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Ryojin
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PostSubject: Blood Dragon   January 8th 2017, 7:00 pm

Japan
"Come on, Ryo. This is your fifth fight this week. Don't you think you're pushing your limitations?" McCabe questioned, sitting across the small black lacquer bar, nursing a cheap whiskey.

"You know me, McCabe. I have to keep moving, focus on something or I will lose my damn mind." She replied, wiping down the bar top with a damp cloth. She worked in the infamous Tiger Gate Bar, a front for the Black Jade Brotherhood, a sect of well trained assassins and ninjas. It had once been owned by Trine, the very first of Draven's Children and Ryojin's Master. She was not your average woman, nor was she your typical Shifter. She had been orphaned, sold into slavery as an infant by parents whom were described to her as being Japanese and American. That had been a very long time ago. When she was four, her slavers had discovered her unique abilities. She was a pure breed Shifter, born from a long and forgotten royal bloodline. Ryojin was the last Dragon Shifter, able to morph into one of the most deadly and mythical creatures known throughout any culture. She had been sold to various biddered who had high hopes of breeding with the Dragon Princess. Every one of them she had killed.

Trine had stumbled on her by accident. The Black Jade Brotherhood had gone after her latest purchaser, killing everyone associated with the great Lord Shinto. Ryojin had been laying sound asleep, suspended in a guilded cage on display in the Lord's personal chambers. The Brotherhood had nearly killed her, but Trine had stopped them.

"This is a creature of great power and beauty. It would be dishonorable to slay her."

She had remembered his words clearly, and they had immediately sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with fear. Upon her release from that damnable cage, she had sworn to serve him until he had no use of her, or had set her free. Over the years, he trained her to defend herself, to accept the way of the Samuari, the Ronin as her own code. But it wasn't until his near destruction of Sanguine that he had admitted he loved her.

Lot of good it did her now since he was dead.

McCabe sighed softly, running the palms of his hands over his face.

"Trine would kill me if he found out I was providing you with venues to fight at, Ryo." He said softly, wanting nothing more than to honor his friends last wish of watching over Ryojin.

"I doubt that. He knew I was quite capable of defending myself."

She did have a point. Trine was not exactly known to be on the good side of the line, but if there was one thing he had treasured above all else, it had been her.
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Trine
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PostSubject: Re: Blood Dragon   January 11th 2017, 12:01 am

"I always hated my mother..."

A dark yet fluid voice spoke out. It carried with it, the minor twinge of an accent that could be traced back to the islands of Japan.

"She was weak, and took her own life after my father's death. You see, back then... This was the honorable rite, to take one's own life. But what of the boy left behind?"

Blood flecked face pushed out of the shadows staring down upon something just out of view. An intent, almost stoic glare within those dark eyes.

"Well, for him honor was important, but you see? Honor is nothing without the power to capitulate. No, the boy treasured honor, but he thirsted for power."

Eyes were almond shape, irises a hazelnut so deep they seemed almost black... Facial hair was well kept and used to trace the natural contours of a strong jaw, and encapsulate lips now contorted in a slight, yet certainly confident smile.

"So I sought power, and I found it; honorably. Like my father before me, I wielded the sword, and I cut men down by the dozens. Yet still I never did overcome the distaste of being deserted by my mother. I was obsessed with it, It became a complex."

The enigmatic male obviously of Japanese descent gave a soft chuckle. Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasping together.

"It was a motivator, and soon it was a complex that soon faded, you see... I was healed of many things soon after. Mortality is a limitation, power is absolute, and it can be had, but it's the fragility of it all. Like a beautiful sculpture made of glass, it can bring awe. Until it hits the ground and shatters into nothingness. No more form, just shards and dust. You see, my Mother saved me. No... Not the weakling that drove my father's sword into her stomach. No, the woman that saved me from mortality. Who granted me true power. An Oni... Yes she was quite the beast, and she came upon me. I never did ask her what she saw in me, but her gift was something I thought I could never return."

The man's eyes glanced to the side, staring down at the floor, reminiscence in his eyes.

"We carved our names, not in history, no, history is for the weak. We carved out names into the myths and legends that the meek often recite for lifetimes. Even now the reign of destruction is still uttered where history is not written, but spoken... The years went by and a kingdom rose from the blood, and bone of our enemies. We filled it with sheep to appease those allies that we had amassed. She was a god, and I was her most trusted apostle. And her religion of violence I preached wherever I could, my power became fear. I could manipulate it, feed from it. I had found my power that the little boy had yearned for, and I had done it; honorably... Though... I fear that this story does not end happily ever after. You see, the Goddess of Death... She took pity upon the meek, they were no longer sustenance, they became subjects. Her charge... I never understood, even to this day what made her fall in love with you... You fragile things... I though perhaps it was a slip, Lifetimes passing, and she had stagnated into this state of infatuation. I tried to show her the error of her ways, but I was not ready... Not ready to do what was needed to be done. I forced her to choose between your kind, and myself. Ultimately, she choose mortality, and instead..."

Voice cracked, brows furled as hazelnut eyes shifted and glowed with an eldritch green hue.

She killed me.

The Man seemed to lose that calm, stoic gaze. Rage filled his eyes.

"They often say, that vampire's are soulless creatures, I can attest to you that is not true, and the afterlife... It can be relentless, I was once again the boy, cast aside and left to find his power, and his honor. But it is harder to find in the here after... So many rules, guidelines, checks and balances. The power in death, is immense, but I fought, I found a way. I began to see that power comes from what is left, the energy that makes up the soul."

The man's hand reached out, a finger pressing into the bloody chest of his captive audience, tendrils of glowing green energy rushing into the body, and seemed to pull out a hazy substance out of the captive's being. All to the dismay of the badly beaten individual.

"I am no thief... I took this energy by force. Little by little I began to gain power. I refused to pass on, my anger was to great. I wanted vengeance you see! This mother still lived, and I wanted to tear her apart. This was my anger, and it fueled me. I became known... Many called me a wraith, but I did not carry their guidelines... I was not bound by their law. I did not have to give my energy to the powers that be. I hoarded it, and as I grew closer to my great escape... My anger dissipated, and a reverie emerged in it's place. I do not hate my mother... No, even after she cast me aside. She has been blinded by your kind, I must return her to what she was before you see. I have to reawaken the Oni."

Lips twisted, and that smile returned, darkened by the look of dreadful determination in dark eyes.

"It was this new motivation that urged me to make my escape. It was not easy, and it took a great deal of my energy to tear my way through the veils, and barriers, but here I am! And what luck to end up in a room filled with sustenance. Though we both know it's not blood, nor fear that I hunger for."

Trine's finger's curled, his eyes alight with that luridly green hue. Tendrils of that ethereal energy swirling about the ronin's body snapped out like a scorpion's tail, drawling out that haze like material, in the shape of a humanoid, pulling it closer until it fused with Trine's own being. He breathed in, a loud shuddering sensation. It was almost intoxicating, feeling that newly taken energy flow through his reanimated form. The room was full of bodies, all still alive but staring out in a blank comatose stare. Their eyes were dead. Trine had fed off all of them, regaining some of what he lost on his return. He stood then. Bowing his head to the newly created husk.

"I thank you for your contribution to my efforts, and listening to my story."

Wicked grin given as he carefully made his way toward the door of the speak easy. Heading out into the crisp air of the Sanguine streets. Eyes gazed around, taking it all in. He was home, back to the kingdom he had once helped to create, but this was not the time for him to be reacquainted with his once-creator. There was someone else that needed to be hunted down first. Something else of his past, something treasured and left to her own devices.

Months Later, Japan

Trine had traveled for some time, regaining his strength and following the steps of the last remnant of an ancient blood line. It was almost poetic that he had traced her back to wherever thing had started; for both of them. Once he had triangulated her, it had not been hard to track her down to a bar, or at least the facade of one. He lingered in the corner, on the other side for some time. Merely just watching her, and McCabe speak. It seemed she had taken to fighting in her spare time. There was not much in this world left that was capable of standing toe to toe with a shifter of such pure lineage. As their conversation was drawing to a close. Trine glanced around, he had remained unnoticed. So many new faces in this brotherhood, the only one's that remained known were the two at the bar. At least he knew he still had an army. The though brought a soft grin to his lips.

The Ronin stalked forward, slipping in and out of the crowd with the fluid grace of a well trained swordsman. Slipping to the side of the bar.

"Yes."

Trine spoke loudly, and his voice carried and doubled in an abnormal way. Causing the entire room to fall to silence at once, all eyes shifting to the figure that looked like Trine, but certainly did not smell, or even sense the same.

"I did train you well, didn't I?"
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PostSubject: Re: Blood Dragon   January 11th 2017, 2:28 pm

Ryojin paused with the small black ceramic mug of green tea half way to her lips. Her eyes, a vivid and soul piercing jade green shifted upwards, moving slowly to take in the figure who had spoken. At first, she thought for a moment that she was seeing a ghost. How many times in the past had she heard his voice or seen a flash of his face when she closed her eyes? Too many to count, so when her eyes locked onto those familiarr handsome features, she snorted once and looked back down into her tea. She chalked it up to merely her imagination, but when a strange sensation enveloped her, making her scales itch to burst free, her head snapped up and she sputtered on the hot tea that got awkward caught in her throat. Her tongue burned and her eyes watered as she coughed, the mug clattering to the bar top loudly.

"Trine?" Her voice was watery from the tea still lodged in her lungs, but it was soft and barely audible. She moved cautiously around the bar, stopping to stand a few inches from toucing him. With a shaking finger, Ryojin reached up and poked at the bicep within her reach. Her heard nearly stopped when she was met with the resistance of a solid form. Fluent and unlady like curses in Japanese flew like rapid fire and she stumbled back, McCabe catching her before she fell into his lap.

He wasn't a ghost. He was as real and as solid as everything else around her.

"I saw you die.."
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PostSubject: Re: Blood Dragon   January 11th 2017, 9:18 pm

Trine stood in a statuesque fashion. He didn't move, and even in that room crowded with patrons of his own brotherhood, those dark irises remained fixated on the shifter. Disbelief was understandable, and soon she was shifting forward. Even then, the ronin did not move, all except those predatory eyes that shifted with her every motion. There he was, solid, a tangible entity standing before her, but a ghastly apparition was not far from plausible. The air around him seemed colder, even with his form being warm to the touch. Trine's lips curled in a soft grin as she reached out and touched him, only to reel back from him. Words seemed to cause motion, stepping forward and reaching out to take her hand in his own, and pull her back to stable footing.

"Yes Dragoness, you did watch me die, and die I did. My consciousness existed in the ether, I wandered aimlessly without purpose, and with no recollection of time... I stagnated in the ethereal for some time before I was able to refocus myself, I have returned... I will tell you the story another time."

There was much to tell, a tale of violence and perseverance. There was none more he wished to weave the tale to, Draven would be a close second.

"But know, that it is purpose that brought me back. Purpose gave me the strength to do what was necessary to find my way back to this world. I have returned to save Draven from herself... To make her see the err of her ways, but it is not just that retribution that motivated me."

"It was you."

Trine's eyes flashed with that emerald glow, a brief fleeting radiation that died as quickly as it came.

"The fire of betrayal was strong, to be cast down by my maker proved to be truly powerful, but my rage paled when compared to the desire to return to you. There is vindication to be had, but I will not have it without you by my side once again. Say you will join me... Say you will return to Sanguine with me."

Still Trine had not even taken a moment to glance around the room, even though it remained captivated in a silent awe. He had been killed, struck down by his very creator. How could he ever had returned? Was it truly possible?
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PostSubject: Re: Blood Dragon   January 12th 2017, 2:30 pm

Ryojin owned a great deal to Trine. He had saved her from a live of servitude, a life of endless unwanted breeding with men who wanted nothing more from her than their own carnal pleasure. She was a Dragon afterall, the last of a very powerful race, a very pure Bloodline. They had called her a Half-breed because of her Japanese-American heritage but they did not understant the extent of her lineage. Both of her parents had been Dragons as well, but it was her who had been gifted, prophecy of a legendary ability. Most Dragons were elemental in nature. Earth, Air, Fire and Water but she had been born with Death, the power to wield Necrosis and call upon the dead. It was a very rare gift, one her parents had abandoned her for.

When Trine's hand touched hers, tendrils of that errie green Necrotic energy twisted and spiraled around her fingers.

"You`re a Revanant." She whispered softly, and they both knew she wasn't speaking of those Humans Draven had under her command. She was speaking of the being that was both alive and dead. A being that carried powerful abilities back with it from the ether. Fascinated by the intense draw she felt; more so than she had evern felt in the past, she trailed a fingertip lightly over his forearm, watching as the tendrils of energy seemed to connect them together like a magnet to metal. Her eyes flashed the same eerie neon green, glowing with some kind of inner light. As she spoke next, her breath smoked, puffing outward in a small cloud.

"You came for me?" She asked, her expression softening.
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