*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*
The piercing cry of an alarm woke her from her slumber.
She opened her eyes and saw only blackness. It was dark and her head was pounding. She felt nauseated and the back of her throat burned, as if she had spent the night vomiting but she could not remember doing so. This must be what it is like to have a hangover. She was never much of a drinker, it dulled her senses but she had read about it and witnessed the symptoms in others. With a groan she would try to sit up, her foggy mind struggling to recall the series of events that left her in her probable predicament. She could feel the springs beneath her grouse as she shifted her weight. She was apparently in a bed. She did not remember retiring to a bed, but through hazy lenses she could see large red numbers in the darkness.
She reached for the numbers, almost instinctively as she blindly searched for an off-button. For something that would stop that shrill noise that seemed to burrow into her brain. She would miss, misjudging the distance and her hand would glide on past, her balance askew she too would topple off the edge of the bed onto the floor. The landing was far from noiseless as her hand reached up and slapped at the clock, finally by pure luck and coincidence would the alarm be turned off. The silence would be welcome but this would only be the start of the great mystery of the day -- where was she and what happened?
She thought she could remember but she could not recall. She was in a place. What was the place again? And why -- why was she there? She gripped the bed sheets, they were silky and soft. It was quite odd, she thought hers were generally rougher and more cotton-like than sateen. She fondled the sheets, bewildered as she rose to her feet. She was not steady but she was able to somehow stand. She stumbled and her hand rapped around a narrow, carved column. A poster? Wait, she did not have a poster bed. Her hand lingered and she felt the hardwood beneath her hand, she did not recognize it. A moment of panic was felt, a fire trepidation that came with revelation and recollection.
She was hunting Aburabuta and she was captured. Where was she? Her eyes scanned the room, it was pitch black but there were slivers of dim light. A window with heavy curtains... three. A door. Instinct would dictate that she should head to the door, seek escape but experience warned her otherwise. She needed to collect data. So she staggered half-blind to the window, she could feel hot bile creep up the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and felt the vomit wash away. Her hand brushed the curtain, it felt like velvet. She shifted the voluminous window covering to the side and daylight filtered into the room. She squinted and felt a pain in the front of her head. She was on the second floor. She could see slate shingles and a verdant, well-manicured lawn. Her hands gripped the sill and she attempted to open the window, it would not budge. She would grunt with exertion as she tried a second time. Was the window nailed shut?
She pulled the curtains open wide, the rings would run along the length of the rod and flank the window. She would look behind her, the room was spacious. A large, four poster bed made from a darkly stained hardwood sat alone. Heavy comforters layered on top of the mattress seemed odd, in Wind Country it was hardly a sign of luxury. Rather it was a nonsensical option a resident would never take. Strange. Come to think of it, the grass was also unusual, the earth was too sandy and the air too arid for sod such as this to grow. She pressed her palm against the pane of glass, it felt cool. Where is this place? It was a worrisome concept, being a place unanticipated. She took pride in knowing everything, some things before they even happened. But right now she felt hung over and disoriented.
What else could she learn?
There was a large open space between the foot of the bed and the far side of the room that held a large, heavy armoire carved from the same dark wood as the bed and a full length mirror. She was curious, it was a flaw. She approached the armoire but as she did so she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She did not recognize it. Her body was still new, it felt like she was piloting this form rather than living as it. The face was so round and so young, she lifted this body... her body's hand to the... her face and frowned. She should be elated, most women would be thrilled to take on a younger form when their better years were already behind them but she never cared about her youth. There was a sense of loss but she knew it was necessary. She knew that what she was had to be destroyed if she wanted to complete her directive, it was just done with a sense of pain and regret. The seals were gone and she was free to act of her own accord. She would stare with partial disbelief. She realized the change weeks ago but her mind refused to grasp her new hybrid nature.
She would repay her debt to him before she killed Shiro.
Yes, she owed Mikaboshi for this new curse. This loss of her former identity. Because she lacked value beyond what she knew and that never changed. She now had autonomy to fight back because she only lost herself, not what she had achieved. Mikaboshi did what nobody else was willing or cared to do -- to end her suffering but preserve what she knew. She would get him a new body and Aburabuta would be the supplier. Little did she know that Mikaboshi's prison was shattered in her absence. That her efforts now would be moot but she would -try- all the same.
She opened the armoire. It was empty less a small pile of clothes neatly piled on the base. There was a note folded on top that was written simply Wear Me It was similar to the attire she donned in the desert, albeit better quality. Heavier also, unsuitable for the excursions she had endured these past few weeks. Would she comply? No, she would not. She desired a sense of control and wearing these slightly bloodied clothes was better than taking charity from her captor. She closed the door without disturbing the garments left for her.
It was time to leave.
The door in her room was unlocked, it was slightly more unsettling being unlocked. Did he truly think she was such a little threat? It was almost insulting. She ambled into the hall, it was long and lit by overhead chandeliers. Was this intended to be a self guided tour. To her left was a hall with a visible terminal point. To her right was also a hall with a curved staircase that led to spaces below. Of the two, one of these paths was more logical than the other. She would defy logic, the path was prepared for her. She would turn left and amble down the hall, testing the doors she passed. They were all locked which did not surprise her. Upon reaching the third she would stop, the room choice was random, and she would grip the handle and then snap the brass knob hard to the left breaking the quality furnishing in the process. Indoor doors often lacked a deadbolt and these proved to be no exception.
She entered the room, the lightswitch was adjacent to the door. She broke into a... bathroom.
The marble floors glistened and the glass shower looked essentially unused. The room smelled like cedar, an illogical wood choice considering the humid conditions but that was irrelevant. She was learning. She knew where she was, well she knew who owned the place in which she was at the very least. She had done her research on the Aburabuta family before. The Aburabuta family, or rather Aburabuta Yutaka was publicly remembered as a wealthy philanthropist in Wind Country before the maelstrom. He had no official heir, but there were several young men and women scattered through Wind Country that claimed lineage, among them Hirotomi was the only one that has shown any evidence of being capable of following in his alleged father's footsteps. He started wealthy, his mother was a 'starving actress' that seemed to come into money in her later years for one reason or another. Some believe that supported his claim to the Aburabuta name but in the end it would prove irrelevant because Hirotomi would make himself into Yutaka's legacy, blood-ties or not.
That was why she was here... She needed him.
Over the years Hirotomi, much like his 'father' gained his wealth through illicit means. He was a businessman first, a law-abiding, ethical man second. He was slowly amassing power in the Suna underworld and she suspected that he was amassing his wealth through arms deals and human trafficking. His aspiration to become a Merchant Lord was also no secret and in his case it would be a weakness. He was a man that liked to display his wealth. Hubris and greed would be his vices, possibly vanity. She backed out of the bathroom and tested the next door. Also locked. Knob also broken in her hand. Inside this room, nothing. A true oddity. The room was quite large, but there was no wall coverings. There was no overhead light fixture. There was no furniture. The only object in the room was a pair of heavy curtains hanging from a rod. Noted. She went to the next room, the process and subsequent findings were the same. Interesting, the house is a facade. She wondered what his actual net worth was. If he was truly poor. If he was living in excess. If he had squandered his wealth. If he was simply trying to appear more successful than he actually was. She frowned, not because she pitied him but because she would get back less than hoped.
Odd.
She grew tired after the third and decided to follow the intended path. She walked towards the stairs, to her right was a number of portrait paintings. All of them of the same man and in many cases it would appear that the artist took 'artistic liberties.' It was no surprise to her that Hirotomi was a narcissist, most men of his station were. She stopped before one of the paintings, he was wearing a white suit and a brimmed hat. She studied the features, it was the only one that seemed remotely close to being accurate. She continued on, this was an adventure she would need to see herself through.
When she reached the top of the stair she would hear the sound of piano music playing. The timing uncanny, she looked for a trip wire, a depression in the floor but saw none. It was an eerie melody and she could not help but scoff at the cliche. The music grew louder as she descended the steps. When she reached the bottom she found herself in a grand foyer, it was larger than she expected. Sh glanced in either direction. The music was coming from the left and there was a warm glow that came from the room adjacent. The right was hardly lit and seemed cavernous but it made little sense since she had reached the terminal point of the hallway when she found the stair. In front of her was a front door and it was unguarded and she wondered if it was unlocked. She was if nothing else curious so she grasped the knob but it refused to turn. She broke the knob like she did the others but she could not push this door out, it had to be drawn in. She inseted her finger in the hollow of the damaged door where the knob once sat and tried to pull the door in but it refused. It was deadbolted from the outside.
From the outside?
Another nonsensical thing to mentally list, and she did. She considered walking the other way, to test and to learn but she already had her answer. The front door told her everything that she needed to know. So she turned left and followed the sound of music to what appeared to be a sitting room. There was thick wine colored carpet underfoot and rich, heavy wooden pieces of furniture placed throughout the room. It was a show of extravagance. To her left was a black grand piano that was in her opinion too large for the given room space allotted. Behind the piano, allegedly playing was one Aburabuta Hirotomi or so that was what she was intended to believe.
"Good afternoon Oracle, it would seem that you have the constitution of a teenager," he commented as the music came to an end.
"The term you intended was 'somnophile' but sadly the term has alternative connotations in the modern day," Michi responded with a sardonic grin.
"Have you learned what you," Hirotomi started to needle her but his statement would be interrupted.
"I already know," Michi affirmed. "I know the difference between reality and illusion and I know when I am being invaded," she claimed.
"Then break out."
"I have already tried, you know that. But I also know that illusions such as this require a massive store of chakra and can only be maintained for seconds... so it is my perception of time that has also ben skewed," she reasoned as she took a seat. There was no reason to remain standing, she was not really there. "It was the piano,"</B><B> she would announce after a few moments of awkward silence. Everything else I could reason away except for that,"[/color] she pointed. "Stupidity... arrogance... and hubris could be used to explain everything else, but I am a woman of raw logic and I know that there is no such thing as a coincidence."
"So you planned this encounter?" The avatar laughed, "and you claim I am the on who suffers from conceit."
She nodded, "yes."
Her reply was answered with a snickering laughter.
"You stole it, right?" She was looking at him as she said that, her gaze seemed to burn into him. "After you took me, you went to my hotel room. Where I foolishly advertised the location of a potentially rare and powerful tool. And now you are trying to learn who I am valued by." She explained what he was doing, yes but that did not man that she anticipated it. That she planned for it. That she had an out. She did not seem worried. "You see Mister Aburabuta, I came here to rob you. I know, it seems utterly cliche but I am stealing from the rich... you and I am giving to the poor... me."
"From inside my illusion?" He scoffed, "...right."
"You mean prison," she corrected him. She did not know where she was but she knew that she was not left unbound and free but she did not need to move. She did not need to lift a finger. "I am not going anywhere," she assured him "...yet." Hirotomi stood up and approached her, she did not move. Rather she raised an arched brow when his shadow passed over her. "You really do not want to do that," she warned him. But he was feeling confident and he would pay no heed, she expected such. It was not as if she could tell a lie.
"Tell me, by what means does one become an Oracle?"
"The same method as one earns wealth -- inheritance and diligence."
"What do you know?"
"More than you and wrong question," she replied.
"Tell me of my future then."
"You are about to be robbed blind, but that is hardly your greatest concern..."
"What is my greatest concern at this present time then?"
"Finally, the right question," she raised her hand and pointed past him. "Look behind you," she pointed weakly.
Yes, the illusion for her was gone, it has faded away a few seconds earlier. His time was up and they were not alone. Behind Aburabuta was the construct, the brass did not glisten but that was because they were in a cell. "The problem with inception is the fact that you lose yourself in the process," Michi explained as her eyes lowered and she noticed a pair of unusual spectacles on his face. Those were not his eyes. She did not have time to give the halt command before its arms came crashing down on Hirotomi's back. The glasses, apparently organic, shattered as Hirotomi crumbled onto the floor. When he fell he was eye level with her, her arms were restrained behind her back and her ankles were also tied together. He was cautious but not cautious enough, as reality hit her she realized she was in the same room she was in when she woke up in the illusion. Meaning that she was likely on the second floor. That she knew how to find the front door. The room had more detail. More color.
The construct broke her binds. She rubbed her wrists in front of her. She wondered how many guards he actually had. She wondered how many the construct had already incapacitated as it followed its directive. It did not matter, they were inside and it was always easier to break out than it was to break in. They were going to take all they could find and then flee. Who was he going to complain to? How was he going to explain her crime -- the woman he kidnapped robbed him blind and assaulted his men. At least she did not kill them. She pulled the pillowcase off of one of the pillows and started to search Hirotiomi's pockets.
The piercing cry of an alarm woke her from her slumber.
She opened her eyes and saw only blackness. It was dark and her head was pounding. She felt nauseated and the back of her throat burned, as if she had spent the night vomiting but she could not remember doing so. This must be what it is like to have a hangover. She was never much of a drinker, it dulled her senses but she had read about it and witnessed the symptoms in others. With a groan she would try to sit up, her foggy mind struggling to recall the series of events that left her in her probable predicament. She could feel the springs beneath her grouse as she shifted her weight. She was apparently in a bed. She did not remember retiring to a bed, but through hazy lenses she could see large red numbers in the darkness.
9:00
She reached for the numbers, almost instinctively as she blindly searched for an off-button. For something that would stop that shrill noise that seemed to burrow into her brain. She would miss, misjudging the distance and her hand would glide on past, her balance askew she too would topple off the edge of the bed onto the floor. The landing was far from noiseless as her hand reached up and slapped at the clock, finally by pure luck and coincidence would the alarm be turned off. The silence would be welcome but this would only be the start of the great mystery of the day -- where was she and what happened?
She thought she could remember but she could not recall. She was in a place. What was the place again? And why -- why was she there? She gripped the bed sheets, they were silky and soft. It was quite odd, she thought hers were generally rougher and more cotton-like than sateen. She fondled the sheets, bewildered as she rose to her feet. She was not steady but she was able to somehow stand. She stumbled and her hand rapped around a narrow, carved column. A poster? Wait, she did not have a poster bed. Her hand lingered and she felt the hardwood beneath her hand, she did not recognize it. A moment of panic was felt, a fire trepidation that came with revelation and recollection.
She was hunting Aburabuta and she was captured. Where was she? Her eyes scanned the room, it was pitch black but there were slivers of dim light. A window with heavy curtains... three. A door. Instinct would dictate that she should head to the door, seek escape but experience warned her otherwise. She needed to collect data. So she staggered half-blind to the window, she could feel hot bile creep up the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and felt the vomit wash away. Her hand brushed the curtain, it felt like velvet. She shifted the voluminous window covering to the side and daylight filtered into the room. She squinted and felt a pain in the front of her head. She was on the second floor. She could see slate shingles and a verdant, well-manicured lawn. Her hands gripped the sill and she attempted to open the window, it would not budge. She would grunt with exertion as she tried a second time. Was the window nailed shut?
She pulled the curtains open wide, the rings would run along the length of the rod and flank the window. She would look behind her, the room was spacious. A large, four poster bed made from a darkly stained hardwood sat alone. Heavy comforters layered on top of the mattress seemed odd, in Wind Country it was hardly a sign of luxury. Rather it was a nonsensical option a resident would never take. Strange. Come to think of it, the grass was also unusual, the earth was too sandy and the air too arid for sod such as this to grow. She pressed her palm against the pane of glass, it felt cool. Where is this place? It was a worrisome concept, being a place unanticipated. She took pride in knowing everything, some things before they even happened. But right now she felt hung over and disoriented.
What else could she learn?
There was a large open space between the foot of the bed and the far side of the room that held a large, heavy armoire carved from the same dark wood as the bed and a full length mirror. She was curious, it was a flaw. She approached the armoire but as she did so she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She did not recognize it. Her body was still new, it felt like she was piloting this form rather than living as it. The face was so round and so young, she lifted this body... her body's hand to the... her face and frowned. She should be elated, most women would be thrilled to take on a younger form when their better years were already behind them but she never cared about her youth. There was a sense of loss but she knew it was necessary. She knew that what she was had to be destroyed if she wanted to complete her directive, it was just done with a sense of pain and regret. The seals were gone and she was free to act of her own accord. She would stare with partial disbelief. She realized the change weeks ago but her mind refused to grasp her new hybrid nature.
She would repay her debt to him before she killed Shiro.
Yes, she owed Mikaboshi for this new curse. This loss of her former identity. Because she lacked value beyond what she knew and that never changed. She now had autonomy to fight back because she only lost herself, not what she had achieved. Mikaboshi did what nobody else was willing or cared to do -- to end her suffering but preserve what she knew. She would get him a new body and Aburabuta would be the supplier. Little did she know that Mikaboshi's prison was shattered in her absence. That her efforts now would be moot but she would -try- all the same.
She opened the armoire. It was empty less a small pile of clothes neatly piled on the base. There was a note folded on top that was written simply Wear Me It was similar to the attire she donned in the desert, albeit better quality. Heavier also, unsuitable for the excursions she had endured these past few weeks. Would she comply? No, she would not. She desired a sense of control and wearing these slightly bloodied clothes was better than taking charity from her captor. She closed the door without disturbing the garments left for her.
It was time to leave.
The door in her room was unlocked, it was slightly more unsettling being unlocked. Did he truly think she was such a little threat? It was almost insulting. She ambled into the hall, it was long and lit by overhead chandeliers. Was this intended to be a self guided tour. To her left was a hall with a visible terminal point. To her right was also a hall with a curved staircase that led to spaces below. Of the two, one of these paths was more logical than the other. She would defy logic, the path was prepared for her. She would turn left and amble down the hall, testing the doors she passed. They were all locked which did not surprise her. Upon reaching the third she would stop, the room choice was random, and she would grip the handle and then snap the brass knob hard to the left breaking the quality furnishing in the process. Indoor doors often lacked a deadbolt and these proved to be no exception.
She entered the room, the lightswitch was adjacent to the door. She broke into a... bathroom.
The marble floors glistened and the glass shower looked essentially unused. The room smelled like cedar, an illogical wood choice considering the humid conditions but that was irrelevant. She was learning. She knew where she was, well she knew who owned the place in which she was at the very least. She had done her research on the Aburabuta family before. The Aburabuta family, or rather Aburabuta Yutaka was publicly remembered as a wealthy philanthropist in Wind Country before the maelstrom. He had no official heir, but there were several young men and women scattered through Wind Country that claimed lineage, among them Hirotomi was the only one that has shown any evidence of being capable of following in his alleged father's footsteps. He started wealthy, his mother was a 'starving actress' that seemed to come into money in her later years for one reason or another. Some believe that supported his claim to the Aburabuta name but in the end it would prove irrelevant because Hirotomi would make himself into Yutaka's legacy, blood-ties or not.
That was why she was here... She needed him.
Over the years Hirotomi, much like his 'father' gained his wealth through illicit means. He was a businessman first, a law-abiding, ethical man second. He was slowly amassing power in the Suna underworld and she suspected that he was amassing his wealth through arms deals and human trafficking. His aspiration to become a Merchant Lord was also no secret and in his case it would be a weakness. He was a man that liked to display his wealth. Hubris and greed would be his vices, possibly vanity. She backed out of the bathroom and tested the next door. Also locked. Knob also broken in her hand. Inside this room, nothing. A true oddity. The room was quite large, but there was no wall coverings. There was no overhead light fixture. There was no furniture. The only object in the room was a pair of heavy curtains hanging from a rod. Noted. She went to the next room, the process and subsequent findings were the same. Interesting, the house is a facade. She wondered what his actual net worth was. If he was truly poor. If he was living in excess. If he had squandered his wealth. If he was simply trying to appear more successful than he actually was. She frowned, not because she pitied him but because she would get back less than hoped.
Odd.
She grew tired after the third and decided to follow the intended path. She walked towards the stairs, to her right was a number of portrait paintings. All of them of the same man and in many cases it would appear that the artist took 'artistic liberties.' It was no surprise to her that Hirotomi was a narcissist, most men of his station were. She stopped before one of the paintings, he was wearing a white suit and a brimmed hat. She studied the features, it was the only one that seemed remotely close to being accurate. She continued on, this was an adventure she would need to see herself through.
When she reached the top of the stair she would hear the sound of piano music playing. The timing uncanny, she looked for a trip wire, a depression in the floor but saw none. It was an eerie melody and she could not help but scoff at the cliche. The music grew louder as she descended the steps. When she reached the bottom she found herself in a grand foyer, it was larger than she expected. Sh glanced in either direction. The music was coming from the left and there was a warm glow that came from the room adjacent. The right was hardly lit and seemed cavernous but it made little sense since she had reached the terminal point of the hallway when she found the stair. In front of her was a front door and it was unguarded and she wondered if it was unlocked. She was if nothing else curious so she grasped the knob but it refused to turn. She broke the knob like she did the others but she could not push this door out, it had to be drawn in. She inseted her finger in the hollow of the damaged door where the knob once sat and tried to pull the door in but it refused. It was deadbolted from the outside.
From the outside?
Another nonsensical thing to mentally list, and she did. She considered walking the other way, to test and to learn but she already had her answer. The front door told her everything that she needed to know. So she turned left and followed the sound of music to what appeared to be a sitting room. There was thick wine colored carpet underfoot and rich, heavy wooden pieces of furniture placed throughout the room. It was a show of extravagance. To her left was a black grand piano that was in her opinion too large for the given room space allotted. Behind the piano, allegedly playing was one Aburabuta Hirotomi or so that was what she was intended to believe.
"Good afternoon Oracle, it would seem that you have the constitution of a teenager," he commented as the music came to an end.
"The term you intended was 'somnophile' but sadly the term has alternative connotations in the modern day," Michi responded with a sardonic grin.
"Have you learned what you," Hirotomi started to needle her but his statement would be interrupted.
"I already know," Michi affirmed. "I know the difference between reality and illusion and I know when I am being invaded," she claimed.
"Then break out."
"I have already tried, you know that. But I also know that illusions such as this require a massive store of chakra and can only be maintained for seconds... so it is my perception of time that has also ben skewed," she reasoned as she took a seat. There was no reason to remain standing, she was not really there. "It was the piano,"</B><B> she would announce after a few moments of awkward silence. Everything else I could reason away except for that,"[/color] she pointed. "Stupidity... arrogance... and hubris could be used to explain everything else, but I am a woman of raw logic and I know that there is no such thing as a coincidence."
"So you planned this encounter?" The avatar laughed, "and you claim I am the on who suffers from conceit."
She nodded, "yes."
Her reply was answered with a snickering laughter.
"You stole it, right?" She was looking at him as she said that, her gaze seemed to burn into him. "After you took me, you went to my hotel room. Where I foolishly advertised the location of a potentially rare and powerful tool. And now you are trying to learn who I am valued by." She explained what he was doing, yes but that did not man that she anticipated it. That she planned for it. That she had an out. She did not seem worried. "You see Mister Aburabuta, I came here to rob you. I know, it seems utterly cliche but I am stealing from the rich... you and I am giving to the poor... me."
"From inside my illusion?" He scoffed, "...right."
"You mean prison," she corrected him. She did not know where she was but she knew that she was not left unbound and free but she did not need to move. She did not need to lift a finger. "I am not going anywhere," she assured him "...yet." Hirotomi stood up and approached her, she did not move. Rather she raised an arched brow when his shadow passed over her. "You really do not want to do that," she warned him. But he was feeling confident and he would pay no heed, she expected such. It was not as if she could tell a lie.
"Tell me, by what means does one become an Oracle?"
"The same method as one earns wealth -- inheritance and diligence."
"What do you know?"
"More than you and wrong question," she replied.
"Tell me of my future then."
"You are about to be robbed blind, but that is hardly your greatest concern..."
"What is my greatest concern at this present time then?"
"Finally, the right question," she raised her hand and pointed past him. "Look behind you," she pointed weakly.
Yes, the illusion for her was gone, it has faded away a few seconds earlier. His time was up and they were not alone. Behind Aburabuta was the construct, the brass did not glisten but that was because they were in a cell. "The problem with inception is the fact that you lose yourself in the process," Michi explained as her eyes lowered and she noticed a pair of unusual spectacles on his face. Those were not his eyes. She did not have time to give the halt command before its arms came crashing down on Hirotomi's back. The glasses, apparently organic, shattered as Hirotomi crumbled onto the floor. When he fell he was eye level with her, her arms were restrained behind her back and her ankles were also tied together. He was cautious but not cautious enough, as reality hit her she realized she was in the same room she was in when she woke up in the illusion. Meaning that she was likely on the second floor. That she knew how to find the front door. The room had more detail. More color.
The construct broke her binds. She rubbed her wrists in front of her. She wondered how many guards he actually had. She wondered how many the construct had already incapacitated as it followed its directive. It did not matter, they were inside and it was always easier to break out than it was to break in. They were going to take all they could find and then flee. Who was he going to complain to? How was he going to explain her crime -- the woman he kidnapped robbed him blind and assaulted his men. At least she did not kill them. She pulled the pillowcase off of one of the pillows and started to search Hirotiomi's pockets.
[Topic Left after she robs the place blind]
[S Rank -- 30 min]
[S Rank -- 30 min]
She knew the difference between making a scene and biding her time, she was never one to rush but now more than ever she had the ability to wait for lady luck to shine in her favor. The guards were already incapacitated, those that saw her fight that is. The reaction of those who came for her would tell her volumes about their intentions. How many people were involved in her abduction? She hypothesized that the Merchant Lord hopeful's intentions were limited to those on his payroll and from what she recalled, and she never forgot a thing, he killed his former subordinates once their usefulness elapsed. She had learned a few things from that previous encounter and from that she created a conceptual framework for future encounters with Aburabuta and his ilk. 
The attack on the harbor happened almost two years ago and I believe that she is dead. I can only hope that was her fate, better dead than in their hands I have always said. I knew the story well enough. A woman nearly drowned at Soons Harbor whom was rescued by a cloaked, pallid young man. The civilians seemed to remember the 'monster' that caused the incident that wrecked the docks and took the lives of nearly a dozen men and women more so than the lavender haired woman or the silver-headed man that took her away. Some remembered better the people that they lost, the death toll was eleven last I knew. The attack was abrupt in how it started and also in how it ended because it was part of her plan. She was a foolish woman, always putting her life at the lowest of priorities and that was why she had been lost.
