Beast of Another Land (Open)

[Leon Loire]

A native once, but no longer.

Recent events had been a rush: the riot, Stern Mason's return, Ein Gilsin's official status as a school Pillar, Kvist's ambitions for power, and the continued oppression of the Corporal Punishment System and its extension - the Pillars and Darren Blayne. Leon's own interest in politics had been spread out to explore the air of the situation, and his ideals were met in a sort of heated environment. Still, no matter the circumstances, Leon Loire had every intention to press forward, to destroy the enemy he set his eyes upon, and to bring peace and stability to the student population - through his own means.

Driving up a few miles away from the outskirts of San Francisco, the maroon Mustang twisted and sped through the small hills and dense terrain, its owner destined to discovering a quiet retreat in the local forests where he could spend time alone.

Alone, with his own wits, his own spirit, and his own power.

After parking at an abandoned summer camp, Loire's shades drifted across the local bark and dirt. Sheathed on his hip was an object that would act as his activity for the day. Strolling past several hundred feet of mountainous grass, the leaves crunching under his battle boots, Leon Loire found himself wondering what sort of style he could work to improve upon; it had been a long while since he had spun his Lionheart[/color] through the winds.

Finally, Loire found a suitable terrain: a circle of six rather tall pine trees, their flesh aged and tough, their scent easing. Inhaling the crisp, spring air of the region, Leon lightly hovers his gloved left hand over the hilt of his blade, navy eyes analyzing the scene surrounding him, before gripping the leather folds and slowly inching the weapon from its scabbard. Its by-product azure glow resonated from the magnetic edge of the sheathe, and the blade seemed to increase the lighting of the immediate area. Face etched in an aura of light, Loire allows the awkward blade to sit just before his nose, closes his eyes in prayer, and wonders of the world around him.

~Dear Lord of Heaven, Give Me the Strength to Commit the Deeds Necessary to Protect Those that have been Etched in My Soul. Let My Dying Breath be for Them, for Eternity, or for the Days to Come.~

The christened-Catholic youth motioned Trinity across his chest - an act he had not done in years now, ironically - and opened his eyes, murmuring a final notion of his Lord's given title.

~Amen~

With that, Leon took in another breath, easing his muscles, preparing his mind, then tensing his resolve. In a sudden swing of momentum, both of Loire's hands grip unto the weapon's hilt, and allowed the weight of the light to arc towards his body's left, the tip tilting towards the earth, before his arms reversed in an opposing direction, bringing the blade past and left ear, behind his neck, and into a spin above his head. Seconds passed before the man allowed the weapon to falter from gravity, and when it did, his left hand sent it through a strike into his body's left quadrant, slicing through the air and aimed towards the region behind him, forcing Loire's right leg to motion forward and twist his torso, allowing a smooth transition in movement. A quick wrist spin, a release of the blade, and Leon Loire stared down in intensity as the blade's blue flame stabbed into the earth, as if it were Excalibur, and its Knight awaited to reclaim it.

A smirk spread over Leon Loire's face.

'All for the image... all for the Soul.'

Finding his left hand tapping on his Griever for a moment, Leon grips the handle once again and prepares to pull it outward to continue.

[jackal]

There was quite a bit of anger coming from the room of Abel Moldune. He had just got off of the phone with his brother's ex and she said some things that kind of set him off. From outside his dorm room door people could here random mumbles and an occasional scream of anger coming from the enraged young man. Now he had two people that he believed he had to take out of the world to save his own sanity. Why he thought this way, nobody could or would ever be able to find out, but it seemed that he had some major mental problems. He wasn't an evil person, or at least that's how he saw it, but he tended to do things that most people would consider immoral. Like stabbing his own brother in the back when he was kissing his girlfriend.

Nothing in his life ever seemed to go right, and maybe that's why he had to ruin other people's lives. To make himself feel like he wasn't the only person in the world who experienced the pain and loneliness that he had felt most of his life. Finally the mumbling and screaming stopped and the sounds of rustling could now be heard. Inside the room Abel was packing some of his clothes and a few snacks in a small dufflebag. It seemed as though he had to go into hiding again since the cops went to Teneile's house to pick him up. He got all of his important belongings and then began to walk toward his door. Right before he grabbed the handle of his door he turned around and looked at his wall with a smile.

There, like Jesus on the cross, hung his beautiful sword that he had had with him from quite a young age. He slowly walked over to the sword and pulled off of the wall with an almost joyous look on his face. "I think I'll take you on my little journey this time, Hyperion. Its been quite a long time since I've used you in any true fight. Time to give you the blood that you always seem to crave." And with those words Abel took the sword and tied its sheath tightly to his waste, with the actual sheath and sword hanging slightly over his rear. He then opened the door to his apartment and walked down the hallway. A few students looked at him with confused and hateful looks as he walked past them, but he didn't care. His whole life he'd seen faces that had hateful eyes as he waited to be adopted by one of them, but of course that never happened.

Walking outside of the dorm complex he continued on his way to the sideway and waited for a taxi to get into view. Calling for the taxi to stop, which it did, he entered the cab and placed his belongings to the right of him. Where are you headed to sir? The man said with a slight accent. Abel looked at him with the same smile he had since he grabbed his blade. "Take me as far away from this city as you can. Preferably where there aren't any people and plenty of woodlands." The cab driver didn't ask any questions as he sped off toward the outskirts of San Fransisco. Abel laughed silently to himself as he thought about the future events that were sure to unfold. 'When I come back I'm gonna find both of you, and when I do it will be an even bloodier mess then last time.'

It had been only a few minutes since they had exited to city and Abel was staring out the window at the trees that passed by. The drive had been a very smooth one and Abel knew that he could let thinks calm down and get in a little practice with his blade at the same time. Suddenly the cab began to slow down as they came close to an old camp ground with a mustang parked by it. Abel pounded on the window as he began to yell at the driver. "Hey El Driver, let me off here. I think this will be a perfect place for me to camp out for awhile." The driver looked back at Abel with a confused look on his face. But you say that you want to be where nobody is. Someone is here, and it looks like they got here only a little bit ago.

But the words of the driver weren't heard. Abel slammed open the door and went running in the direction of the faint footsteps that had been left by the owner of the mustang. The taxi driver was yelling for his money, but he was lucky to escape with his life. Abel traversed the terrain of the vast area far beyond the camp ground as he tried to find the person that was out there all alone. Finally in the distance a slight glimmer could be seen through the trees. The terrain soon bursted into a vast field with only a few trees, and a man with a sword could be seen in the middle of a small group of trees. He had just stabbed his sword into the ground. The man then smirked before gripping the handle of the blade, most likely to pull it out of the ground.

Before he could do this Abel had came into view of the man who didn't seem to be any older than Abel himself. In fact he could have been a little younger even. Abel walked slowly toward the strange with one hand holding his bag and the other grasping the handle of his blade. When he was finally in the group of trees and about ten feet away from the stranger he through his bag far off to the side and kept his right hand on his blade's handle. "What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? I didn't think I'd find anyone out this far into the countryside." Abel had a complete shit grin on his face. It was completely obvious that he had followed the guy to this place, but what wasn't obvious was how he would handle Abel's presence.

[Leon Loire]

The voice was unfamiliar, but the appearance was virtually identical to a piercing memory of fear...

'Almasy... no, Domnovic! Wait a minute, who the hell is he? That's not Alec!'

Within a few seconds, Leon Loire's navy gaze instantly turned violet, his left hand clenching tightly against the leather grip of his Lionheart[/color] as his arms twitch upward, the soft forest earth below suddenly spilling into the biting air, the azure flame of his blade lighting the air around it in a sort of bright aura. The blade now in tow, the handle swings to the left, then back in a parallel position to the ground just before Loire's body, the tip of the weapon pivoted toward the intruder.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?!" Leon Loire barked in anger, his right hand clenched tightly, his forehead furrowed in rage, the long scar that the former Hyperion had once given him now scarlet from the blood racing. Loire's sight caught the details of a weapon... one similar to his own.

'That son of a bitch...'

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing with Hyperion?"

[jackal]

It seemed that just the sight of Abel's appearance made this guy uncomfortable and even quite pissed. Abel watched as the guy pulled his sword out of the ground and swung it around until its blade was pointed at Abel himself. The once calm look in this strangers eyes had become violent and full of intensity as he stared at Abel. Finally he yelled to Abel about some sort of joke which he of course didn't understand.

'What the hells wrong with this kid? Seems like he has a few screws loose or something.' Abel kept his distance because he didn't want to fight this guy unless who know who he really was. 'Does he think I'm somebody else? Or maybe he think's I'm working for someone thats trying to fuck with him.'

The grin on Abel's face had now turned into more of a sarcastic smile as he stared right back at the strange swords man. With his left hand, he pushed some of his hair off of his forehead in a slick fashion, like usual, and then he looked back at the stranger.

"Ummm... I don't usually joke about many things, but when I do people usually don't find them that funny." Now looking down at the sword that the guy held pointed at him, Abel tried to calm him down. "Hey I really don't know who you think I am, or maybe you treat all strangers like this, but I'm most definately not who you think I am." Finally unsheathing his Hyperion and holding it over his right shoulder, his smirk turned into a full blown smile.

"I'm Abel Moldune, and I'm looking for a sparring partner."

[Leon Loire]

Loire's forehead furrowed severely, his glare barely lightened by the man's supposed disconnection to Alec Domnovic. Regardless of the fact if the stranger was telling the truth or not, Leon recognized that his instincts were one of his greatest defenses. He could not trust this figure, whoever he may be - at least, not yet.

'The coincidence is too severe....'

"Your attire is near-identical, your attitude doesn't come off as that different, and most importantly of all, you're wielding the Hyperion. I don't know who you are, and I rightly don't care. Whether you're connected or not is only a detail, so long as I can tell if you're actually a hostile, and thus far it's rather difficult."

Leon allowed the Lionheart[/color] to drop in a parallel position near his leg, the grip of his left hand still strong, his glare never lowering, "A sparring partner is not in my interests. Right now I have far too many questions for someone who has that bloody blade anyway. If you've got any hope of 'lightening the mood', then I suggest you explain that," Leon nodded toward the silver sheen of the stranger's weapon, "and just how you received it. After all, I find it highly unlikely that there would be two Hyperions in the world, and since my enemy wields a new blade now, that makes me wonder exactly what blade that happens to be."

[Carlos]

".....How Long has it been? I think I'm a little bit rusty....."

Walking over to my closet I separated the hanging cloths and moved a few shirts that covered a long rectangular black case made of wood, with a gold Phoenix embroidered on the top, reaching over to the case I opened it slowly revealing a sheathed sword, grasping the sheath I lifted the sword out of the case and closed it. Standing up with my sword in hand I held in my right hand for a minute as I looked over it, (It's been a while since I've brought you out. Guess I should give you a chance to breath a bit.) Gripping the hilt firmly I pulled on it and brought out the blade within it, looking over the bright blade I grinned a bit remembering what I had gone through with this blade, laughing to myself I sheathed the sword and held it alongside myself. Looking around my room to make sure I didn't forget anything I walked out of my room and over to my apartment door, looking one last time to make sure that I wasn't missing anything I closed and locked the door behind me.

Leaving my building I walked over to my car with my sword in hand and got in. The day was warm and perfect for some good heavy training. Starting my car I took off in the direction of the outskirts of the city where the woods resided, blazing a trail from my apartment to the freeway my speed only increased as I entered the highway, weaving in-between a few cars I flew past the traffic and made my way towards the forest that rested at the outer rim of the city. Arriving at the parking lot of a seemingly abandoned summer camp, I saw a maroon Ford Mustang as I pulled in, (Maybe he is a round her.) I shrugged and turned my car off, getting out of my car I reached over to my sword and brought it out before closing the door and activating the alarm of my car.

Putting one of my earphones I began to listen to some Jedi Mind Tricks as I walked to an unknown destination, as I walked my ears picked up a couple of indistinct voice which were somewhere close to me. Following the voices I stumbled upon two men, I looked at each one to see if I knew them and fortunately I knew one of them. It was fortunate to see my old friend Leon Loire still taking some time out to train in his physical arts instead of just simply using his words for battle. As I watched him I noticed the man in-front of him looked extremely familiar to me but I couldn't remember who he reminded me of, but the moment I looked at his right hand and saw the blade that he held, I knew exactly whom he was or at least whom I thought he was.

My expression turned from an optimistic one to a blank expression, one filled with a cold murderous intent for the individual that stood in-front of my old comrade, hearing Leon speak exactly what I was thinking I unsheathed my sword and walked over behind the man that stood in-front of Leon, as Leon dropped his sword I raised mine and held the blade against the right side of the man's neck....

"Who the Fuck are you? And why are you holding that sword?"

[jackal]

As Abel looked at the stranger, it seemed that he got even more frustrated when Abel said he wasn't who the guy thought he was. His glare became stronger as his eye brows went into an angered angle. He then went on how Abel looked and even acted like the man that he was perceived to be, which made Abel laugh slightly under his breath. 'Hard to believe that there's someone else in the world that dresses like me and even acts like me, but its even weirder that this guy is enemies with him. Fate sure has a strange since of humor.' The man then lowered his sword but his glare never left his face. It was obvious that he thought Abel had some sort of connection to this unknown person, and he wasn't going to let his guard down for a second.

Then he told Abel that he wasn't looking for a sparring partner, but he did want to know where Abel had aquired the Hyperion. That did bring back some memories and made Abel smile even more. He was about to explain where he aquired the sword when another person came up from behind him and held a blade to the right side of his neck. This man was just a little more rude then the man he had been talking to, yelling Who the fuck are you? And why are you holding that sword? Abel's smile quickly turn to a half-crazed smirk as he moved slightly and let the man's sword cut his neck a bit. He walk a few steps away, letting the blood run down his neck, and then stopped where he could see both of the blade wielders.

Letting out another laugh only this time slightly crazed, he looked back and forth between them men before finally stopping his watch on the newcomer. "Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you! I can't just walk up behind someone and hold a blade to their neck like that. Are you a fucking coward or something? If you would have been here a little earlier you would have heard my name, but maybe you should ask this other guy who I am. He thinks I'm someone else, and from your questions I'm guessing you might think so too. Not that I really care what either of you think." Then he stopped and looked over at the other that he seemed to be more interested in. His grip on the Hyperion had gotten tighter do to an inner rage he felt after the other man came from behind.

"Now as for how I got this sword, that's quite a tale. I was about to tell you, but then this dick head came and so rudely interupted our conversation. It was about a year ago I believe. I had finally left the orphanage that had been my home since birth, and I was on my way to some city called Varron to see my little brother Drake. Before I even got into town I got into a car accident that totaled my Oldsmobile, and so I had to walk the rest of the way. When I finally arrived the town seemed to be empty and a large area seemed to have been on fire only a few days before I got there. There were a couple of gangs fighting each other and so I decided joining would help pass the time. It ended up being only me and some other guy with this sword, and I knocked him out and took the blade as my own."

He then looked up at the sky with his grin turning now into a serious and firm frown. He looked over at the newcomer with a cold stare and pointed his blade at him. "Now that you guys know how I got this sword its time to shut the fuck up about it, and about me being some other person!" The sentence obviously being directed at both of the men, but his next one was only for the new arrival. "I want you to stay out of this, if you know what's good for you. I didn't come out here to kill anyone, but if you interfere I will not hesitate to cut every limb from your body. I'm usually an easy guy to get along with, but I don't like being threaded from behind. If you want to watch then go back in the trees so you don't get in our way."

Abel then pointed his sword at the man he had been talking to with no change in his facial expression. "Sorry about that, I just hate people like him. And I guess I'm sorry that you hate me for some reason, but I'm not who you think I am. The look and the sword are just some crazy ass coincidence, but it is obvious that fate has brought us together for a reason. If you don't want a sparring partner, then so be it." Abel's feet shifted into a fighting stance, slightly more than shoulder width apart and the right being a little bit farther back then the left. He grasped the swords handle with both hands, right over the left, and held it firmly in front of his body at a slight angle to the right. "Since you don't want a sparring partner, then I guess you can concider me a hostile if you want. Don't get me wrong, I'm not your enemy but I do want to have some fun while I'm out here."

The serious look then turned back to sly grin as he waited for the man to get ready and maybe state his name.