silver staff to bat down a man falling from the air from White's spell. "You have to know your audience, or you're just harrassing women. Get a personality besides making horny jokes." "What about the emperor? You can't just do whatever you want, if your boss isn't THE boss!"     "I think the Emperor must not be much of a paragon of any of their virtues. Or, virtues in Chuyao's case, probably being a greedy power-hungry shitheel in the other guy's."
Regulus	Regulus isn't an expert in wuxia fiction or wuxia movies and she wouldn't know what wuxia is. But she is pretty thrilled all the same to see someone declare themselves Little Bastard of the Begger Sect. It has the kind of style Regulus just adores and tries to encourage in others and tries to live herself. She didn't know beggars could be so incredibly tough like this, or that they had sects, but she supposes anything is possible. "Yeah!" Regulus hops up and down. "Little Bastard of the Beggar Sect! Yeah!!" She almost completely forgets that she's in a fight in the moment. She does kick a spearmen in the literal butt though. This isn't exactly doing a lot of HARM but it is VERY ANNOYING. She actually ends up jogging over to the Little Bastard, this time reappearing in full with APPLe hovering down next to her. "Got your message!" She excitedly hops up and down on her feet. "This has been a real party...! I wasn't expecting the guy!" She means Chuyao. "You broke a spear with your chest. Bent the metal! What kind of talent is that??"
Chuyao He	Ultraman's energy waves strike the ground near the soldiers and send them flying into the air. They're strewn about, lifted off of their feet, arms flying, weapons largely knocked from their grasp, to land in tangled heaps across the street like odd ornaments. The ones that try to get back up are swiftly discouraged from doing so by the pavement-buckling shockwave that flips them before they can fully regain their footing. he heck do you think those spears are gonna do to him?      "I have some talent, but I dare not tromp through the rivers and lakes as boldly as Gao's most unimpressive minions." You are a failure of a lieutenant!      "The people do not know their place!" Meresankh's disintegration ray crumbles his spear, but there's nothing like being sore at losing to make someone like Cheng go into full Posting mode. "They are but the crude raw material of this state. They benefit from the blood we shed, the bridges we build, so why should we not shape and use that material as we see fit?"      NOW!      Chuyao is upon Cheng in an instant, one stomach-dropping lunge putting the point of his brush against the lieutenant's armor. It's an elegant thing, even with the hairs under some sort of hard steel cap; the cap contours to the shape of the brush. He twirls as he approaches, driving the back end of the brush into the side of Cheng's helmet. The force of the impact penetrates even the helmet, just enough to strike a pressure point on his temple with the dented metal.      The motion of his spinning back strike planted his foot in a hook deliberately behind Cheng's forward leg. "TSS!" The folded fan crashes into Cheng's armored stomach, and the force of the blow blasts off the scales at the back of his cuirass as it travels through him, lifting him off the ground and skipping him across the road. He lands facedown at the steps of the Elders' Home, and the Understanding manages to parse something in the particular shapes revealed by the missing scales--parts weakened during the fight by Chuyao's pressure point strikes, maybe. The lake is deep, the path over-snowed Far the fish have up stream flowed Still here a man alike stone sat To die of cold in sight of the road
Chuyao He	Behind him, White's Impact Shock strikes with crushing force at the area spearmen least expect threatened--right under their feet! Their armor isn't the heaviest, but neither is it the lightest, and so, coming back to earth with all that extra weight after such a flight takes the wind out of all but the hardiest. Even those that aren't right out of the fight don't want to get back up. It must be that Meresankh's lightning is an unspoken understanding; they probably imagine that both she and White could do much worse, and don't want to press the issue.      Chie, meanwhile, finds her opponents as disciplined and well trained as most others have, but like most others, she also finds that they can't match her physicality. You don't... you don't deserve it! You haven't earned it!      There is an understanding that Chie is correct, written on the soldiers' faces; the person who would contradict her, who largely speaks for them, is face-down and unsconscious. Her spear-as-a-staff penetrates overcautious offensives and collides with armored wrists and necks, sufficiently powerful to disarm, corral and batter until none are left standing.      Chuyao, however, answers for them and their leader both. "General Gao is a petty person," he says. "He believes that he is 'the boss,' as you say, and would even if he were in rags. He only cares for himself and his own enrichment, and so necessarily, he cares neither about the people the Emperor charges him to protect nor for his duty to the Emperor. If the Emperor died, he would care only how close an eye his successor paid to him."      "As for the Emperor, it is hard for me to believe he still holds the Mandate of Heaven. What good he does often seems drowned out by what evil he allows. One's actions and their consequences speak more loudly than their intentions. That is as true of the Emperor as it is of the humblest peasant."      Little Beggar laughs, head thrown back. "To think that a Sage of the Five Virtues School would have the sense to say that!"      Chuyao frowns. "Would that more of us had, and meant it," he says. Bent the metal! What kind of talent is that??      Regulus' question is answered, first by Little Bastard, but not by him alone. "It's as the junior sister with the ribald sense of humor stated. We of the Beggar Sect learn to make ourselves more durable than the sharpest executioner's knife may cut. No matter how wicked the judge, they will not rob the poor and the meek of their protectors. It was I who brought the evil of the Five Virtues School to light. I am pleased to see at least one student among them had some redeeming quality, your past sins aside." Little Bastard's gaunt features make his appraising stare seem all the more uncompromising, but there isn't a total absence of warmth there.      Chuyao shakes his head. "I cannot afford to leave those sins aside, elder brother. Still, it is good to know the Beggar Sect is still active in the martial world."      "Active! Ha! They're one of my best sources of information." A man in flowing black silk robes of a minsiter, with a dashing pencil-thin mustache and jovial yet sharp blue eyes, strides confidently onto the scene, flanked by what must be the local constabulary; a cadre of men and women dressed in black tunics with brown pants and simple black boots, each wearing caps and equipped with, among varied tools at their belts, straight swords.
Chuyao He	"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Governor Guiying; I handle the affairs in the Wuyue administrative region."      When I received Little Bastard's carrier pigeon this afternoon I practically turned my carriage over coming back here! I knew the people from the Multiverse worked quickly, but to snuff the rising star of General Gao's Mansion!" The minister grins broadly, offering a fist-in-palm greeting. "Darling scholar Chuyao, your re-emergence is most auspicious. I shall be keeping an eye on you."      Chuyao bows at the waist. "This humble scholar is pleased to have the recognition of the minister whose reputation is well-earned."      "Oh, it's okay, I know you Confucians get uncomfortable with bribes, but Little Bastard here can tell you that the tiger's share finds its way back to the people. The bridge downtown is rather striking, no?"      Little Bastard chuckles. The constables pretend not to hear it.      "In any case," says Guiying, stepping over a knocked-out soldier as he surveys the damage, "I'm certain General Gao will fly into a rage over this and make a blunder trying to 'fix' it like he always does. Governor Guiying doesn't forget a favor. I'd love to have those of you with... ahem, shall we say, well-heeled affiliations at my home for tea. And I'm sure my friend Little Beggar can pull some strings for those of you I can't *publicly* be seen with. Which reminds me," he says, fanning himself with a horsehair whisk.      He clears his throat. Then, he makes a gubernatorial proclamation. "Miscreants of the Beggar Gang! Ne'er-do-wells of the... what was it?"     "The Watch," one of the constables absently advises over his shoulder as Chuyao hands him the forgery orders.      "The Watch!" Guiying loudly announces. "I, GOVERNOR GUIYING, chastise and condemn you!" None of the constables do anything, and this seems to be the way Guiying likes it. "Ta!" He then leaves the way he came.
Meresankh	As the find winds to a close, Meresankh floats gently to the ground and retracts the blade into her scepter.     He only cares for himself and his own enrichment, and so necessarily, he cares neither about the people the Emperor charges him to protect nor for his duty to the Emperor.     "It is a disgrace on the Emperor's record," Meresankh opines, "to let such a man rise to the rank of general. Such parasites must be removed with fine-toothed comb, before they are allowed to grow fat on the people's blood."     "To think that a Sage of the Five Virtues School would have the sense to say that!"     "Would that more of us had, and meant it,"     It was I who brought the evil of the Five Virtues School to light.     Meresankh makes a mental note to inquire as to the history of the Five Virtues School, when she gets a chance. Perhaps with the Beggar Sect first, before she hears Chuyao He's inside story.     "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Governor Guiying; I handle the affairs in the Wuyue administrative region."     "Queen Meresankh, ruler of Oryx," she says with a nod. "Chuyao He has been most expedient in arranging our acquaintance, and for this I thank him. It would be my pleasure to meet with you, although I regret I may be unable to appreciate the tea." As for why, she lets her robot-skeleton body speak for itself.
Regulus	''It was I who brought the evil of the Five Virtues School to light.'' "Maybe they should've had six or seven virtues and then they wouldn't have ended up so bad." Regulus says wisely without even saying sorry to Chuyao. ''The Watch! I, GOVERNOR GUIYING, chastise and condemn you!'' "Heeeeey...!" Regulus complains, though without THAT much heat. She's the only member of the Watch here right now so it feels strangely personal though if anyone asks she's just goin to say it's because she was Heeeeeying on the Beggar Sect itself.
White	With the boss beaten by the noble sage, and the soldiers otherwise battered into surrender, White makes a slight show of brushing her palms off on each other and then sweeping the dust from her dress. There's a modest little breeze of magic wind from her hand during the motion, but it's nothing more significant than a party-trick as far as her overall magical skill goes. She pauses a moment longer to get her phone out and look up the definition of "ribald", then tucks it away in her sleeve again. Riku and Petra get little nods as she steps near them to get closer to the conversation, and she gets just close enough to bop the distracted Regulus on the back of the head with one extended finger. Without specifying *why* though, it probably just seems like a random act of subdued violence.      The governor arrives in person! That's already slightly more than White had expected. She's prepared for the sketchy governor to suddenly heel-turn and order some kind of stupid arrest on the Elites, but when that minor concern passes in good humor instead, it changes almost nothing about her expression. If anything, it just takes him far enough out of the 'don't care' level of reputation in her mind that she sees fit to gesture backward, sinking the street-pavement that she displaced back into its original flat evenness. There are perfectly circular gaps between segments still, but it's not something a wagon wheel would notice. Still... Tea with a governor. That's surely supposed to be rather prestigious, but these kinds of meetings never go without conversation. She seems to be looking around at the people she knows, trying to gauge how many of them will be taking that offer before she considers it herself; if there's enough people to use as a social shield, she'll probably be able to justify it... But otherwise, it wouldn't be the first social function she's stood up.      It doesn't seem like that's a 'now' engagement, at least, and in the aftermath of battle with constables working on, presumably, making arrests and cleaning up the scene, she walks over to conversational distance with Chuyao only after Guiying is well out of earshot. In the usual murmury voice, she softly compliments, "Good show." Privately, she's just glad he didn't manage to lose while she was distracted... That would've been pretty upsetting. He's actually tougher than she assumed, and she was already estimating upward for that 'protagonist aura' she's been recognizing in more and more people lately. It's mostly a coincidence that she hasn't seen many Elites eat dirt yet, though. It's also not until after Meresankh fully introduces herself that White remembers to, at least, say "White." so he knows it's her.
Riku Asakura	Happy with the men being either knocked out, driven away, or disarmed, Ultraman Geed starts to shrink down from his house-sized form right as his power gem starts to blink red again.  Darn, he's spent too much time lately as Ultraman Geed.  With that, he vanishes, leaving Riku once again standing where Ultraman Geed once stood.   "I think we did it, the Elder's home has been saved," he says as the Governor walks up with his cadre of men and women.  He bows politely to the Governor and states his name.  "Riku Asakura, of the Paladins.  And I would enjoy tea very much!" he says, having worked up a sweat.
Petra Soroka	"One's actions and their consequences speak more loudly than their intentions."     Petra plants a hand on her hip and pouts, letting her staff decohere into a formless mass of metal that flows around her arm back into its bottle. "Well, that's true. I *am* always saying that. If your Emperor's a fuckass loser, then good on you for not giving a shit about him. It's just a little surprising to hear. There's a level of, uh, unexamined slavery-to-society that typically exists in everyone, even people who make it their goal to cultivate themselves and their, like, worldview and the clarity of the relationship between their interior and exterior."     "So you've either had a ton of time to think, your previous position with the sect didn't really give you a reason to care about the Emperor either, *or* your faith in a lot more things than you think's been shaken by what happened," she concludes, wrapping up the exciting little brawl with a fun dose of baseless psychoanalysis. "It was I who brought the evil of the Five Virtues School to light."     "No shit?" Petra's eyes widen at Little Bastard, newly appraising. She hadn't heard of him before he leapt off the roof, after all. "Well hell yeah, nice to meet you, dude. Impressive fucking work, now and with that all."     Offering Little Bastard a fist bump, she tilts her head towards Chuyao, vaguely approvingly. "Guys love when the cold light of revelations is shined to expose their sins. Well, they hate it, but it either destroys them or forces them to fix themselves, and that's what it's all about, right?" "I'm Governor Guiying; I handle the affairs in the Wuyue administrative region."     "Got your letter," Petra explains, to offer familiarity. She's kind of distantly surprised that he seems like an actually good person, from the tone of the original message. "'d love to have those of you with... ahem, shall we say, well-heeled affiliations at my home for tea."     Petra opens her mouth and hesitates. She looks around at the rest of the group, then down at herself in confusion, pressing her lips back closed. Surely she doesn't count as having well-heeled affiliations, right? She's not in the Watch, but frankly, the Concord have the worse reputation among people many places you go, especially being an explicit supervillain. Not to mention, it's public information that she *was* a terrorist in the Watch.     After staying silent for a while, Petra, of the Two-Unwell-Heels, points to herself awkwardly. "Does that... include... me...?"
Hiromi	Chie beats people with a spear, along with leg and elbow strikes. It's nicer than stabbing them, though only barely. Flexibility -- in several senses -- and unhesitating power are strengths of her style. Hiromi continues to observe without acting, but doesn't have to do so for long.     In any case, as far as Chie is concerned, that was satisfying. She wipes her brow with her sleeve, grins, and tosses the spear on top of one of the soldiers, using the same arm to wave to Petra. "Thanks! Oh, but, if only I'd nabbed one first, I could have a new spear..." There must be some kind of rule.     Hiromi drags her foot as she turns, and gives half of an an almost shrug, craning around, then turning toward, the approaching governor. Chie follows, saying, "I know! I know I don't need it right now, but... you can't have too many spears, right?" Hiromi's response is unclear.     There's a salute happening! Chie smartly returns it. This particular custom seems close to identical, with the exception that Hiromi's people don't ever bow when they do it. Arms held just so, back straight, fist to palm nigh imperceptibly avoiding touching, but still enough to seem as if they are.     "Governor Guiying! We'll accept your hospitality!" Chie had said her business here was to speak, and so, she does.     With more implicit sense of danger, a bit more like one would expect of 'inviting a wolf into your home' at a base, instinctive layer of the mind, so does Hiromi. "My eyes will see, my ears will hear, my limbs will feel the tremble in the earth, whether any, in your land, are fit... to rule."     He could probably stand to research past elite exploits a bit. But it's not like anything untoward will happen today, almost probably certainly! Chie looks perfectly friendly, and Hiromi hasn't even hit someone.
Futaba Nuki	"I have some talent, but I dare not tromp through the rivers and lakes as boldly as Gao's most unimpressive minions." "Pssh, don't sell yourself so short! It's not everyone that can take somethin' head on like that. Keep it up, and I reckon you could even take a hit from this baby no problem!" Futaba lets herself get a little distracted waving her flaming katana in the air, specifically showing it off to Little Beggar before bringing it back down to clash with another spear and twist it around before kicking at it again to thrust the end right back at one of the soldier's faces. "he cares neither about the people the Emperor charges him to protect nor for his duty to the Emperor." "Oh." Futaba's expression sours at Chuyao's explanation, and not even in the same way that it had when she had threatened those soldiers earlier not to pursue the witnesses. It's in more of a disgusted sort of way, as though she's finally heard something irritating enough that even trying to wave it off with humor doesn't quite seem appealing anymore. "It's as the junior sister with the ribald sense of humor stated." That's still able to get some of humor back, at least, and Futaba flips her katana around unnecessarily one more time before sliding it right back into the pouch it came from, flames and all. She wasn't fully expecting to be correct about those false boasts, but it certainly turned out well enough as she looks over at Regulus' unfamiliar face. "Hey there. You lookin' to learn that kind of technique?" She pauses briefly in thought, then looks over towards Little Beggar. "You got time for students?" "I'd love to have those of you with... ahem, shall we say, well-heeled affiliations at my home for tea." "Smart..." Futaba murmurs to herself as she takes some mental notes about the Governor's method of handling this exact situation, trying to commit that to memory the next time she needs to do anything publicly fraught. It gets a laugh out of her, too, and she puts her hands together as the robe and skirt conveniently appear right back over her ninja'ing outfit as quickly as it came off prior to the battle. "I'll be looking forward to it, Governor! And don't you worry, I'll be on way better behavior then than today."
Hiromi	'Does that... include... me...?'     "Yesss? Why wouldn't it? Oh," suddenly, Chie reaches a strong (and strongly incorrect) conclusion, "Oh! Did you get hurt? Do you need help walking? You can lean on me! I'm strong, you know."     She ranks below most of her sisters and is firmly in the realm of non-super natural humanlike, but she's not lying, either. With conviction, she walks over to help (and possibly carry) Petra.
Petra Soroka	"Yesss? Why wouldn't it? Oh,"     Petra is suddenly rendered incapable of summoning up any further protest about her moral taint that corrupts any well-meaning governors who attempt to have tea with her, by the simple fact of someone having a moderate positive opinion of her assuming the best about her. She makes just a tiny surprised noise when Chie approaches her with a helpful grapple, starts to make efforts to explain the vast weight of Petra's unwelcomeness at any upstanding gathering, and then sighs and gives up, obliging to lean against her.     "Yeah, that's true. I *should* be there for tea."
Chuyao He	"Your Majesty," says Chuyao, inclining his head respectfully towards Meresankh. "I hope that Lieutenant Cheng did not sour your first visit to Song overmuch. I have some meager skill with the zither, and shall be delighted to play for you at the Governor's mansion, should he deign to allow me." He almost certainly will; the guy seemed delighted to see Chuyao. So you've either had a ton of time to think, your previous position with the sect didn't really give you a reason to care about the Emperor either, *or* your faith in a lot more things than you think's been shaken by what happened.     "Truthfully, junior sister Petra," says Chuyao with a thoughtful frown, "It's a mix of the three. I keep Two Rivers with me as a reminder of my failure; I lived as a hermit for some time after I abdicated an unearned position in the imperial bureaucracy. Two years I held that post, and no one came to punish me, but everyone seemed to know. To know, and not care. The Way holds that it is possible for a society to be disordered, and even so disordered that just people may hide. So, in an abstract sense, I knew it was possible, but to witness it and experience that disorder in the concrete sense did indeed shake my belief. Not in the Way, but in people's ability to follow even its simplest precepts." Well, they hate it, but it either destroys them or forces them to fix themselves, and that's what it's all about, right?     The scholar nods, as his red skin and colorless eyes fade away, returning to their normal hues in the post-fight cooldown. "In the end, if belief is not tested, it may fail one when it is needed the most." Does that... include... me...?     "He corresponds with Little Bastard, doesn't he?" A constable absently notes, putting a soldier in shackles. "The Governor only keeps up appearances because it lets him do the most good. The people know that he's corrupt, but he's corrupt on their behalf, which is a very rare thing."     "I wouldn't worry about it," agrees another, as she loads already-bound soldiers onto a horse-drawn cart.     "The only thing you have to get used to is him shouting his name, and you handled that pretty well," agrees a third. "If he doesn't do it when he shows up, he'll do it when he leaves." You got time for students?     Little Bastard shakes his head. "Not personally, and I wouldn't be allowed to, anyway. I'm a senior brother. But if you're serious about wanting to join, we have eyes all over, and not just where you'd expect. We'll be in touch." With that, Little Bastard makes another high-flying leap, this one low and across the ground, just barely clearing the wall at the end of the street with a frontflip before dipping below it and out of sight. Maybe they should've had six or seven virtues and then they wouldn't have ended up so bad.      Chuyao doesn't seem bothered by the remark so much as by... "The virtues are what they are. We may either live up to them or fall short. Too many of us, who should have been examples for the rest, fell short. I don't know that I'll ever feel as if I truly live up to them, but I know that the path to doing so is through action, wisely and swiftly taken. To that end, I must go. This unrefined scholar has an application to the Paladins to prepare." Chuyao excuses himself with a bow, stowing his brush and his fan in his sleeves.