The night lights and noises of Hosenka at midnight were a change of pace for one Tomoe Tanaka. No longer was he out in the boonies of Dahlia, filthy as it was. He didn't need to worry about the reeking cow shit and constant nasal assault that was the smell of fresh werewolf piss. As a hunter he was required to take in those scents, internalize them, and act according to them; but as a person, it was annoying and altogether weathering on his psyche. He had once again forgotten who he was in the passionate act of becoming someone he wasn't, and it was getting easier to completely blank out on the names of people so dear to him under normal circumstances. Even Aegis. More than that, even the existence of a person named Tomoe was almost lost every time he took up a new face. Was it cowardly to hide his deeds behind the physique of another?

Yeah, probably., he thought, finally sitting up on his bed.

He was resting at an inn in Hosenka, a place he couldn't say he'd visited before tonight. Having just arrived from Dahlia, it was definitely a nice change of things. His room was dimmed, with the only source of light being the small lamp that sat atop the nightstand next to his bed. The only noise other than the distant celebratory cheers and outside walking of evening drunks was the wooden 60 BPM metronome that played its punctual tune. Tomoe didn't know why but he always found himself able to be more relaxed when in the presence of such a device.

Shadows grew large with the small source of light, almost spinning and circling as if to devour the room whole. Within such a void, the Joyan couldn't help but feel insignificant. Despite this, it was still just a room. He could see perfectly fine in all corners of the small box of an inn room he found himself in, but that wasn't the problem. But then, what was? He'd made it, after all. He was at what should be the peak of his career as a mage, and even the fact that he had learned magic at all at his age should've been considered something of a blessing.

---

WC: 378/2,125 (15% reduced)

Tomoe reached over to the nightstand, making a definitive body movement for the first time in hours. A half-full glass lay there, its inky black liquid teasing the man to draw closer – and closer he drew. He lazily grasped the cup of swill and downed it in a single motion without hesitation. His eyes had twinkles in them, which was probably a bad thing. Tomoe recalled asking the bartender to mix a drink together that would, “fuck him up”, and that might have been a mistake for all involved in the process. It was definitely an awful night to be lazy, because no matter what he did, the crimson cutthroat simply couldn't get to sleep. Something plagued and scratched at his mind, as if his night wasn't done yet. Even after the travel and the drinks and snacks, he felt unabated in his desire for something he couldn't shake off.

It was then that a letter slid from underneath the door to his room. With an eyebrow raised and the alcoholic sparkles in his eyes being forced away with a smack of his own deliverance, he knelt and retrieved the letter. Returning to his bed near the lamp for light he didn't need – force of habit more than anything – he ripped it open and scanned the contents of it.

“We have been watching you for a long time, Mr. Tanaka. Your efforts to commit illegal acts under the names and faces of others has not gone unnoticed, and you have thus caught the eye of our organization. Have you ever wondered why your bounty has risen despite hiding your tracks? If you comply, we will have no need to take further action against you. We request your assistance in a matter most grave. A golden wedding ring has been stolen from one of our associates, and as per their request, we will need it back with minimal bloodshed. Attached below is the address where the thieves meet, organized under the name of the Bloodhaven Gang. Burn this message after reading it.”

Tomoe finished reading the note and memorized the attached address. All that was swimming in his mind was the thought that he would not only need to comply with the demands of these unknown blackmailers, but also to kill them at the first possible opportunity. Nobody could be allowed to know of his secrets, especially not of one so crucial to him. For now, though, there was nothing to be done other than to follow what they say. Knowledge that one of their shadows could be lurking behind his own at any point made his skin crawl. He balled his fists in rage, half tempted to smash the nightstand into pieces at that moment... but refrained.

At the very least, this mysterious organization didn't seem malicious or want him to do anything worse than he'd already done under the faces of others. Hell, they even asked that he keep the killing to a minimum. What an odd idea.

---

WC: 880/2,125 (15% reduced)

Releasing his tension, Tomoe began to focus on the real task at hand: completing the job set out for him and reclaiming the obscurity and secrecy he loved so dearly. “Guess there's nothing else to it.”, he muttered, gearing up for the job ahead of him – a job that was no doubt more important than many before, due to its threat to his own privacy as well.

Before making for the gang's hideout, Tomoe would toss the note into his room's fireplace. Igniting it with non-magical means due to his inability to use fire magic – probably for the better – he left his room with everything he would need. Well, not that he needed to ensure much, as the magic ring he wore that stored his gear would see to it that he always had everything he needed. That being said, his cloak was necessary now rather than later. He'd withdraw the cloak from his ring, shrouding himself in it, and was then on his way to the gang's hideout.

Normally, Tomoe might mess around on the way to a job. Pick a fight, talk some shit, hit and be hit back, so on and so forth. However, the Joyan only had one thing on his mind as he walked towards the given address: taking back something precious belonging to someone else. He'd known the gang life in the past, and how much it could consume a person's soul. Heck, he couldn't even say he was fully done living the gang life even now, with the money he was making off of crime now and again. There'd be no more of that in the future, though! Tomoe was fully reformed and completely pure. There wasn't an evil bone in the man's body, that was for sure. Instead of evil, he would only strive for goodness and kindness. Heroism. Love. These kinds of things were ever so present in his head even as he bonked one of the gang members over the head and dragged his unconscious body down into a sketchy alleyway.

The Crimson Quarter was, of course, the place to be for gang activity. Unfortunately for those gangs, it was also home to many hidey holes and dark corners. The poor sap's body was dragged away into a pile of trash after a brief strip of his clothing. Tomoe put his own clothes away into his ring and instead wore the clothes and colors of some random lackey nobody would care about; and just the same way that nobody would care about or remember him, the Joyan was free to choose any face he wanted to replace the nameless thug. He shouldn't stand out much, of course, but at the same time he had to be loud enough to draw some attention onto himself.

---

WC: 1,347/2,125 (15% reduced)

Disguised as Neil Darby:

After gagging and tying up the unconscious mook and shoving him into a pile of trash four feet deep, Tomoe wiped his hands clean of dust and grime. It wasn't a glamorous job, but covering his tracks was mandatory in a situation like this – he couldn't be discovered before he had gotten far enough into their ranks. He'd do so by any means necessary, of course. For a moment he'd blankly stare up at the stars above in thought, wondering whether he was ready.

Eh, I guess it doesn't matter if I am or I ain't. I gotta be., Tomoe thought, clenching his fists and tensing himself up for the duty ahead.

He had to secure his secrecy, and to do that he had to do this job right. He would use secrecy to reclaim his secrecy. Moments before leaving the alley, Tomoe's face and body had become that of another.

“Heyo, fuck-o's, how's it goin'?! Neil Darby is in the HOUUUUUSE!”, the gang member known as Neil Darby exclaimed, sauntering over to some shady fellows wearing the same outfit as him.

His red and white leather jacket shone, and sunglasses... well, only Neil Darby, Alpha Killer of the Bloodhaven Gang, would be so brave and dashing as to wear sunglasses at night. He boogied and jiggied his way over to his fellows and shot them finger guns. An open and gaped grin that could only be described as “loud” and a chortle that could only be described as “dolphin-like” made themselves known as Neil draped a friendly arm around the nearest and meanest looking guy he could find. They were in the middle of a surprisingly clean lot that smelled of cigarettes and crushed dreams. Neil felt more confident than usual tonight, but with such a simple guise, Tomoe was not even able to be suppressed underneath it. Normally he would be swallowed by his characters, but with Neil the veil was so thin that it almost didn't feel like playing a character... and the very thought of that disgusted the crimson cutthroat.

---

WC: 1,692/2,125 (15% reduced)

Spells used:

Disguised as Neil Darby:

Oh my god, what a douchebag., Tomoe thought, Neil tipping the brim of his snapback and boogying over to a fine looking woman wearing the same gang colors who he could swear was giving him bedroom eyes.

“Hey baby, you come here often, or are you just happy to see me?”, Neil inquired, swinging his arms from side to side and 'getting jiggy with it' while doing that one dance move where the person pretends to be dunking their head underwater and shaking around.

The woman giggled and tapped the top of his snapback as she leaned in closer. Tomoe, almost in a spirit-like form observing this play out in third person, couldn't comprehend how this was working when it had failed with his own face so many times. By now he'd normally be getting slapped or had a drink tossed in his face. Was... was the Alpha Killer real? Was he taking up the face of Neil Darby, or was Neil Darby's spirit inside him all along?

“Yeah, that's the spirit, baby. Tip me. Tip me so good.”, Neil continued with a toothy grin.

At that moment, the woman backed away with a look of concern. She pointed to a place behind Neil as she looked up. Turning around with the same look of swagger, he was greeted with a fist to his face that sent his sunglasses crashing to the ground in pieces and his own body spiralling backwards. Mr. Darby looked back up after recovering from the recoil to see a rather giant, muscular and scarred man winding up a follow-up attack, which the Alpha Killer narrowly stepped to avoid.

“That's MY girl, you fuckin' asshole! Who even are you, little fuckin' pansy ass bitch?”, the hulking monstrosity of a man began to speak.

However, the Alpha Killer wouldn't have any of it. Losing his sunglasses meant his limiters were removed. There was no holding back the power of God now.

“I'm the Alpha Killer. And who do you think you are, Beefcake?”

Before Beefcake could respond, Neil was upon him with a rush of attacks. With two punches, Beefcake's torso made a cracking sound. Another kick swept him off his feet. A final stomp on the giant's throat saw to him gasping for air desperately as he bled and wailed.

This caused others to rush Neil, but they were met with similar fates. He didn't look back, but Neil knew that the woman he had liberated from her freakish lover was looking at him with shining adoration.

“Well, maybe one look.”, Neil muttered and looked back to see nobody; the woman had already fled the scene, and that shot him through the heart – she definitely gave love a bad name.

That look was all it took for a sneak hit. Of course it was a sneak hit. That was the only thing that could  even attempt to fell the Alpha Killer. A smack across the face with a chain-wrapped fist definitely left a sting, but Neil looked back with a reddened glow in his eyes. He'd been heartbroken tonight, and there'd be no mercy left. The poor chap that gave him a cheap shot was axe kicked into a crater, which seemed to be the final straw for the increasing number of gang members getting in on the brawl. Neil was about to continue on his rampage when he noticed he couldn't move.

Looking down, he saw roots growing around his feet. Taking a look around, he saw about five mages from the gang casting binding spells on him at the same time.

“Ugh. Well this sucks. Y'all gonna let me shotgun a beer for my troubles once this is all done? I need some stress relief and you guys are really killing my vibe right now.”, Neil stated, raising his hands in surrender but definitely bummed out that for some reason they wouldn't recognize his Alpha Killer status.

---

WC: 2,125/2,125 (15% reduced)

Spells used:

Disguised as Neil Darby:

After being blindfolded, Neil was carried off for minutes on end. When the blindfold was taken off, he was in some kind of lounge area. Dim lights, sorrowful music, and many women. Around him was two henchmen who had carried him here, about eight half-naked women, and...

“Hello, Neil. How was your trip?”

Neil's jaw dropped. In front of him, seated across on a leather armchair, was the woman he had flirted with minutes ago. For the first time he noticed the earring she wore on her left ear, which seemed to actually be a golden wedding ring. His eyes widened immediately, and the woman took note of it.

“Oh, this?”, she inquired, cupping the earring and pulling it out without much effort.

“Is this what you're interested in so much that you'd try to infiltrate us, 'Alpha Killer'?”

Neil remained silent, Tomoe partially coming to his senses that the act might need to end soon. He was about ready to undo his disguise and raise hell as the swordsman Tomoe Tanaka, when...

“You can have it.”

The ring found itself tossed into Neil's open hands. Its glimmer was the real thing, and it was certainly as valuable as the gold implied it to be. It was unclear if it was more than a simple ring from what Neil could tell, as even Tomoe was still inexperienced in his knowledge of magic. Regardless, he knew these types of acts. There had to be a catch. Looking up to speak, he found himself unable to somehow. He opened his mouth and nothing happened. Looking at the woman, it seemed she knew this.

“I'm Silk Bloodhaven. This is my gang, this is my domain, and these are my bitches...”, the woman known as Silk allowed herself to be smothered in kisses and sensual touches from the eight women around her, but Neil as the good Illumin worshipping man that he was, couldn't allow himself to go into the specifics of it as a nervous blush crept across his face.

“Hmhmhm~... and I'm going to let you go, with a catch. Nothing much really. Simply that in the future, I'll ask a favor of the Alpha Killer, and I'll expect him to give it his all like I saw him give it out in that lot only but a few minutes prior. You put our main muscle, Reggie, out of business for a few months with that assault, and we need someone to fill in. Understood?”

Within a second after she finished, Neil felt as if tape was ripped off his mouth allowing him to speak. It was obvious that his next words would decide a lot, but he wasn't one to back down from a life of crime. Regardless, he took a big gulp of saliva, nervous at what might happen if he declined. Despite being in the same skin as Tomoe Tanaka, Neil didn't share the same gung ho attitude or reckless, brave stupidity. Well, the stupidity was still there. He'd had many stupid moments throughout his adventures that he swore he really had, but he was still a regular guy at the end of the day. A regular guy that could deliver earth-shattering axe kicks, wear sunglasses at night and make for damn fine conversation with anyone and everyone, but... still a regular guy, ultimately. Sadly, the limits of mortality didn't allow him to become anything beyond that so he'd need to settle for simply being the best human around.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, Ms. Silk. Neil's got you covered in any way you need me to be!”, Neil replied, knowing that he definitely wouldn't uphold his end of the bargain.

He felt a stinging on the back of his hand, and looked down. The engraving of a black snake tattoo had found itself on his left hand, and he could take a guess at what it meant.

“That tattoo is proof of your bond to us. If you refuse to answer our call when the time comes, its magic will see to your demise. Remember that, Neil Darby.”

At that, Neil was once again blindfolded and sent out on his way. The important thing was that he'd been successful in retrieving the ring, and as he set foot onto the cold and unforgiving wasteland that was the Crimson Quarter's night life, he thought that for the moment that was enough. Tomoe, on the other hand, knew that there was a lot more at stake. He was now known to an unknown organization, and in debt to a criminal organization. A criminal organization led by a very attractive but sadistic mage. That sounded exactly like Neil's type of thing, but Tomoe wasn't sold on the idea. Before everything was said and done, many would need to lose their lives over this. For now, though, he needed to get the ring back and have a rest.

“Let's go crack some brews open!”, Neil shouted to nobody in particular, because nobody was there.

Because nobody liked Neil Darby.

---

WC: 2,125/2,125 (15% reduced)

Spells used:

- EXIT -