Wheels of Fortune [P]

Familiar droplets of rain dropped from the sky like leaves from a tree in autumn. The ground surrounding the areas of the monument was relatively damp, the water sinking below the surface of the soil and splattering on top of the varying pieces of marble that surrounded the vicinity. There was a humour about this situation.. the very same monument that her brother had destroyed would serve as her ceremonial promotion altar. A fleeting thought regarded Haru for but a moment, wondering how he was doing in the confines that the Mizukage had forced him into.. such a fall from grace that one had suffered. Yet that was the nature of the world, and who was Xyxer to try and change the laws of nature.. hell, he'd be the ones enforcing said practices outside of his own village soon.

The bulbous mass of scales that was Samehada found itself planted in the slightly unstable soil, firmly pressed with Xyxer's arm resting on top of the hilt while the man leaned upon it. The messenger had been sent to Aryll for her to meet him already in the form of Jester, perhaps his most trusted ANBU Operative. Jester and Wraith, true pinnacles of what he desired in ANBU.. they served not only him, but Haru in tow faithfully. That was the kind of serve he needed.. service to his village over himself. That was the foundation of a village that would survive throughout the aeons, just like the name of Kirigakure that the crusader had revived himself.

His blue mass of misaligned spikes maintained it's shapeless form crowning his head despite the interference of the rather damp weather, his cold, almost dead eyes seeming to carry a more ethereal quality about them in this rather grim weather. Would Aryll be arriving here sooner or later.. and more importantly, did she still care for her brother?

The overcast sky loomed over as Aryll glanced out the window. She was nursing wounds all over her body, bandaged, but not badly injured, from her recent victory in the exams. They were negligible now, hardly enough to keep Aryll down. Mostly soreness was all that remained from where the handful of kunai had pierced her body. As a knock came across the door, she glided across the room to open the door. A familiar mask greeted her, the mask of Jester. Aryll was rather uncomfortable being sequestered with Jester the Molester, but she was quickly relieved when he told her to meet with Xyxer himself at the Mizukage monument.

Without any protest, Aryll made her way to the monument, wheeling herself along through the stone streets of Kirigakure. She wore her flack jacket and dressed in full ninja attire, grey pants and blue long sleeve jacket under her armor. At the side of her chair was her kunai pouch, hung dutifully. Thane, however, was absent, still at her house, marked and ready for summoning, should the need arise. She reached the statue, her eyes falling upon Xyxer. She smiled warmly as she wheeled herself towards him. Aryll’s blank eyes seemed much warmer than the cold specs of light that belonged to Xyxer, though she was rather oblivious to this.

”Good afternoon, lord Mizukage.” She would say upon her approach.

The familiar sound of wheels screeching on cobble soon came into earshot, and Xyxer was aware that his guest would soon be joining him.. after all, very few cripples were able to even survive in this society. Not due to the violent nature of the civilians, as a large portion of Kirigakure had no need for violence.. the day to day lives of civilians was relatively untouched by the shinobi outside of the protection they offered. Xyxer was a cruel man, there was no doubt, but it was with purpose. Aryll, essentially, was a unicorn in this village.. something that by all rights should not exist; a wheelchair bound shinobi in Kirigakure was perhaps one of the most unlikeliest of scenarios.. yet here she wheeled.

He'd wait until the girl pulled up beside him before he turned his head towards her. Aryll's smile surprised him.. after so much bloodshed, he expected her to be shellshocked.. to not truly be in the moment.. yet she seemed to understand and accept it. His own lips curled upwards into a smile soon after to return the expression, nodding his head towards her in response to her greeting.

"Congratulations, Aryll. I'm proud of you."

As the Hyuuga Heiress wheeled through the cold, cobbled streets of Kirigakure, she was aware of the eyes falling upon her. She felt them wherever she went, but after her victory in the arena, the very tone of these wandering eyes had changed. She had gone from one who was pitied or scoffed at, one who was judged for her relation to the Second Mizukage, to one who was admired and adulated, praised for her victory. She was riding on a high from her performance in the arena, and for the first time in a long time, she felt completely at ease.

When she arrived at the statue, the mist and accompanying rain might have seemed eerie to an onlooker,  but it probably didn’t bother either of the two who stood before the statue. As she spoke, she saw Xyxer’s own features curl into a smile, and she felt her own grin growing slightly more. For one who had just recently killed a close friend and a fellow classmate, one would think Aryll would be quite jarred emotionally, but the only thing that left her shell shocked were the words that Xyxer spoke in greeting.

He was proud of her.

Aryll’s grin grew wider still  at the rare words of praise from The Abysswalker. In that moment, her mind was at ease, for she felt she finally felt that her actions in the blood games were truly justified. Whatever resentment Angel may feel for her brutal fighting style, and whatever guilt she might have felt for the lives she took melted away. This was as things should be.
”Thank you.” Was all she could make herself say. Xyxer may have expected her to be shell shocked from the lives she had taken, but only his praise had had such an effect on her. Now, she sat there in silence, unsure of what else to say.

”Thank you for allowing me to prove myself.” She said. She was referring to the Blood Games, thinking back to the speech he had given at the end about how she had proven everyone wrong about the stigma she carried. ”It was a relief to rid myself of my brother’s legacy.” She explained, realizing that she was being rather vague. She was tired of walking in the older Hyuuga’s shadow, and now that she’d revealed herself to be much more than he, she felt free.

The downpour continued to rain down from the sky, blanketing the ground in a thin layer of water that seemed to maintain it's depth despite the constant conflict with the drainage systems. As he gazed upon the girl that seemed be taken aback, he was starting to see much more than he saw previously.. he was starting to see more than just a way to hurt the traitor Haru. He started to see what could be a weapon not only against her brother.. but against the world itself. A soldier capable of feats that others couldn't perform solely due to the mechanism she found herself bound to. After all, when you're constricted to a wheelchair you're often forced to find solutions that think outside of the box on a day to day basis.. and that thinking could aid in the future of Kirigakure.

Ridding yourself of a bad name was always a rewarding experience. One that Xyxer had wished to accomplish by serving his Tenkage loyally.. yet as time went by he'd became the ANBU to many different Kages.. the stigma of not being able to fulfill your duty had haunted him from those days. The ANBU of Tengakure had, for the most part, been dealt with now that Xyxer was in power.. a cruel twisting of nature in the eyes of those that had been punished.. how a monster had acquired such power was a mockery of the system, in their eyes at least.. but only monsters were capable of taking what they wanted in this disgusting world.

He nodded his head to the girl's praise, holding his left hand out to the side with an open palm. Soon, a fanged metallic object came into view in the palm of his hand, or at least, the hilt did. The blade itself seemed to grow out from the hilt as it came into view, exposing the smallest version of Tidebreaker that was possible, although it was still rather formidable in appearance. "I'm sure you've been told about the custom I wish to uphold. It's our duty to bleed for our village, and so we must do it willingly. Guide the blade and slice your palm, then allow the blood to run onto the marble." Xyxer instructed, holding the blade facedown for her. Of course, he'd keep a hold of it due to the strength that was required to actually move it, but he'd allow the girl to guide it with her movements.

As the rain began to intensify, a fine sheen of water began to caress Aryll’s face, dripping down from her body and to the earth, careening across her chair and through her damp silver hair. She was conscious of the newly present need to care for her chair, for the rain would cause it to rust if left unattended, a most irritatingly monotonous task that she was forced to deal with due to Kirigakure’s climate, which likely more water than earth or air combined. It was ironic that the very thing she used to love most, the water, now was such a thorn in her side.

As Xyxer spoke, he had Aryll’s undivided attention. Like a moth before a light, she was transfixed by her mentor as he spoke of the ritual they were about to perform.
”Yes, of course.” She affirmed in response to his request for blood. As he held the blade out before her, Aryll lifted her left hand, as her right shoulder had been injured in the battle and wasn’t fully healed. She did not want to offer blood from her weakest side.

Well, second weakest. She thought bleakly, glancing to her legs for a moment before returning her focus to the task at hand. She lifted her left hand to one of Tidebreaker’s fangs, allowing her smooth skin, tarnished by calluses, to prick the edge of the blade. As she did so, she heard a voice, faint but surely there, whisper to her. She was unsure of what exactly was said, as the whispers were faint and seemed distant, but she managed to decipher a single word…

Traitor…

Smooth, metallic crimson began to erupt from her palm as she bled along the fang of tidebreaker. She lifted her hand and held it out, allowing the crimson liquid to drip along the stone. She looked to Xyxer for affirmation, as she always did. She was no traitor. She was loyal to the village, she was loyal to Xyxer, and this exercize prooved it. Right?

Very little had to be said between the two of them from this point on as the weight of the situation was palpable. Blood carried significance no matter how you cut it; In some cultures it was bled to remove evils and impurities, in others it was treasured and worshiped as the gift of life itself.. and who was Xyxer to denounce the interpretation of the sacred liquid? As long as the blood flowed the demon found no reason to complain. Throughout his plethora of battles, the beast had noticed that many injuries he inflicted upon his opponents had caused blood to froth from their quivering lips, spluttering out over their face as they took their final jagged breaths.. there was an irony in that.. the gift of life had drowned them in it's brilliance, and ever since those initial fights he'd held respect for the crimson that ran deep within his icy veins.

A faint yet distinct smell of iron perforated the senses of the beast. The initial act had been performed and a slice was evident upon the small hand of Aryll, releasing the sacred blood that soon dripped from her open palm. She knew exactly what to do as the stain ran down her hand and dripped onto the marble that had been stained prior to this; She wasn't the first, and she wouldn't be the last. All the while the creature watched on with a faint smile, like a father that just watched security footage of his victimized son beating his bully.

The wind that howled around them increased in it's velocity as it whipped throughout the village, yet to them, it'd be different. Raindrops lashed forcefully against their face, thrown off course from their destined path in order to assault their unprotected features. This wasn't a discomfort to Xyxer due to his Hozuki heritage, yet for the girl who hailed as the successor of the Hyuuga clan, used to being pampered by her brother.. Xyxer was unsure on what she made of it. As he glanced down towards the dripping of the blood, he'd notice the vicious wind dragging the blood off it's intended trajectory, spilling some of the blood off the designated spot.. Xyxer's smile faded as he looked up towards Aryll, a slight look of confusion evident as a thought started to ring through his mind.. was this a sign of the gods?

Despite the silence between them growing longer by the second, Aryll felt no need to fill it with simple words. Words could not fill the air quite like the weight of the action she was performing. Blood held weight for Xyxer. She was sure of that. What exactly it meant, she had no idea, but she could tell it had weight to him. For her, blood was everything. She was born by her blood, raised by her blood, made into the woman she is by her blood, and granted the gift of the highborn Hyuuga dojutsu by the grace of her very blood. The claret flowed from her body towards the marble, and she knew the weight of what she offered.

Xyxer’s faint smile was lost on Aryll, who would have delighted at the visage. She was engrossed in her task, making sure that her blood trickled down, slowly and surely, the precious liquid that it was, and met its destination safely. It was then that the wind increased in strength, blowing with surprising force, causing Aryll’s hair to whip from her face and obscure her vision. In that moment, her blood leapt from her hand to the dirt beside the marble, off of its plotted course. Aryll’s vision, obscured, did not permit her this knowledge. However, in the voice of the howling winds, she thought she heard a voice sing upon the winds.

Traitor…

Was it the gods speaking to her? What were they saying? To whom were they speaking, and of whom did they speak? Of her? How could she betray Xyxer? She had fought, bled, and killed for her friend. She would die for him, if he asked her to. How could it say that? …Or did the breeze speak of her brother, who had thrown both his and her own life away in an attempt on that of the Mizukage? She listened for more, but the wind made not a sound.

Her hair fell to her shoulders, allowing her to see once more. She realized that her head had tilted towards the sky in her attempt to listen to the voice of the breeze as well as to shield her eyes from the lashing of her own silver hair. She lowered her head now, looking back towards her hand and the marble… To see that some of her own lifeblood had fallen into the dirt, blown away by the breeze and off of its course. Her own eyes widened at this. What would Xyxer think of this? Without really thinking, she leaned forward, her chair tilting forward and emptying her onto the hard flags as her hand fell against the stone, her blood pressed hard against the stone as her determined features held fast against them. She would not let her blood be wasted, she would not let it be washed away from its course. She held her hand there for awhile, as the crimson liquor of her veins was pressed against the marble, the heart of the village. She would not let nature make a fool of her before Xyxer.

She stayed there, waiting for Xyxer to speak, unwilling to speak out of turn at the present moment. It was much too vital that she stay stoic.

When confronted with an unfamiliar situation, it was not uncommon for the instincts of a person to kick in. Some people would shy away from the situation and assess it from afar, others would engage it head on and figure it out as they go along. Usually, Xyxer would allow a situation to escalate before he could capitalize on it. It was what he had been taught by his mentor in the Old Mist, and if he had followed her teachings to the syllable then perhaps he would have walked a different path than he did currently. One that lead to a glorious field of green sprouting scores of majestic plants and grazing animals. A tranquil place, one that everyone could delight in.. but Xyxer could no longer head to such a beautiful place, not with everything he'd done. That option had died alongside his teacher.

Yet it was different at this point in time, an innate instinct kicked in for him, something that came second nature to him when he caught his sisters in danger whether it  be from tripping over household objects or even a downpour of rain when they wore their finest, he'd help them without a second thought. Helping people wasn't inbuilt into the former ANBU Captain, yet for family.. it was different. That was what made Aryll's forward movement so unique to him, as he found himself unable to prevent his own movement in turn. His sandals scraped across the floor in a series of short movements to grant himself a closer reach and an accommodating distribution of weight as he caught the girl's downwards momentum on the brunt of his torso.

The Abysswalker paused while in this position as he assumed the girl had became delirious in the moment. Perhaps she had never seen so much of her blood before and she had became lightheaded? His hands rest on the shoulder blades of the Hyuuga Heiress in what could be considered a sign of compassion as he moved her back up onto her throne, not seeming to care within the moment whether her blood had stained him; It'd make no difference after all, not with what he'd had done to the girl's grandfather and brother. Their blood would stain him for the rest of his life, and he was aware of that.

Once the girl stopped leaning forward, Xyxer would release her from the embrace before pulling one leg away. He made sure to not cross the blood on the marble as he dropped down to a crouch to be at the same height as the cripple. Ideally, Xyxer wanted to understand the girl just from peering at her. With his sharingan, he could.. but that'd ruin the game. Her brother had been a victim of his games, and only time would tell whether Aryll would emerge a victor or a piece of the puzzle. The once cold eyes now seemed to reflect some light, his features softening as he tried his hand at reassurance, "I appreciate the meaning behind what you tried to do, Aryll." Xyxer stated immediately, gratification went a long way, "There's no need for it. You're bleeding for your village as it is, it clearly means a lot to you as it should.. but don't throw yourself off your chair just because it misses the target for a drip or two. I know you didn't mean it, and you're not some sort of Wind God, at least from what I'm aware."

He tried to lighten the mood to make the girl feel better, perhaps from a sense of genuine compassion for a student that was beginning to grow on him, or something more sinister awaited her. Yet, for some reason.. the safety of the girl seemed to carry a weight that burdened the man's chest. There was a difficulty in naming that feeling and it's roots, for the male at least. He couldn't allow Aryll to fall onto her incapable knees and frail arms in a pose that would resemble a beggar.. it wasn't fitting.

Aryll Hyuuga was no stranger to blood, much less her own. In the past three months, she had seen quite a lot of it. She once thought that her blood was precious, that she could not allow a single drop to be spilled, that it was the essence of her pedigree, a powerful secret that she dare not share with another, purposefully or not. The day her world turned upside down and she felt every bone in her body crack at once, the day she had been crushed like an insect by her own brother, she had first truly tasted the true form of the iron substance, dripping from her lips and choking her. Her highborn blood spilled by her own brother in an attempt on the life of another. Caught in the crossfire. She began to learn what blood truly was.

Aryll took two lives in the blood games, and almost had her own taken in turn by Angel. Her friend, Shadowfax, crushed and shredded to pulp by Thane. The old man, blown to bits with a blast of water. Herself, beaten and bloodied, impaled by a thousand blades. They’d all shed blood in the games, and in them, Aryll came to better understand the importance of blood. She knew that it was her very blood that granted her the power she wielded, but that was not the end. Blood was precious. It gave her life. In shedding it for herself, she displayed her will to live. In shedding it for her village now, she displayed her will to serve.

What she did was impulsive, instinctive. She knew the meaning behind what she did and what she saw. Perhaps the symbolism and imagery became too powerful for the Hyuuga heiress, perhaps she was being foolish. Still, the urge to correct the mistaken trajectory of her blood was one that she did not and could not fight. It was something she did not understand or expect, merely something she felt. As she lurched forward from her chair, she wanted to show Xyxer how loyal she truly was. She wanted to show that she was not a traitor, as irrational as it sounded.

When a wall of cold flesh impeded her movement, Aryll found herself completely and totally surprised. She was leaning into the chest of Xyxer himself, and she felt his hands on her shoulders. Her blood-stained hand was pressed against his heart, covering his clothing in it. He didn’t seem fazed at all. He lifted her back into her seat, and Aryll’s eyes were wide as he knelt down to meet her gaze. She sensed a compassion in Xyxer now, one that she had not felt in some time… Ever, really. This time seemed markedly different from any interaction she’d had with him previously, though she could not say exactly how.

As their eyes met, Aryll’s white spheres, lacking pupils, would be decidedly difficult to read. Her brother often tried to appear stoic, using this feature of his to mask his own weaknesses, his anger chief among them. Still, Aryll was no stoic. She didn’t hide what she felt, and Xyxer would likely be able to see right into her soul through the silvery windows it peered out through. She was, still, taken aback by the display of kindness, dumbstruck, just as before. In her household, praise had been a rare thing. Not even Haru, who cared for every whim of his sister, had never really thought to praise her. In Xyxer, she found a confidant who she felt truly cared about her, not in the superficial, ceremonial way that the Hyuuga typically did. When she lost her ability to walk, and the companionship of the Mizukage, it broke her. Now, seeing her friend care for her as he had before, emotion flooded her mind, and she was unable to say anything of any real substance. She just sat there for a few moments, collecting herself. In the downpour, it would likely be impossible to notice the tears that ran lightly from her eyes. It might have seemed surreal, for the girl who was now crying over a friend was the same who had mercilessly put her own friend to death not but a short time ago. She didn’t think on the matter. Not at all. To her, it was a non issue, a memory already gone.

”...Th-thank you.” She croaked at last, an echo of what she had said earlier, put in a similar situation. The blood trickling from her hand stung, but she hardly noticed it now. The words felt slow and clumsy, as if her lips were moving in slow motion. It was hard for her to speak at all, choked with emotion as she was, but she tried her best. She felt the unrelenting urge to explain what exactly she was thankful for, but the process of finding the right words was difficult for her. She pondered for awhile, and then finally settled on her choice. "...I...I was weak. Weak in my body and my mind. Thank you for helping me overcome that." She told him, finally beginning to speak her mind.