100 Themes for ParaShi.

1) Introduction

It was an introduction that would become one of the most infamous in the history of the Ginsenkei.

It seemed odd that they should have to introduce themselves to each other even after they had fought beside one another, but certain niceties had to be preserved it would seem.

Most people would be honoured to be introduced to the crown prince of the elementalists. Ryuu wasn't most people.

Ryuu extended his hand.

Taiki bowed.

The end result being that Taiki got a face full of Ryuu's palm.

Then Nobu came by.

The ensuing fight destroyed over half the Ginsenkei compound.


2) Element

It had been his life.

He could count the feathers on a flying bird fifty paces away, and hit it with an arrow from a hundred.

That isn't to say it had been a cake walk. Oh, he was a natural, that was for sure, but genius only takes one so far. He'd worked hard for his skill.

And suddenly it wasn't worth a damn.

He'd drowned in that cursed, inky darkness, and he didn't float back up for a long time; not until he embraced it.

Now he smiles as the darkness engulfs all for it is his element.


3) Nature

As much as some would say on the contrary, mercurial he was not. True, his temperament might seem to change at the drop of a hat, but it was never on a whim.

Circumstances changed and he changed with them.

It was one of the idiosyncrasies of his people; something in the blood, crafted over hundreds of years as circumstances shifted and they adapted.

His tastes were similar; each and every one of them made his spirit sing. Many thought his small pleasures too ethereal, too immaterial.

He knows better.

All they feed is their body.

He feeds his soul.


4) Dream

It was a dream she assured herself, just a dream.

Sure as hell didn't feel like a dream.

She could feel every breathe of wind, smell the sweet grass, and the only thing wrong with the picture was the picture. Or rather, lack thereof.

'Why can't I see?' she wondered before she noticed the faintest hint of light poking at her eye. Her left eye.

She reached back and removed her makeshift eye-patch, and beheld an endless expanse of green grass, blue skies, and tumbling clouds.

And a little blue haired girl.

"Are you my onee-chan?" the girl asked curiously.


5) Challenge

People asked him why he stuck with the crew, what with all the abuse he went through.

He'd just get an odd smile on his face and he'd tell them that the abuse was exactly why he chose to stick around.

Most did an immediate about face wearing the oddest expressions, which he would file away for a later date when he needed a laugh.

They all thought he was a masochist, to a rather disturbing degree if their furtive glances to the captain were any indication.

They were wrong, though.

It was a simple challenge.

Nothing more, nothing less.


6) Book

She hissed lightly as she carefully leafed through the pages of the desiccated little tome on her hands.

Why was it that all the precious information ended up being stored in the most delicate of books?

"Hey, whatcha doin'?"

She let out an oath as she almost, almost, jumped.

"I'm looking for a speech made by the Wind of Death; I heard it's very inspiring." She irritably replied at the newcomer.

Her impromptu companion merely stared at her for a second before walking off, laughing uproariously with a glint in her eye that really didn't belong there.

"Inspirational... Heh, yeah..."


7) Out of the loop

Sometimes he wondered if the rest of the world was mad, or whether it was just him. The more time he spent in the Ginsenkei, the more he got the sinking feeling that it was a bit of both.

Hah, funny that. He was starting to realize that everything was a bit of both.

Everything used to be so simple. There was good, there was evil. No shades of grey, they didn't exist.

Then he killed his first rebel, Kei, the baker's son who always slipped orphans some bread on the side.

He didn't leave his room for a week.


8) Seriously?

Fuu rushed about the Ginsenkei camp making excited squeaking noises.

This in itself was not unusual, but members of the first generation noticed that her joy had no connections to anything even remotely banana-like in shape, colour, scent, or taste. This, as far as they were concerned, was a minor miracle.

"It is unusual to see your companion so enamoured with anything besides bananas." Taiki remarked to Ryuu. "What has made her so energetic?"

Ryuu turned to Taiki, looking as if he'd witnessed the apocalypse, and whispered a word as if it were the name of the devil himself.

"Bagpipes."


9) Homesick

Homesick.

He was homesick and he knew it. One didn't survive the kind of lifestyle he led by ignoring their own faults, however small they may be.

It wasn't the homesickness that bothered him so much as the fact that he was actually homesick in the first place.

The place wasn't even his real home. Dark, indistinct, and the oppressive feeling of secrecy that pervaded everything; no ones dream home, not by a long shot.

There was only one source of joy in that place, and suddenly he realized that it wasn't the place he missed, it was the person.


10) Memento

"You sure this is the genuine article?"

"Sure as the sun rises. I tracked it right from it's disappearance during the Restoration Era. Here, look."

"It's... stitched?"

"Yeah, remember? She took a cut to the head at the Battle of the Gate."

"To her head... So you mean...?"

"The same cut."

"Amazing. It's actually lasted all these years..."

"It belonged to one of the greatest legends of the last millennium. Of course people would take pains to protect it."

"And now it's ours. A legend stepping straight from the tales to our battlefields..."

"Worth a kings ransom wouldn't you say?"


11) Love

He still found it funny that after all the crap the universe had thrown at him, he'd been turned into a pile of misfiring nerves by a single girl. The way she threw hammers and, if his suspicions were correct anvils, probably helped.

He'd also had a blunt introduction as to why they say that love makes you do strange things. Repeatedly.

He still thinks they should attach a "Will cause severe bouts of idiocy" warning to the definition.

He's fine with it though. He'd learned that you treasure all those little memories, even the ones that weren't so good.


12) Light

Sometimes the recruits asked why he hated the light so much. It was a symbol of purity, of the righteous, of heaven they said.

Not for him.

For him it was the harbinger of death that now forever heralded the stench of ozone and roasting bodies, the shrieks of pain, and worse, the wails for mercy and the heart wracking farewells to family who would neither see them again nor hear their last words.

For him it was a constant reminder of the price his sanity would pay every time he failed to deliver a swift death.

He never answers.


13) Hatred

He was always calm, level headed, the voice of reason in any situation. He was probably one of the last people anyone would expect to harbour a deep hatred, but harbour it he did, one that words failed utterly to encompass.

It was a side-effect of the family business. You learned how to empathize with everything, and the more you could empathize, the more acts of horrible cruelty you became aware of.

It wasn't an evil hatred though. It was fuel, pure and simple. It coursed through him, yet he always ensured that not a single drop polluted his soul.


14) Darkness

He seemed to have developed a certain affinity for the darkness.

'Must come with the territory.' he mused as he wafted through dim streets of Argenfluo.

Back then it had been a hazard, a particularly crippling one at that. Now the positions were reversed, now he was the shadow shifting just outside of the light.

Maybe his father wouldn't be the proudest to see him skulking about the black like a common thief, but there was such an intoxicating ecstacy in turning one of his more glaring weaknesses into another part of his growing arsenal that he really didn't care.


15) Zero Hour
"Are you ready?"

If you would bring the fall,

Stupid question. Whoever says they're ready for mass suicide is a liar.
Not like they had any choice in the matter. The cycle repeats, they can but follow it.

"We all know why we are here. It's time for our stand"

Bind thy soul in thrall,

Muted steps and whispered words. Final farewells before the shadows start to twist and the cavern cries.

An orb shatters. A body falls.

"Shit! Hold goddamit, hold!"

'Till the end of all.

Chains rend, walls shake, orbs shatter, the dragon roars, and nine bodies fall.


15) Change

The one true constant they called it. It was true too, all too true if you asked some.

'Funny that we humans seem to avoid the one thing which is always present.' he thought mirthfully. Not the he had any right to be talking; he hadn't changed until he'd really been forced to. For the better he'd say, and it was mostly true.

Still, he watched himself change, he watched them change, and he couldn't help but wish that he could act as if nothing had changed.

He never took it farther than a wish. Sometimes one must let go.


16) Retry

Some wondered why he was bitter.

'The first time was like a shard of ice to the heart. He'd been so close... So he tried again.'

Once he had been asked whether being a cold bastard came naturally to him.

'It wouldn't hurt so much if she didn't smile that kind, sad, smile.... If only he'd been a little faster... So he tried again.'

He'd simply smiled and told them that he wished it did.

'A hundred times later the only difference is that he knows that he will never make it. Still he tries again.'

Practice makes perfect right?


17) Trying out

He wasn't quite sure when it had become his dream; all he really knew is that the desire had grown steadily in the back of his mind in the previous months until it had almost become an obsession.

Well, maybe that 'almost' didn't belong there, but he'd like to think that his ambition didn't run his life.

Was it because he wanted to escape his archaic society? Was it to prove he was just as good as his brother? Was it simply for adventure?

It didn't really matter, not until he made it, and so he gave it his best.


18) Chocolate

*Wham*

'Hammering?'

*Wham wham*

'Around this corner...?'

*WHAM!*

"...What" *Wham* "are you" *Wham* "doing" *Wham* "Bean?!"

"Oh, hey Ryuu!" Naebi responded cheerily, "What's with the odd face?"

"Why are you making a giant ten foot sculpture of Cain? _{(And how?)}" Ryuu asked warily.

Naebi paused for a moment before quizzically responding, "Well why shouldn't I make a statue of my fiancé?"

"GAAAAHHHHH!"

Ryuu's terrified cry split the night calm as he shot out of his futon.

Shivering uncontrollably, Ryuu promised to whatever deity of the luscious, rich confection he had offended that he'd never eat another bite of white chocolate.


19) Comfort

He was probably the last person you'd expect comfort from. If you even mentioned the possibility to any of the younger soldiers they'd call you stark raving mad and try to set you up with a nice padded cell.

He'd probably call you crazy too.

Even so, as much as he would deny it, he'd been there for almost every soldier when they hit rock bottom.

Admittedly, calling his methods crude would be giving them altogether too much credit, but they worked.

He may be curt, and he may be harsh, but he was true, and that was what mattered.


20) Sight

He's never seen without his mask. Ever. This garners him a fair amount of prying questions, questions he always answers, yet doesn't quite answer.

He's gotten quite good at it.

The general consensus is that he uses it to hide some abnormality. They're partially right, though it's not due to a deformity so much as a way of masking his features.

He wears a mask so that he won't betray himself, because he can see, and he's never been quite as good as Halo at masking his features.

He interfered once.

The flow shifted.

A price was paid.

'Never again.'


21) Willpower

When his son died he... broke. There was no other word for it.

He stopped laughing, he stopped crying, he stopped loving.

He stopped living.

He didn't stop fighting though; he owed his dead son too much to throw the boy's sacrifice away.

He ploughed forward, refusing to put himself back together until he'd wrought some vengeance upon his son's murderers. Luckily for him his wife had other ideas.

She put him back together, piece by struggling piece, whether he liked it or not.

A good thing she did. If he'd followed that path far enough, he'd have found answers.


22) Secret

It was always there, goading them, that teasing sensation at the back of their minds, sometimes there, sometimes not.

They wondered what it was. Maybe it was something to do with their magic, their blood, for it was never truly gone.

It wasn't until they stood on that pier that they understood what it was. What they had always known. What they had forgotten.

It was the pulse of the ocean.

And they remembered those whispered words of their mother, and after all those years it was only now they sincerely understood that they were truly born for the sea.


23) Siblings

They weren't siblings. Not really. Not in the true sense.

Not that they cared.

As far as they were concerned they were family and hang all those that said different.

Life was harsh, and they had to fight each and every day to survive, but whether the day brought good or bad, they always knew that they could return, maybe not to a home, but to their family.

Some would say they were poorer than dirt.

They would disagree.

They laughed together, cried together, ate together, slept together, lived together. And that was enough. More than enough they would say.


24) Battlefield

It felt like a home away from home.

He hadn't noticed it at first.

It wasn't until he was ensuring that all the corpses were well and truly dead that he discovered what was off with the situation.

He prodded the body in front of him only to see that it was one he'd already checked. Five times. He looked up and found that he'd already checked all the others repeatedly as well.

He didn't want to leave, and it scared him.

His Commander, instead of berating him or dragging him off the field, simply sat down next to him.


25) Argument

"Just think! We could warn them!"

The old argument.

So. Very. Old.

"Haaa... And then what? They change things. The thread snaps. Everything. ceases existing."

It wasn't a real argument. Not in the true sense.

"You don't know that! We could save them! We could give them another chance!"

Not when they changed views every day.

"Sure, we save them; they live another ten years, maybe twenty. Hell, they might even die of old age. They still die. We're still here. Nothing changed."

They continue in the hopes that maybe, eventually, they'll find an answer.

Not today though, never today.


26) Doubt

At the start it was his constant companion, dogging his every step. Was he right? Was he wrong? Why the hell should he have to guess in the first place?

And it only grew stronger, not because he was getting worse, but because he was more and more aware of that look people got in their eyes every time he made the wrong choice and he hated it.

Finally he hit the wall.

So he left. He left, and he stopped caring that he was wrong, stopped doubting.

The ones who really mattered knew what he meant to say anyways.


27) Boredom

Ginsenkei's day off.

Kind of.

Technically they were still on duty if anything came up, so everyone had to stick around the base even though there was nothing to do.

This garnered it the dubious honour of being the most boring day on the Ginsenkei's calendar.

Day with the highest rate of casualties as well, funnily enough. All the soldiers cooped up in the base tended to get a bit... stir crazy...

Not him.

He hid himself away in his sheltered, yet sunny alcove and sank himself into the sensations of life.

Perfect day as far as he was concerned.


28) Passion/Hobby

Look left. All clear.

Look right. All clear.

Look up. Always look up.

All clear.

Walk as if you belong there, because as far as they know, you do.

Pick up the box... And halt at the panicked shout.

Shit.

An easy, slightly arrogant turn, because the moment you show the slightest bit of uncertainty, you're screwed.

The boy has slightly wide eyes and a small quaver marring the indignation.

Green as grass.

Maybe not so screwed after all.

All that's needed is the magic word.

'Boss' orders.'

You can see the blood leaving his face.

He waves you off.


29) Role model

He wasn't sure when he'd become the communal big brother. It came naturally to him; he'd never paid it all that much thought. An anonymous favour here, a good word there; nothing big.

He'd lost a family once. Now he had two. He'd pay any price required for their happiness.

Years passed and his family grew, every six months new brothers and sisters flocked about him.

Most of his minor kindnesses he kept on the down low, reputations needed guarding, but eventually people will notice.

One of the new recruits told him he was their idol.

He'd never felt prouder.


30) Nightmare

The dream came as it always did.

At first darkness, a warm all encompassing darkness.

Then came the light, clawing her eyes until her mind was saturated with green.

Then the pain. The pokes, the prods, the cuts, and shocks.

Behind all this there was the mumbling, ever present, devoid of emotion, never clear.

And then it all stopped. The pain stopped. The murmur ceased. The green luminescence faded and everything grew cold, oh so cold.

The world shook, white lightning danced within her mind, and then all grew still.

Warm, scared hands encompassed her, bringing peaceful dreams once more.


31) Hungry for more

While many thought that it came naturally to him, and some of it did, he actually spent a certain amount of effort in always remaining silent and calm.

They thought they knew why.

Partially.

It gave him that small window of surprise when his back was to the wall.

Because when the dice had been cast, when his family was bleeding, and when he was down to two pointy bits of steel, he found that he was one not two and thought ceased.

All that remained was an intense desire to bleed, to burn everything that threatened those he cherished.


32) Bloodthirst

She hadn't wanted too, but there was no choice. They had needed everyone to fight, or they would have been annihilated. Or so they thought.

"C'mon, the Capt'n needs everyone's strength if e's going to pull us through this."

And so she had thrown away her reservations.

The marks spread.

The power flowed.

The ship disintegrated.

And another.

And another

And again, and again, until every ship that had been bearing down upon them had been reduced to driftwood by raging columns of water.

She hadn't wanted to, and then she wanted nothing more, and now she just doesn't know.


33) Loyalty

The family comes first.

Of all the lessons she learned as she grew up that had been the one that her father had hammered into her head the most.

He'd said it was the harshest of his lessons. She hadn't understood.

Then the siege on Argenfluo came along and with it, friends. Good friends. Little changed, even when the Ginsenkei became the Militia.

Then her father had died.

Her father had told her that loyalty was a coin that could only be repaid in kind. Her family had been faithful to her throughout her life. Now it was her turn.


34) Breaking the rules

It was an honour, they had told her.

Be that as it may, it didn't make disguising herself as a boy any easier.

She still questioned why they had given her this assignment. True, her new post would heighten her chances of encountering the target, but she was better suited to acquiring the fugitive sans vitals as opposed to alive.

She reprimanded herself for indulging in useless wonderings while she should have been ensuring that her subterfuge was unnoticeable.

She was sure whatever punishment the Rangers might give her would pale in comparison to the one her family would dispense.


35) Reading between the lines

To everyone he met he was an open book.

Always upbeat, the little pioneer, and so easy going it was a wonder he got anything done at all. Sure, maybe he was a little loud, a little flashy, but that made him open.

Which was why they were all so surprised when they noticed him slipping that small knife out of their necks.

No head on assault. No gigantic blade of electricity. Simple. Efficient. Completely unexpected.

It wasn't an act though, his words, his emotions were genuine.

An open book he may be, but his words were chosen with care.


36) Friendship

In some ways he was older and more jaded than all of them put together. In others he was just as innocent as the rest of them, if not more so.

When he first made contact he'd convinced himself that he'd been friendly simply because it would give him more influence over them.

He was lying to himself and that tiny voice in the back of his mind made sure he knew it too.

Nobody wants to be left out in the cold friendless, and alone. He was no exception.

That voice is still there, even though they're long gone.


37) Nemesis

It was a campaign he'd waged for more than a decade. At this point it was as much habit as the old grievance kept him going, maybe more so.

Many of the soldiers wondered why he insisted continuing his one sided battle, especially since the other side didn't seem all that inclined to participate.

He wasn't stupid, as some of the recruits suspected, but as time went on, he found that he kept the impromptu competition going, less to settle a past wrong and more to push himself further.

What better rival could one ask for than the Militia's Commander?


38) Empty

She's always such a cheerful girl, more out of nature than necessity, but the latter is important as well. Life is easier if one is happy.

She's optimistic too, and kind. Never one to doubt others, and always ready to rescue another catmeleon that's gotten itself stuck in a tree.

But when her family falls about her, and her enemies advance, as the blood of the dead rises and swirls around her, growing ever larger as it scythes down person after person, she finds that she feels no empathy whatsoever for the fallen.

She feels nothing, and it scares her.


39) Disaster

Disaster had come and if the monstrous roar that tore through the skies wasn't convincing enough, then the villages set alight as the dragon flew by certainly were.

He watched it all with a detatchment that came with centuries of existence. It didn't threaten anything he cared about. It wasn't his problem.

Yet.

"Quick, there's no time!"

He barely registered the words as a staff was suddenly thrust into his hands.

"But... You're..."

"No time!"

The new figure grabbed his shoulders, his gown staining black where he was gripped.

"Find the children and seal the beast!"

And the figure dissolved.


40) Vow

It was to be a vow, an oath engraved upon his back, upon his life. It was to be that which commanded him, ordered him, instructed him, and forever remind him of whom he was to serve. It was to govern his existence and insure that he never strayed. It was to be his most precious thing, that which would forever turn him into an enigma to all who would know him.

It was that which would mark him traitor, a promise broken, and comrades abandoned.

And now, now it is but a souvenir, a few scars lost among hundreds.


41) Moment of truth

The time has come, and he steps into the role that he's been trained for all his life. It's harsh, it's constrained, and he knows that the weight of it will break him, but he takes the hope of his people onto his shoulders without a word of complaint.

This is who he is.

This is what he was born to do.

They are coming. He knows; he feels it.

They are rising, his people are falling, and he stands forth as their final Anchor. The Junction draws near. A path, a future, must be decided.

The moment is now.


42) Take to the skies

The crows nest is his haven, and he derives a certain detached amusement from the fact that his sanctuary is so beloved by his nemesis as well.

He's always liked high places. It gives him a sense of freedom that he's always coveted, but there's something else, something indescribable that embraces him when he's nearest to the sky.

Sometimes he wonders about his parents, whether they knew something when they gave him his name. He never lingers on it overmuch. Fate has always fancied her little jokes, and he's more than willing to indulge her if it keeps her happy.


43) Decision

A shaky step, then another, and another.

Gottastayupgottastayupgottastayup-

*Whump*

'Awww, shit.'

Of all the piss poor decisions, this one takes the cake. Father will be rolling in his grave right about now.  If he had a grave.

Had to be the goddamn hero didn't I? Had to make a difference; couldn't be happy being the pawn sneaking down the edge of the board.

Can't even leave a proper message because my hands are too. damn. shaky.

Not that they'd let it sneak by. Been one of them too long to believe otherwise.


44) Destiny
He'd never liked destiny. He'd always preferred to think that his choices were his, and his alone. This belief solidified and strengthened as he grew older, for if Fate truly existed, then he was of the mind that she was a complete and utter bitch who hated him with a passion he had yet to find in the mortal world. Either that or Karma had decided he needed to pay for 100 years worth of transgressions in one life. And now, as he stood in front of the pod, he couldn't help but let loose a sad and bitter laugh.


45) Flawed

Jericho soldiers are renowned throughout the military world as being impossible to impersonate.

This is not entirely true. More accurately, Jericho soldiers are impossible to impersonate if, and only if, the impersonators happen to be infiltrating the Jericho base, which ultimately, they all are.

It wasn't due to constant personnel checks. It wasn't due to rigorous background investigations. It wasn't even due to the intense scrutiny given to every living (And inanimate) being that passed into the base, though that helped.

No, what foiled every would-be interloper was a cheery gatekeeper asking how the game of life was treating them.


46) Poke

The bananagod had gone into this room; she'd seen his hat disappear around the corner. She couldn't find him though. There was nothing in this room except tubes, rows upon rows of glowing green tubes.

Suddenly she saw movement by one of the cylinders. Rushing to the pod, she stopped short and poked it warily.

The pod tipped.

Panicking, she ran behind it, only to trip over a fortuitously placed wire, and her face smashed into an equally conveniently placed button.

Reality sneezed, and then wandered off to bitch at Fate after noticing that the capsule was no longer there.


47) Heaven and Hell

He's always got his priorities straight, knows what he has to gain or lose from every situation. That doesn't mean he isn't loyal. He is loyal; to a fault he would say.

And that's the killer right there, isn't it? Because before it was never a question as to where his loyalties ultimately lay.

But now, as he stands at the crossroads of the path he's chosen, he starts to question.

Because here he is, suspended between Heaven and Hell with a glaive in his hand and he doesn't know what to do, because he doesn't know which is which.


48) Leaving the safety zone

She'd been quite shocked when they'd asked her to join their battalion. She was the last person she'd ever expect to see in that battalion, which was why they'd asked her in the first place.

In retrospect, she'd been just about the perfect choice. She had all the skills required; they just needed a little directing.

As she enrolled in the foreign army, she wondered whether she had made the right choice. Unsurprising, for if she failed, she was almost certain to survive to regret it.

At least she didn't need a coverstory. The best disguise is one that isn't.


49) Bang

It was bound to happen one of these days. Even more so since he had died. Really, he'd considered doing it purposefully a few times right after he'd lost him. The Commander had quashed those notions though, and he was thankful for it.

He coughed out a painful laugh as he watched the enemy close in on him. True, he'd only been reunited with his friend the previous day, but that had been enough.  Thing is, it was almost as if he knew...

The arriving soldiers banished those thoughts from his mind. He grinned and whispered his final words.

"Bang..."


50) Sparks

"Blitz, what does it feel like when you use your electricity?"

Blitz turned from the sparks dancing about his palm and looked quizzically at Aurora.

"Chaotic... They... jump. All over the place. But I can kinda feel where they're going, so it's... controlled as well... Power, flickering in the palm of my hand..." He replied after a moment. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Aurora replied glibly.

She looked irately at her hands as she walked away from her partner.

'Just... power? No feeling of intense heat? No flow and... clench</u> behind it? It doesn't make any sense at all...'


51) Excitement

Most of the time they'd prefer to end things without any fuss. If they can nick a necklace or ring without anyone the wiser, they were more than capable of leaving behind a knife or two in various organs of the fatal persuasion.

Sometimes though, sometimes the battle calls. More to her than to him, true, but he wasn't complaining.

It's going to get them killed someday, if they're lucky that is. They know that. But when the blood sings, when the adrenaline flows, and when they hear each other, feel each other, they just can't bring themselves to care.


52) Sorrow

It's always swirling about her, like some invisible fugue that she can never get rid of. She's not sure why it's there, nor what they want. All she knows is that they hurt, and they cry, and they call for an end.

She doesn't know what end they desire, but she never stops searching.

The cloak of constant anguish weighs heavily on her, ever reminding her of her duty, not just to her ancestors, but to her brother as well should she fall.

She tries to be happy, to protect him, because when she is gone, he will be next.


53) Life

Humans... fascinated him. They were probably the most diverse and illogical species to ever walk the planet.

He loved them. Rather, he loved playing with them. They were a constant source of entertainment. They never reacted the same way twice.

He didn't just regard them from above like some demented scientist either; oh no, he was in the thick of it. The game wasn't worth playing if there wasn't any risk.

Who knows, if he keeps on playing, he might even coax a different reaction out of himself, and that's as good a pot as he could ever hope for.


54) Looking back

She'd known that this day would come. She'd worried about it constantly since they had separated; he to learn how to fight in hopes that he might save those fallen prey to trade that had torn their lives apart, and she to repay a life debt owed twice over.

Now here she was, facing her own family, knowing that she'd never forgive herself if he died.

As an arrow tore into the main mast, and jagged streams of pure energy followed ripping the sails to tatters, she smiled ever so slightly.

Maybe she needn't have to worry. He'd grown up.


55) Careless

Rush forward, left and right, never in one place. Follow the pulse of the battle, and drop to the beat. The rhythm never leads you wrong, you just have to listen to it.

Duck to the right, go in at an angle, and make sure as hell you stay away from that pointy looking spear. Let them fall as you feel the cue and-

*Wham*

Ohshitohshitohshit, you forgot about the man with the damn bolas!

The ground shifts and... *Thud*

"Dammit that's the fifth time this week! Must you always try to get yourself killed!?"


56) Goodbye

"Mission accomplished"

Those words stared back at him from the tiny report he held in his hands.

No additions, no details, no comments; that was all the report held.

They had been captured, interrogated, tortured.

Two of them had been taken. One came out alive.

His hands shook.

The gall. The utter, fucking gall! A life had been sacrificed, and all they'd received in return was a small slip of paper with two words on it.

He didn't change for the funeral.

He just sat there in his bloodied clothes, caressing a small jade ring without a word of goodbye.


57) Why

It was the perfect question, the one that held all the answers, and yet seemed to create more than it solved.

'Why are they supposed to die?

The question was an unspoken taboo among those who served in the Lunar Corps.

'Why are they the enemy?'

Everyone played their part, carried out their missions to the letter, and never questioned their orders.

'Why must I fight?

It wasn't simply because this would mark them as the next target, but because once they started to question, they started to break, and their very concept of good and evil shattered forever.

'Why?'


58) Future

Some wondered what the future held. He didn't. He knew. It was why he was there and then in the first place.

Many who wondered about the future also wondered whether they could change it. He didn't. He'd seen what happened to those who tried to steer history onto a course it would never follow.

The fight had long since disappeared from him and now he only played the part set before him, even if there were thousands who would curse him for it.

No wonder the lot of them were cold and bitter bastards, what with prospects like that.


59) Dance

This was by far one of the most bizarre situations she had ever found herself in, if not entirely unenjoyable.

She was currently twirling around a dance floor, surrounded by nobles, and wearing a dress that probably costed more than she had ever possessed in her life.

All of this paled compared to her dance partner.

"Why did you do this?"

"I wanted a dance."

"Something this elaborate for a simple dance? You must want something more."

"Something more? What I want is to watch everything burn."

He wasn't lying. She knew. That was why she stayed. He intrigued her.


60) Memories

The voices came at the strangest of times.

Eating ice cream.
'Do you think we'll still be able to do this once it's all over?'

The middle of a lightning storm.
'See, I can protect you now.'

A small pier in the hind end of nowhere.
'You wonder why it happened too, don't you?'

Walking through a forest full of wildlife.
'I can't understand why anyone would want to hurt something so cute...'

They came, they said their piece, and they went, and she was left with the infuriating feeling that she was missing something.

Something important.

Something irreplacable.


61) Yield

You don't give up on the patient; it's not over until the body is cold.

It was a bit of a motto among their family, morbid though it may be. She could empathize with that sentiment, she really could, but she also understood that living by that approach could cloud ones judgement.

You had to see things as they are, had to understand that not everything can be saved, and that sometimes losses must be cut. It was harsh, but it saved lives.

Sometimes.

Sometimes you had to make the choice to end their suffering, and yield to the reaper.


62) Enough

The best.

He used to shoot for that lofty goal, used to struggle tirelessly forward in hopes that one day he'd surpass his overshadowing brother, that one day he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the praises his father heaped upon him.

When it comes down to it though, he's little better than average, and he knows it.

It took him years to accept that not all people are born equal, that he wasn't one of the chosen, but he can live with it now.

Now he only needs strength for himself, and for his friends.

For him that's enough.


63) Days

No matter how many years pass, he has never forgotten how the elementalists destroyed his family, nor has he forgiven them. If anything the passage of time has only fermented his loathing of the reigning mage clan.

Still he bides his time, even if that means reining in his anger. His life is not his alone, and his rash decisions would leave more than one corpse cooling in its wake.

The Elementalist's time is quickly running out, and he feels a frigid anticipation build within him as he calmly watches the days file by.

He can wait a little longer.


64) Meeting expectations

It started as a small reverie in a gilded room. It just snowballed from there, smashing through his wildest dreams along the way.

That wasn't to say that it had been a cake walk.

Becoming the captain of the Sorazame had been a brutal reintroduction to the responsibility he had abandoned when he had left home. The fact that some of his men were almost twice his age hadn't helped.

Even so he forged past his shadows because his crew was counting on him, him, and not the prince of the Elementalists.

He hadn't failed to meet their expectations yet.


65) Sleep

He always goes to bed with one eye open. He'd already lost one family because of his carelessness; it wasn't going to happen again.

He did his best to hide it. He was the one who was supposed to be worrying, and it was meaningless for the others to stay up if they didn't need to.

They'd noticed of course. They always did. Passing out due to sheer exhaustion might have played a factor in that. He'd woken up the next day to find a pair of great, wide eyes blotted onto his bandana.

He can sleep without worry now.


66) Luck

Luck's a fickle girl.

He was sure that he'd have caught on fairly quickly, even if his people weren't constantly weaving stories of her legendary fancies. Wherever he went, he could always find her tiny blessings, hidden here and there.

Life wasn't fair.

He knew with absolute certainty that no matter how powerful you were, should she choose to do so, Lady Luck could lay even the mightiest of men low.

So he tries to live his life to the fullest. He isn't arrogant enough to believe he can keep her favour forever.

All he needs is a little time.


67) Wounds

It was odd.

The wound hurt, there was no denying that. Not with the constant sensation of something burrowing, chewing, tearing and burning into his arm. Whoever says that pain gets dulled over extended exposure was a goddamn liar.

But his bleeding arm wasn't what hurt the most.

What hurt the most was the fact that he'd taken a hit for someone that wasn't there.

She didn't tell him where she'd gone, or even why she'd gone. All she did when she came back was wrap up his arm without a single word.

What hurt most was the wounded trust.


68) Animal

Silently it sails the endless abyss, existing throughout time immemorial, passing countless worlds that were, that are, that will be. As it flies past each planet pinpoints on the rocky bodies, some natural and others forged, resonate in response to the call, twisting the temporal fabric about them.

For many it is but a passing star, its only purpose being to herald the coming festival that has existed since as far back as anyone can remember, under one name or another.

For others, those who have been chosen by chance, those that have passed on, it signifies the coming shift.


69) One hundred

One hundred... It was odd, he hadn't even been aware that he had been counting. Then again, there was a lot of information lying around in his brain that he wasn't aware of until a situation necessitated it.

One hundred scars. Some large, some tiny, some in between. Each had their own story to tell, literally as it were in some cases. While most of them mapped out a past that he would rather forget he wouldn't trade them for the world, for there were some happy few that he cherished almost beyond anything he owned.

They were his history.


70) Genius

He was a genius.

Not evidently so, but then he was a jack of all trades was he not? A dabbler in everything yet a master of nothing.

That suited him just fine; he didn't need a thousand forms to stick a knife in an unsuspecting neck.

Still there was one aspect of his life that remained an elusive mystery, that he dearly wished he could somehow discern its secret.

The first time, it was a first. That was all it would ever be, because it never got a chance to be more.

The second was why he continued still.


71) Impulse

It was always there, in the back of his mind, he could feel it. He never put his finger on exactly what it was, but then it never really mattered all that much to him. All he cared about was the drive, the desire to set the world alight, be it peoples bodies or their minds, it mattered not.

He still remembered that day when they first met, out in that frozen wasteland. She'd been worried about him; thought he'd been cold. The memory still makes him laugh.

Someone. Worried. About him.

But then, they were the same weren't they?


72) Sunset

They'd known about his freakish affinity, and while they questioned it, they'd never really delved into the why.

They still managed to kill him despite it, though they didn't destroy him. They wouldn't have been able to even if they had known.

The second time around, that was something else altogether. Power attracts attention of all kinds. The misguided kind is probably the most dangerous. Those that caught him knew not enough, yet they knew too much.

They extinguished him, neither half was spared, and above them the moon turned blue. It would never again be tinged with another color.


73) Night

Who he is, it seems, isn't something that's lost quite so easily. Oh, the memories are gone all right. They're gone and try as he might they won't come back. His body on the other hand, that's a whole different matter. He's heard that old habits die hard. His don't seem to die, period.

Night does... funny things to him. He changes. His breathing calms. His footsteps soften. He feels a sudden visceral attraction to shadows. His eyes never stop moving.

It makes him curious, and he wonders about it, but never at night, not when he's on the prowl.


74) Chaos

'It was an accident, it was an accident, I didn't mean to knock it over!'

Unfortunately her silent excuses did nothing to erase the inferno she had unwittingly unleashed.

'Hastobeawayouthastobeawayoutwastobeawayout!'

The uniform, flickering corridors bled into each other as the panic spread.

Turning a corner, she slammed into a similarly fleeing figure.

A flash of brown hair, blue eyes, and the boy fled, leaving a strip of yellow cloth fluttering behind him.

Snatching it, she fled as she listened to her sisters burn.


75) Start of a new day

Morning. The old routine. Slowly slide the foot out of be-d?

Her foot slides onto the floor. This isn't her bed. She opens her eyes slowly...

'A... futon? Where...?'

She starts to rise slowly, only to wake up the person she had unknowingly been sleeping beside. Instinctively she backs away from the boy and comes against the wall.

"Morning Fu-"

"Where am I?"

Suddenly two strong hands grab her arms and two purple eyes are studying her intensely.

"Bean," the youth calls urgently. "Get Iroki. Something's wrong with Fuu." Turning back, he stares at her eyes. "And get Enya too."


76) Reunion

To see him one last time.

That was all he wanted. To finally say goodbye, to have closure.

They always got a pitying look of melancholy on their faces whenever he mentioned his desire. When pressed, all they would say was that it was closure for both of them.

He hadn't understood; that was a good thing wasn't it?

The only reason he'd able to part at their final meeting was the small, guilty hope that they'd be reunited soon. Like old days once more.

But his friend didn't come back, and he wept bitterly when he realised why.

Closure.


77) Turning the tide

It had been so unexpected, so completely and utterly idiotic that it had actually worked. Almost.

At first they had spread, secure in the fact that they would be opposed only by unarmed, untrained commoners. At first it looked as if they would have a bloodless, flawless victory.

They were sorely mistaken, for as her servants fled, she stood strong. Rebels came, came and burned as a small girl tore through men three, four times her age.

She was not the only one. Others joined her as she advanced and together they decimated those that would target the defenceless city.


78) Competition

He loves to compete.

He'll never turn down a challenge. In fact he often instigates them. In some respect his way with words might be the most effective weapon in his arsenal.

He never was short of opponents. Some reeled in by verbal barbs, others by the same passionate thrill, and yet others who partook in the game unknowingly

Above all though, he loved to compete against himself, loved to push the envelope just that smidgen further, because he had to go forward, go forward and never stop.

If he stops, the world will catch up and swallow him whole.


79) Walk

They first met on a derelict roof secreted in a large district a few miles south of the Gryphos capitol, two shadows passing each other in the middle of the night.

Two shadows that breathed the same way, that ran the same way, that moved the same way.

They put it down to mere coincidence. It didn't mean anything.

You can only stretch coincidence so far.

Night after night their legs led them unerringly past each other, in some strange dance that neither of them understood. Round and round they went, the forerunner and the successor, honouring the ethereal title.


80) Believe

He tries to believe as little as possible in anything. Belief implied that one lacked the knowledge to fully support their view.

Ignorance kills.

Sometimes he doesn't have a choice. Well that wasn't exactly true. He always had a choice, but he knew well enough that that was a formality at best.

So he reinforces what small beliefs he has with a web of logic, reasoning, and facts despite knowing that it will all come crashing down one day.

It was one of the lessons he had learned early on.

There was a reason you can't spell "Belief" without "Lie".


81) Attitude

Some people were unnerved by his permanently mild countenance. Others where merely pissed off by it, generally during poker night.

Far from troubling him, their opinions reassured him that he wasn't getting rusty. His knack for guile was what had taken him to the top of his Battalion and he'd be damned if he let it waste away.

There's a person, one person who can take that mask off his face, and she shatters it with glee whenever she gets the chance. They both know well enough that if you wear a mask too long, it's no longer a mask.


82) Habit

He was going to wind up face down and bleeding his life out on some silent battlefield if he insisted on continuing on like this, he knew that well enough.

Sometimes some of his friends would urge him to stop, telling him that he'd only find a sticky end down that path, that it wasn't worth it.

'It wasn't worth it.'

'They weren't worth it.'

He couldn't believe that. He wouldn't believe that.

He didn't care what his friends said, he didn't care what his Unit leader said, and he didn't care what the law said.

Everybody was worth it.


83) Note

He always knew death was a distinct possibility, but he always imagined that he and his comrades would go out in a blaze of glory or something like that.

What he didn't expect was to wake up and find a tiny note on his dresser.

'Tigre, I got chosen. They found a piece of my clothing. I'm passing on my warriors soul to you since you'd probably freeze to death without it. Don't you dare disgrace it by crying when you find this note, got it?'

The head of the "Traitorous Assassin" was displayed on a pike that same day.


84) Don't you dare

"Don't you dare, don't you dare leave me behind!"

It was a cry uttered in panic; in fear, and anguish. It was a threat made without thinking, made in hopeless desperation.

They were words that she cherished and rued for the rest of her life.

He'd heard her. Somehow, some way, against all logical reason he'd heard her, and he'd come back.

She'd been ecstatic. Maybe things were a little different now, but her friend was back, and all would be well, right?

Time moves on. It drags her along with it, leaving him untouched, and he is left behind.


85) Mischief

They had all the materials they needed, all that was left was to place them in the correct positions.

A shared giggle, a quick fist bump, and they parted ways.

Both as silent as phantoms they snuck about the site, avoiding personnel with scrupulous care, and leaving behind their tiny presents.

They met again in tandem.

"Are you ready?"

"You know it."

A shared grin before the press of a button, and the facility behind them dissolved in a symphony of explosions.

Pranksters they may have been but they were soldiers as well and their mischief was not always benign.


86) Laughter

Court Etiquette.

Just mention the concept and she'd collapse laughing. She found the idea of spending countless hours practicing so you could insult someone while still technically being completely cordial infinitely amusing. It was a complete and utter waste of perfectly good time as far as she was concerned.

Her partner took advantage of this constantly, often at inappropriate moments.

She didn't mind.

As much as he would whine afterwards about how she was making it harder to navigate than it needed to be, she could see him smiling.

He'd never admit it, but he loved to hear her laugh.


87) Cliff

Just as a flower blooms beautifully, so too must it wither and die.

Standing on a cliff, out in the middle of nowhere, he sets his brand to the petals and watches as the flames catch and spread.

The fire spreads quickly, the flower has much fuel to offer, and soon he sees before him a blossom comprised entirely of flames.

Clasping his hands and lowering his head he utters a silent prayer to a kind boy who was taken from this world much too soon.

As he raises his head he sighs, and let's go.

He must move on.


88) Fun

"I absolutely despise you right now, you know that?"

Why was he even here again?

"Oh, stop complaining, I got you in didn't?"

Right, Unit 2 was injured, so for some incomprehensible reason he had been picked to infiltrate this ball in their place.

"You could have done it another way! And people will notice..."

And what better way to infiltrate a place than by belonging there?

"No one's going to notice, you look beautiful!"

So here he was, twirling about the dance floor...

"...I hate you so much."

Oh well, it was only a little bit of fun, right?


89) Colours

The flickering oranges and reds, sometimes trimmed with just a touch of blue. The glowing yellow; sometimes almost white. He knows them well.

He doesn't remember when he first came across a forge, and quite frankly he doesn't really care. All that matters is that he found it, and that he'll never truly leave that dim, sooty little workshop in the back of his mind.

He doesn't need a furnace, doesn't need a water trough, doesn't need to make the burning metal ring. He never has.

He does so anyways.

When the hammer flies, the fire in his blood sings.


90) Idiot

It's a title that follows her everywhere, never blatant, but there nevertheless. Even if it's not in their voices, it's in their eyes.

Once upon a time she may have wished she was smart, but no longer.
She knows she's an idiot, and she doesn't care.

She had friends, enemies, a home, a reason to live. She could fight, she could play, she could run, and one day she'd catch that pesky Bananagod or she'd die trying.

She had all that and more.

Really, what more could she want when her life was richer than that of the highest monarch.


91) Pain

It was ironic.

He was strong, incredibly so, a testament and a credit to his heritage. A heritage that had robbed him of his mother, his father, his brother, his sister, and his home.

He made a new life; he found a new father, gained new siblings, crafted a new purpose, found a new happiness.

Rediscovered the old sorrow as the spite of the empire relentlessly pursued him.

Again, his life shatters.

Now as he embraces his family, his real family, he is ready to give it one more shot.

The third time is lucky after all, is it not?


92) Missing

He'd thought that he'd let go, he really did. He'd done his part, his responsibility wasn't his anymore. Didn't he deserve a little peace?

Apparently not.

Some things you can't let go.

He was living in the past, sometimes literally, and he knew it. Still he couldn't move on, couldn't forget all the faces he'd come to know and love. Funny that he still wandered the path he used to hate with a passion.

Even though he wanted to move on, he couldn't help but notice the lack of pressure on his left arm and feel that something was missing.


93) Simple

He had been looking for, he realized, something that simply wasn't there. It wasn't like anyone could blame him though, what with his history.

At first he'd expected something more sinister. Recon, a plant, a way to gain leverage, anything. An oddly valuable operative to be sure, but who knew what sacrifices the Sectors were willing to make to complete the Purge.

The problem was that the whole situation had been too straightforward. No lies, no fabrications, no duplicity. Just the simple truth.

Pure. That was the thing he hadn't known. The boy was as pure as new fallen snow.


94) Words

Their relationship was one of complicated simplicity. They seemed to be normal friends. They hung out, chatted, and did stupid things.

Well ok, she more so than he, almost exclusively on the third count, but that was how they did things, and it worked.

Most of the time when something important needed to be conveyed they didn't really need to voice it, they knew each other well enough for that.

Sometimes though things need to be said, and when such a time came they chose their words with care. They both had histories and they knew that words had power.


95) Snow

Angel Feathers they are called. A beautiful name many would agree. A sorrowful one some would say; those who knew.

Names have meaning.

"Why do you cry when it snows?"

"Because I can see."

It didn't make sense at the time. It did later, when the sight came.

Thousands upon thousands of angels falling to earth, their wings disintegrating as they fell, each feather becoming a single snowflake. It was a beautiful sight. A heart rending sight, for as each angel hit the ground they awoke for a single moment, a short gasp escaping their lips before they too disintegrated.


96) Who are you

He'd spent a lot of time thinking about who he really was after he had left. After he had been ousted actually, but that was a detail he'd rather contemplate later.

He still didn't know which one he was. Was he the original, or the creation? He was the one that lived, yet the other seemed to be able to take control whenever he wanted.

Maybe he was neither. Part of a whole. A very polarized whole.

And that was how he had come to view it. He was himself, but so was the other.

They are who he is.


97) Death

What the... Why's he... Oh shit!

"Oh god, are you ok?!"

Of course he's not ok, he's got a giant spear sticking out of his goddamn chest!

"It's, it's just the lung, it's gonna be alright!"

It'sjustthelungit'sjustthelungit'sjustthe- ohgodhe'sgotaspearstickingoutofhis...

It's not the lung.

"Open your eyes goddamnit, open them! Do something, laugh that stupid laugh of yours, anything!"

It's not supposed to be like this.

"He's... gone..."

A raging fire, a warriors farewell. Ashes in two small lockets.

And they move on.


98) Grief

Grief.

You can feel it clawing at your heart as you see your beloved bleeding out in front of you, as you watch that traitor pull her thrice damned blades out of his heart.

It hurts. It hurts so goddamn much because he's there, he's right there, and there's nothing you can do about it. You want to try anyways, you want to try so badly, but deep down you know that he's gone.

Deep down the acid is already flowing, the barrier forming because you'll burn in hell before you leave him unavenged.

The hand clenches.

The barrier, crushes.


99) Ending

With a sigh of conclusion he snaps his cell phone shut, the sharp report of plastic on plastic signifying the closure of the final chapter in his existence.

The cycle has been sealed, and archived; a new one initiated. All his phantoms, mental and physical, have moved on. His work is done. It's time he moved on as well.

Spreading out his hands, his palms turned upward, he lets the cloying darkness bleed out of his spirit. Everything fades.

Now, he can finally rest.

If only someone would get that banana peel of his face.

"What took you so long?!"


100) Peace

When his father had given him his name it was to be as a talisman, a wish made in hopes that his life might imitate its principle. Not to be of course, not in this era.

Still, it wasn't a gesture made in vain. While his name might have had as much effect on the world around him as a passing breeze, it had integrated itself with him, melding with his very soul.

His father's wish is a wish no longer. It is an ideal that he lives, that he breathes, and that he will someday bring to the world.