Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-5999656-20191207035155

Power warped people. Everyone knew this.

There is nobody in the world who doesn't want to be stronger. In the course of her career as a Huntress, Lustra had come across many people who had dreamed of power since they were young, since some defining traumatic moment in their childhood, and ever since devoted themselves to becoming paragons against evil and bastions to shield the weak.

Some such people took this to heart, thinking that since they were the strongest, naturally they were the one who got to call all the shots. And everyone else had to listen to them, because they were the one true hero, the only one who knew what they were doing. Yet so many of these so-called heroes labored just as blind as those they thought their inferiors.

Lustra found herself faced with one such hero tonight. She had just said that backup was on its way. And yet Dust insisted on accompanying the mafia boss with the armored killer lizard into the night, towards a village that they couldn't even confirm actually existed. The sheer lack of logic in that decision stunned her, a feeling compounded by Dust's pointed refusal to check whether or not she was okay with his half-assed plan to run off with Jett in case things went south.

What to do....

If Dust wanted to leave with Diaboli, there wasn't anything she could do to stop him, that much was obvious. Starting a fight with him would make them only more vulnerable to the pale criminal, and arguing would waste precious time that they couldn't risk, not with Jett in her condition. On top of that, there was still the matter of her own mission from the night, one that she couldn't risk compromising over the words of a pain-addled cowboy.

Yes... Lustra couldn't stop Dust. And Jett would have to hold on a little longer.

"If you want to trust a criminal's words over mine, then I suppose I can't do anything," Lustra said at Dust's retreating back.

"But if you'd rather listen to a criminal than to me, then I think I'm staying right here. You were right. Someone needs to make it back to HQ alive. It can be all of us. Please don't make it be just me."

____________________________

The flames were higher than Maris now, their raging tendrils licking at Sorrel's body, crackling with the sparks of combusting machinery and scorching the walls of the bridge. Maris pressed herself against the door as sweat dripped uncontrollably down her face. But she stayed right where she was, torn remains of her jacket pressed over her nose to keep out the smell of roasting flesh as the waves of heat pressed like a hot cushion against her front.

A little longer...

She had to make sure the fire wouldn't be put out until Sorrel's remains were nothing but ash. Already the pyre engulfed the entire control panel, shooting out of the cracks in the windows and stretching out towards her again and again, the creation trying to kill its own master.

A little bit longer...

That should be enough.

In a flash, Maris reached behind her and unlocked the door, then ran out of the burning cabin, onto the deck, and vaulted over the yacht's barrier to land on the wet sand. She landed on all fours, panting from the exertion of her semblance. She turned for a moment to see the flames burst free from the bridge, wrapping around the outside of the room in a brilliant red blaze.

That was it. She was done. Maris struggled to her feet, and began sprinting inland, away from the remaining eyes still standing around the boat. A dull explosion behind her told her that the flames had finally reached the gas tank. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long before the entire thing was just a big bonfire floating on the waves.

As she tore through the dense woods surrounding the thin strip of beach, Maris felt a new wave of weariness wash over her. Tonight's actions, or rather, inactions, weighed like an anchor on her chest. She was going to have a lot to tell her family. Breaking the news of Sorrel's death, the people she'd met, the one-eyed man who had mistaken her for someone else... yes, she was going to tell them everything, because they needed to know everything. Any scrap of knowledge that would help protect against their enemies, Maris would give.

The lights of settlements blinked far in the distance through the foliage, mocking her with their diminutive size. Something major clicked in place in her mind, and Maris squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment.

Attacking her own family member all those months ago was idiotic. Betraying the loyalty of her own family for a selfish, half-assed attempt at a coup was unforgivable. After all the characters she'd met over the course of the night, one thing was crystal clear now. In this world, there was no one who would have her back besides her own family, the Hei'An crime family. Their supposed allies, the Engelnacht, had fled as soon as they'd moored the boat at the dock. And their other supposed allies, Narreau Technologies, had been the ones leading the raid on the facility.

Zanipher's words echoed in her head.

Loyalty to the family above all else.

Her decision was made. It was time to cast off the rude, uncaring mercenary character of "Maris" she had crafted for herself after being exiled from Vale. Alyxia Hei'An needed her family now more than ever, and now she knew it.

And the Ninth Dragon needed loyal subordinates always. While perhaps no one could have predicted the raid on the auction, the purpose of sending Alyxia into a den of criminals had been fulfilled. Now that the sheer amount of enemies in the world had been revealed to the rogue Daybreaker, all naive thoughts of rebellion had been wiped from her head for good, leaving in its place once more a loyal, promising young agent who could be groomed into an excellent spy given a few years' time.

Just as Zanipher had planned.