Harry Potter & the Shipgirls

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XIX)

De Breuil Estate, Upstate New York

4 July, 1945
Spoiler: A De Breuil Luncheon

"Good afternoon, Congressman Borah." Delilah smiled as she escorted the plump congressman from the Floo Portal to the parlor as her mother's designated hostess.

"Howdy there, Miz de Breuil." The Congressman drawled as Delilah escorted him inside and curtsied to Jezabel, who was sitting with a shawl in her lap. "You are lookin' mighty fine indeed."

In the chair beside Jézabel, a Zamarad whose avatar looked to be about seven years old petted a striped tabby kitten in her lap as she curiously watched a second kitten from the litter that Mouser had given birth to chase and pounce an animated piece of yarn. Delilah's lips flickered in a small smug smile as she realized the ploy at hand as she pulled out a bottle of Old Toby's Premium Firewhisky for her guest.

"Thank you kindly, Congressman. May I introduce Miss Emma Fakhoury from Algiers?" Actually not a total lie, since she apparently does have one branch of her clan in the area. "She is a war orphan, her parents were part of the French Resistance against Grindelwald until they got executed shortly before we pushed them out of Africa." The best lies have a leavening of truth as Mother taught me. "They saved my unit with their information, so I adopted their orphaned daughter and brought her home with us rather than leave her to beg on the streets. You already know my mother, of course."

"That's mighty kind of y'all, Miz de Breuil. Mighty kind indeed." Borah agreed as she handed him the shot glass of firewhisky.

Delilah smiled happily. "Thank you very much.I fear I must perform my rounds as Mother's able assistant as hostess, since we have another guest arriving."

With that she headed to the portal as a bell chimed to signal another imminent arrival. She curtsied to the tall and thin patrician features of Congressman Dominic Arnold, chairman of the MACUSA Finance and Oversight committee. The mane of gray-white hair and mutton-chops that had given him his name of 'Lion of the Congress' wagged as he nodded his head. "Major de Breuil. It is good to see you once more. Benedict mentioned you in his letter to me last month."

Delilah gave him her best smile as behind her warm welcoming expression and twinkling eyes, her brain moved at overdrive computing probabilities. "Oh? Nothing bad I hope, Congressman."

"Quite the reverse, really. He said that you did an admirable job crushing Grindelwald's fanatics and he wishes that you were in Germany working under him dealing with their remnants and the filthy Reds." Arnold said in his nasal Boston voice as she escorted him into the parlor.

"Thank you very much, Congressman." Delilah agreed pleasantly as she spared a glance for Zamarad while pouring firewhiskey for the other guest.

The disguised Ifrit picked up the indignant kitten and began to babble in French to it. "Qui est un bon petit garçon? Oui tu oui tu es..."(who is a good little boy yes you yes you are)


"Emma." A clearly unamused Jézabel gave the 'child' one of her basilisk stares. "I fear that you need to have an English Lesson to learn our language. If you must play with my cats, at least do so in a language everyone speaks. Delilah," Jézabel gave the braced to attention Delilah a commanding glare, "I expect you to correct that problem with her education before she is sent to boarding school to prepare for Ilvermorny. It would reflect poorly upon us should she be unable to express herself properly. Go and tend to that now."

Delilah nodded in obedience as she took Zamarad's hand. "You can play with the cats later, Emma. For now, let us head to the downstairs kitchen and I shall get some sandwiches to teach you outside in the apple orchard."

Jézabel watched her daughter go and shook her head. "She means well, but still has much to learn."

Borah laughed. "She's been an Auror since I was a boy and you still treat her like she was six and raiding the cookie jar, Jez. Still out with it, you didn't ask us over for lunch to show off your new project." Arnold nodded in agreement, his eyes intent.

Jézabel gave a thin smile. "We know that the War will end soon. The No-Maj have taken Okinawa and the next step is Japan itself. Germany has already fallen and Grindelwald is in custody, with Kamo to follow suit. I have recently received word that the Navy has confirmed Yamatai is on the bottom of the Pacific now, so revenge for our dead there. We need to look ahead now. That young child is indicative of a greater problem on our hands, gentlemen. "

Borah frowned as he thought about how this would impact the Foreign Affairs Committee that he chaired. "How so?"

Jézabel shook her head with a frown on her face. "The events of the last four years since we were attacked on December Seventh have proved that our oceans are no shield from other people's problems slopping over onto us. MIB was able to warn us in time to prepare for the war with Grindelwald, but Kamo blindsided us because we did not have enough eyes looking outward. Worse yet, the old empires are tottering. The British are a shell of what they were before the Great War, and France is regaining what they had before they fell. They can no longer keep a lid on matters in Europe, Asia, and the Colonies any more. Which leaves us and the Soviets."

Arnold nodded as he sipped his drink. "Us and the Reds."

"Indeed. Worse is that either we prop up someone in Germany and Japan or cede control to let the Soviets do that. If we cede control, than we leave ourselves vulnerable to another sneak attack once more. Director Johnston forwarded me a report that says that the No-Maj government plans on a permanent occupation of Japan just like Germany, at least until matters can be resolved there and we can root out the fascists." Jézabel's eyes glittered as she continued. "Which means we need to make the wartime expansion of MIB more regular and start to handle things that we cannot expect others in the ICW to handle for us. Also I have copies of Delilah's memories of the kind of devastation the No-maj armies inflicted upon communities in Europe and Africa, and to be blunt we need to insure they never point their guns at us."

Jézabel finished, looking at the other two congressmen. "In short, we need to rethink our position on isolation and start to take a more proactive approach to our threats, lest our enemies instead do such for us...."

Meanwhile outside in the apple orchard Delilah cuddled with the now-adult Zamarad and fed her wood chips as they listened to the supposedly private conversation through the flames that Zamarad was controlling in the parlor fireplace and outside in a campfire.

Delilah kissed the Ifrit as she watched the scene. "This is quite a useful ability of yours. I am also glad that you gave me the coded all-clear sign about Congressman Arnold so I won't have to arrange a fatal accident for him."

Magical Congress of the United States Headquarters, Woolworth Building, New York City

August 8th, 1945

The newly pinned silver oak leaves on Lieutenant Colonel of Aurors Delilah de Breuil's shoulders shook with the trembling in her frame. Slowly the newly minted deputy assistant head of the now-forming Near Eastern Department of the Magical Information Bureau rewound the memory of the newsreel that had just been seen by the No-Maj today. Showing what the No-Maj had managed to do.

Inside the ring that she wore, Zamarad had equal emotions of disbelief, shock, and awe at what she was witnessing. She remembered a phrase from the Hindu epic of the Bhagavad Gita that she had read in the Potter's library.

A phrase that, unknowing to her, had been spoken by J. Robert Oppenheimer at 5:29 AM on the morning of July 16th, 1945.

The Dawning of the Atomic Age.
Spoiler: I Am Become Death, The Destroyer Of Worlds

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XX)

New York City

August 14th, 1945 (V-J Day)
Spoiler: V-J Day

Delilah was hard at work typing out a memo to justify the hiring of an Arab-language expert to work with her when the shouting outside the office registered.

Irritated, she stuck her head out the door to her office and snapped. "Keep it down, I'm trying to work here!"

"The Japs threw in the towel!" was the response from a happily grinning Tina Goldstein as she waved a special edition of the New York Ghost at her.

The top half of the page was a two word headline.

WAR ENDS

Delilah's eyes bulged and she teared up. She joined her own voice to the celebration in the main area of the Magical Information Bureau. "Right, anyone working for me, come back in twenty-four...no. Seventy-two hours! Don't do anything to let the No-maj know who we are and don't look to have me bail anyone out of the drunk tank because I'll be in there with you all!!"

With that proclamation, Delilah joined the general exodus to the growing party in the streets outside. She paused to enter a restroom on the second floor and hastily summoned Zamarad in a toilet stall. "You saw?"

The Ifrit nodded with tears in her eyes and gave Delialh a deep, passionate kiss. "Indeed I did!"

Delilah returned the kiss, grinning happily. "No need to hide our relationship today, I think. Not with how everyone will celebrate."

With that the Ifrit and revolver made their way to the streets outside. "So, the big question is," she accepted a bottle from a passerby who saw her uniform and drained it after giving him a kiss, "is where do we go to celebrate. Times Square, maybe, but...."

Zamarad gave her a hooded look. "Let's shop for jewelry then."

Delilah laughed and headed to the nearest subway station. "I bet you a kiss that all the sales clerks at Tiffany's are out partying."

Tiffany & Company

727 5th Avenue, New York City, New York
Spoiler: An Ifrit In Emerald...

Delilah, looking seriously ruffled from kisses given and received and grinning ear to ear alongside an equally beaming Zamarad entered the upscale luxury retailer. At the sight of a pair of elderly clerks she laughed ruefully and whispered to Zamarad. "I guess you win our bet."

The Ifrit gave a smouldering gaze as she nodded happily, clad in a finely cut dark brown woolen dress from Delilah's closet.

The nearest clerk turned to them. "Can I help you ladies?"

Delilah smiled and curtsied in her Women's Army Corps uniform. "Actually, yes sir." She spoke in her most upper-crust New York accent. "My friend Emma here shall be wed to my brother John once he returns from overseas duty in Germany. Mother has agreed to assist her in assembling her bridal trousseau and we were wondering what selection you have of fine jewelries that we can price so I can report to Mother to make her wedding the talk of the Hamptons."

The Clerk noticed the extreme upper-class bearing of the WAC captain in front of him along with the clear quality of Zamarad's outfit and nodded to himself mentally. "Follow me please, ladies. I shall see about bringing out a selection that will satisfy."

Twenty minutes later, Zamarad clutched Delilah's arm hard enough to bruise as the clerk brought out a platinum, emerald and diamond Art Deco wedding tiara for examination.
Spoiler: Zamarad's Bride-Price

Zamarad's eyes widened at the sight of the flashing verdant fire of the large emerald mounted as the centerpiece of the tiara. The very very familiar large emerald in the centerpiece with a faint glow that might have been a trick of the light.

But it wasn't.

Delilah's eyes met Zamarad's and she nodded. "Let me see how it looks on Emma here."

The clerk and the Muramasa both gave impressed whistles at the red-headed princess in the mirror as she beamed at the sight of herself.

"I'll put a hold on that one until I can speak to Mother and arrange a bank draft for the $600,000 purchase cost. It's perfect for the planned wedding for Emma." Delilah said in a awed voice as she began to fill out the paperwork to reserve the tiara.

Zamarad's eyes gleamed with fire as she looked at the tiara and remembered a prophecy of her birth. A prophecy that she was sworn not to reveal so that her fated love would be properly tested.

A prophecy of a bride-price of an emerald crown.

-------------------------------------------
Spoiler: ...And A Gathering Storm

MACUSA Headquarters

13 December 1945

"Thank you." Delilah smiled at the young red-headed intern who had just fetched her some coffee. Her efforts to legitimize Zamarad had borne fruit and the Ifrit, in her new name as Emeraude de Rosier (Cohen) was now the junior secretary and analyst in her office.

Delilah sipped the coffee and thought about how the Ifrit was now a homeschooled near-Squib refugee from France according to MACUSA who had gotten records forged by Lyra Potter as part of her immigration paperwork. Fortunately for all concerned, the recordkeeping for the French Ministry of Magic on such things was kept in the provincial centers, and the archives in Caen had not survived the street fighting that wrecked the medieval Norman town. So the only paper trail was of course the one generated by the British when she 'fled Hitler', then married her late subordinate Gideon Cohen shortly before he dropped into Normandy and was killed there.

Delilah mused idly that she just needed to make sure Zamarad never visited Los Angeles where her 'husband's family' lived.

With that cheerful thought, she scribbled her signature on the latest report to appear in her inbox. The document promptly folded itself into the form of a paper rat and ran down the tube in the wall for such Memorandum Rodentia. She picked up the next report and froze.

It was a list of files that MIB were reporting that the Soviets now had acquired from caches in East Germany. The words Grendel, Vargr -- the German name for the twisted incredibly fast and blood-mad werewolves that she and her squad had called Wulfen -- and Vampire were like a spiked punch in her stomach. Never mind the research on jinn unbindings.

For she knew in her soul that the Shayatan in MIB was responsible for this breach. responsible for the start of a new magical arms race between the two superpowers.

Zamarad knocked on the door.

"Enter!" Delilah snapped out, running her fingers through the hair.

Zamarad placed another report on her desk after closing the door and engaging the wards. "We have a major problem, I suspect. I will have to check with my family, but I am led to believe that there is a Seal here in this part of Persia where the Soviets have just set up the Kurdish Republic of Mahabad."

Delilah winced. "Right, no rest for the wicked. I need to touch base with your family anyway."

 

[darthcourt10]

lt_agn02

It was sweltering under the tropical sunlight. It wasn't even summer yet. As Aso wiped some sweat off her brow, the battleship beside her unscrewed the cap of her canteen and offered it to her.

"Aso, did you drink through your whole canteen?" Missouri asked.

"...Hai...both of them…"

Missouri practically shoved her canteen into Aso's arms. "Drink. Don't push yourself. You're supposed to drink around four liters of water every day. More if you've been active."

Aso nodded and took a swig from the canteen, the cool water soothing her parched throat. As she handed it back, an unsettling thought entered her mind.

Every time she saw Carrier Division One sortie, she never saw them carry any canteens or water bottles. Yet as far as she knew, they came back just fine. Maybe it's a lack of training. Or maybe there was something else at play that she doesn't understand.

"Missouri-san, does everyone drink that much water?"

The battleship sighed. "Not as many as I hoped, honestly. Yeah, ship girls can retain water and drink less of it overall, but that's not an excuse for neglecting your health." Seeing the carrier's expression as she walked away from Admiral Settle's office, the battleship shrugged. "...And try not to look too much into what Settle says. He's a bit...eccentric, shall we say."

"Yeah...and the Lance Corporal next to him is no better…" Aso handed back the canteen with a pained look on her face. "Thanks for the water…"

Missouri nodded. "As long as you carry at least four liters in your hold with you at all times. That's what I hear CarDiv1 does."

'So that's how they do it!'

Silently, the two of them continued down the hallway of the administrative building before stopping at a very battered door. Nervously, Aso produced the paperwork she was supposed to give the man behind the door. After having to meet Admiral Settle, there was still this rear admiral she had to deal with.

She hoped the rumors weren't true.

She prayed Admiral Stanley Smith wasn't a former CIA agent that could kill a man with half a paper clip.

With a nervous breath, she knocked on the door.

"Come in."

The carrier opened the door, fully expecting to see someone that at least looked like Settle. Instead, she was greeted by a kind-looking African-American man that stood up as soon as she opened the door.

"You must be Aso," the man greeted. "I'm Rear Admiral Stanley Smith, Commander of Ship Girl Operations."

"Y-Yes, sir. Unryuu-class aircraft carrier Aso. It's a pleasure, sir…" As she shook his hand, the carrier couldn't help but feel he looked somewhat similar to the man she saw in an old movie...the one with the snakes on the airplane.

The man shuffled his paperwork around just as the girl sat down in front of him. Missouri, for her part, was trying to make the room as less cramped as it already was by standing against the wall. The key word being "trying".

"I've heard a lot about you," he said. "Arizona calls you the 'Jingoistic Jackass'. Is that true?"

The carrier felt herself wilt. "I...I suppose…"

"Looking at the records Shimada gave me...I think you'll fit in just fine. There's no better teacher than on-the-job experience. We could do without the 'jingoistic' part, that's for sure. But we could always use another jackass."

"...Sir?"

"According to Admiral Shimada, you rescued a whole community and set them up with steady aid out of your own pocket. All without authorization from command. How is it doing at the moment?"

Aso hesitated. "T-They're doing well, sir. I don't have to go back often, but sometimes they give me a few pieces of fruit as thanks."

Smith nodded. "Good, good. I like that initiative. In that case…" He typed a few things onto a file. "Did Admiral Settle give you the rundown of expected behavior, UCMJ, and the rules regarding this naval base?"

"Hai."

"Saves me a lot of trouble, then. All right. For the rest of today and tomorrow, you'll be acclimating to operations here. Mainly in the realm of sustainable operations. Even if supply routes are opened up, we don't want to get choked out if the Abyssals decide to cut us off again. The day after tomorrow, there is a mandatory briefing on disaster relief and sustainable operations for you and all new personnel, so make sure you attend."

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Now then, that aside, I'll be assigning you a battle buddy."

The carrier shook her head. "With all due respect, sir, I'm not a fan of that system."

"I wasn't asking for your opinion, sailor, but if you must know, it's required. That's why you're here, isn't it? You went off on your own and caused a lot of trouble when you got back, didn't you?"

The carrier shrank in her seat.

"Going off on your own in Japanese waters is one thing. I will not tolerate a renegade operating out of Pearl. Even the submarines patrol in pairs." Smith narrowed his eyes. "Not to mention that you are an aircraft carrier. You're literally the fattest seal in a sea full of sharks, so you at least need an escort to keep you alive."

"U-Understood, sir."

"However, during operations, you will be the center of the formation regardless, so we don't necessarily have to worry too much about a battle buddy there. Everyone here already knows from basic doctrine to protect the carrier at all costs. Therefore, on-base, I'm putting you under Bowfin's care while you are here."

"B-Bowfin, sir?"

"The Pearl Harbor Avenger herself."

Aso gulped nervously.

"D-Didn't she sink the Tsushima Maru?" She asked. "The passenger ship full of children?!" Aso retorted. "A-And you want to assign me to her?!"

Admiral Smith glanced at Missouri. Said battleship looked like she was going to pummel Aso into a pile of scrap heap out of blind protective instinct. He waved the Iowa-class off, to which the woman crossed her arms and took a moment to calm herself.

"I wouldn't bring that up if I were you," Smith told her. "She's been kicking herself for that incident ever since she got back." He leveled a solemn look toward the girl in front of him. "I will only say this once: we don't want someone getting so low that self-scuttling becomes a valid option in their eyes."

Aso tugged at her collar, then looked down at her knees. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Heck, what was she supposed to think? When she was first Summoned, she would have gladly shot her mouth off at the prospect of being assigned with the submarine that sank Tsushima Maru. She would have proudly declared Bowfin as the prime example of why the Americans were incorrigible monsters.

But that was then. That was before she even thought of why she acted the way she did or thought the way she thought.

That was before she got captured.

The admiral continued. "As for Tsushima Maru…"

The door slammed open and made Aso jump from her seat. Turning around, she found a young girl no more than twelve years old. A Japanese girl at that. The young girl looked up awestruck at the carrier, her eyes sparkling. Swiftly, she turned around.

"BOWFIN-MAMA!" she yelled as she ran away. "I FOUND HER! I FOUND THE NEW JAPANESE CARRIER! DO I GET A PRIZE NOW?"

"Tsushima Maru!" the admiral yelled after her. "No running in the halls!"

"Sorry!" the little girl yelled back.

Smith just chuckled, turning back to a dumbstruck Aso. "Cute kid, isn't she? Reminds me of my oldest before she went to middle school. Anyway, that sums up her situation quite nicely, don't you think? I hope you like babysitting, Aso. Because you're gonna be doing that a lot from now on."

All Aso could do was nod awkwardly.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XXI)

IG Farben Building, Frankfurt am Main, American Occupation Zone, Germany.

December 15th, 1945
Spoiler: A War Of Shadows And Mirrors

Gaumâta tamped down his reflexive anger at the maggots inhabiting the buildings that now housed the Occupation Authorities. He could not wait for the day when the children of mud would be forced to bow down to their true rightful overlords.

A day which was coming sooner and sooner with each move made by him on the chessboard.

A smugly cruel smirk flickered around his lips and he heard the fool who had thought to Pact him scream internally as he hammered his fists into the flaming cage of the superior being's will once more. He breathed in, savoring the torment of the despairing screams of disbelief as he used his host's face to infiltrate the power structure of this 'United States' to weaken them in preparation for the day which would restore proper order to the universe.

He seated himself behind his stone-faced driver and nodded. The car began to speed off and he chuckled darkly as the Imperiused soldier drove him back to his headquarters.

With a stop on the way to drop off the package that he had received from Benedict Arnold's worried father. After all his favorite son had seen the newsreels and was curious about what the no-maj maggots were up to.

He touched the book that the head of the MACUSA Finance and Oversight Committee had procured for him through the services of MIB. Gibberish to him, but the inventive worms would no doubt find a way to advance their appetite for destruction.
Spoiler: A Guide To Armageddon

His contact on the other side of what would one day be called the Iron Curtain would definitely find this interesting and useful to advance his standing in the Gosudarstvennyy Komitet po Magicheskim Voprosam.

Inflaming paranoia as 'Ben' then reported from his contacts that he was weaving in Eastern Europe about how the Soviets were rearming magically as the Soviets in turn frantically labored to catch up with the Yankees.

Not least was that he had received word that his 'report' about how Grindelwald's mages had learned some of their magics from freed genies sunken in bottles, along with a map of those underwater sites that the SS had been excavating had reached the ears of decision makers in Moscow. The sites that housed his kindred, who had been sworn to work together to unbind the Dark Master.

Why the maggots would unknowingly unbind the seals upon their superiors and then be forced to kneel as was proper.

Or burn.

With that cheerful thought, he directed his driver to make a detour. There were so many of these insects, and he was feeling peckish after dealing with his 'superiors'. Burning alive a family or three would do him a world of good.

----------------------------------

La Mamounia Hotel, Marrakesh, Morocco

3 January 1946
Spoiler: A trip To A Family Reunion

Delilah de Breuil looked out across the Old City of Marrakesh from her hotel window as the sun set. She heard a footstep behind her and half-turned to see Zamarad clad in a towel step from the bathroom. The Ifrit walked to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder gently.

Zamarad whispered gently. "You did not have to do this, you know."

Delilah shook her head. "No, I did. You deserve to see your family after so long without them. So I will drop you off here to visit while I handle matters in Persia for MIB, then send you a letter once my business is concluded. They need to be warned anyway. About the escapee and... other things."

Both hushed as they remembered the images of what the no-maj had unleashed upon humanity to end the World War. Knowing deep in their hearts that these would be the weapons that any future World War would be fought with.

Delilah spoke quietly into the pregnant stillness. "Even without that, seeing your family after over three years without is the right thing to do. Letters are one thing, but I know full well what the pain of separation from your family truly is."

Zamarad nodded in solemn agreement. "And I think you for it, Delilah."

The Muramasa's lips curled in a smug smile as she hugged the Ifrit. "Just be sure not to eat all the woodchips in the trunk. Save some for your parents and brothers. Don;t think that I have not noticed how curvy that you have gotten, love."

"Delilah!" Zamarad's face flamed as red as her hair. "You take that back!!"

----------------------------------

The two women walked through the winding streets of the Old Quarter the following day. Presently they reached an anonymous house and Zamarad knocked on the door. She then turned to the hired porter with her space-expanded trunk and spoke in Arabic. "{Put that down here.}"

Delilah smiled, and then handed over several gold coins.

"{For your services.}" she spoke in her practiced Arabic, silently blessing Zamarad's lessons in her mother tongue and Persian. That combined with Colombe's spell to help learn foreign languages rapidly had managed to give her fluency, albeit with a minor accent.

As the porter departed, Delilah gave a cold look at two rather shabbily dressed men turning their way. The two pickpockets took the obvious warning to heart and moved further down the street in search of easier prey than the steely-eyed kafir.

Presently the door opened and Zamarad smiled broadly, embracing the young man inside and kissing him on both his bearded cheeks. "{Ismaeel! Brother!}"

The disguised jinn returned the embrace. "{Younger sister! Come in, come in, with your friend too!}"

Delilah, remembering her lessons in etiquette, extended her right hand to shake, making eye contact, and bowing slightly. "{Peace be upon you, gracious host!}"

"{And upon you, peace!}" was the expected traditional response and Delilah mentally breathed a sigh of relief at the necessary first step taken in the intricate dance of host and guest in the traditions of the jinn.

Inside the house, Delilah sat on a cushion and scooped up mutton with the flatbread in her right hand. Across from her, Ismaeel, the younger and mustached form of the eldest son of the man of the house named Hamza and Zamarad ate from an assortment of American hardwood wood cuttings and chips from the opened trunk.

Ismaeel then pinned her with a flaming stare. "We are grateful to you for your help in protecting our family's charges, and for returning Zamarad to us. What can we do to assist with that debt?"

Delilah matched the stare. "I wish to find a way to liberate her from the ring that she is trapped in." Delilah pointed to the gold ring on the necklace that Zamarad was wearing. "Also, there are strong indications that one of the jinn who you know as the Law-Breakers was released to walk the surface of the Earth once more during the recent war. I need to deal with him, ideally with death if one such as he can be truly killed, but if not imprisonment will serve."

The Muramasa revolver's smile was viciously smug and cold as ice. "If imprisonment is required, I have the perfect location to insure that he never gets out. After all, the Great Lake that the first humans to see it named Gitchigumi never gives up her dead. Ever."

Matching vicious needle-pointed smiles answered her words from the jinn present. "I must speak to my father about such matters of course, but in principle, I see little problem with such aid."

Delilah smiled warmly. "Thank you. I shall spend the next few weeks dealing with a crisis in Persia near the shores of the Caspian Sea. It may be linked to the Law-Breaker that I am contesting with, Zamarad mentioned that there may be a Seal there that needs to be defended. Any introduction that you can give me with your counterparts there will be helpful. Zamarad has the details and will be staying here until I return on the trip back to America. She... also has information about developments in the Magical and nonmagical worlds that may be of interest to you."

More nods answered her words as a young boy entered with a pot of coffee. "We shall send word to those whom we know such as the Storyteller. Just check into the hotel in Persia under your true name and we shall get in touch."

Delilah bowed her head. "I am grateful for any assistance you and your friends can give." With that she sipped the thick coffee, thankful that Zamarad had also persuaded her to get used to the taste of Ifritroasted beans. The coffee that was being served could wake the dead, in her humble opinion. It might be even able to sober up her sister Jacklyn.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XXII)

Mahabad, Republic of Mahabad, Northwest Persia

February 15th, 1946

Delilah watched with curiosity behind her apparent ox-like indifferent expression as a group of Red Army soldiers drove a Packard Truck past her.

Considering the loaded rifles and general air of arrogance directed at the locals, it would not take too much to generate a nice incident to further drive wedges between Stalin and the Kurdish leadership. Say a public accusation of rape paired with one of the locals taking a shot at a Russian soldier who were nominally 'peacekeeping' this part of Persia.

Fortunately for this bunch of Ivans, this was not her current mission, nor was she her sister Colombe the Trouble Magnet.

With that she ducked into a side street, reflecting on her path to the meeting that she was heading toward.
Spoiler: Playing The Great Game

As it turned out, her request to Zamarad's family had borne fruit. As she flew to Cairo from Morocco, then to catch a steamer to Persia, word had been transmitted from mouth to mouth ahead of her. For as Miss Delilah de Breuil, Special Correspondent sent by the New York Times -- which would have been news indeed to The Gray Lady since she had never been hired by the self-styled 'Paper of Record' -- arrived in Bandar Abbas on the Persian Gulf, she had a unexpected surprise waiting for her....

"Miss de Breuil?" The hotel concierge handed over an envelope that had been waiting for her at arrival. "You have a message."

Delilah smiled and tipped him a silver half-dollar as she took the envelope and read the contents handwritten in neat English.

Palm Garden Restaurant
7:00 PM
Dress Nicely.

Delilah looked at the clock and grinned. "It seems I have a dinner appointment. If you can perhaps arrange transportation to this restaurant?"

Freshly changed into one of her nice shirtwaist dresses (and carrying her normal covert package of true body, primary and backup wand, Bowie knife, garrote, and a smoke grenade in her purse), she had made her way to the meeting point in question.

She stepped into the private room, automatically sweeping the area visually for threats. The only other occupant was a slender dark haired Arab woman. Delilah automatically extended her hand for a shake and gave the normal greetings as she sized the lady up. Five-four, about one-twenty pounds, slender but clearly had been active with her build, no obvious weapons. Clothing was finely cut and definitely showed that she was used to the halls of power. Calluses on the hands were those of a scholar.

"Thank you for coming, Miss de Breuil. I have heard many things about you from my friends and have been looking forward to this meeting for years. May I recommend the catch of the day?" Delilah's mental antennae pinged at the flawless British English of her contact, and elected to advance her own gambit.

"{When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Miss...?}" Delilah responded in her Arabic, measuring the young woman for any obvious tells as she showed one of the cards in her deck.

A throaty laugh showed white, pearly teeth at her words. "{There must be quite a story with you indeed. Over and above the tale of one of the jinn falling for you that I have heard whispered on the wind. But speaking of the thousand and one stories that I could tell if we had a thousand and one nights to listen to them all, I am sure that you have heard my name before?}"

She sipped a glass of water as Delilah's eyes narrowed and the revolver spoke in English. "Scheherazade. I have read both the 1880 Burton translation after I acquired it in 1902 and then later on Galland's French translation from 1710 when I picked up a copy in Europe during the War. Obviously not the original source material, but a valuable resource with nuggets of true knowledge hidden in the allegory and poetic license."

"Scheherazade indeed." The young-seeming woman agreed. "You wished to know what kind of trouble could be unleashed by the current events in the north of Persia and how to put a stop to it if so?"

Delilah nodded, watching the woman like a hawk. "I do. I would also like to curb Russian influence there, of course, but the Great Game takes a back seat to insuring that the board does not get knocked over to the detriment of all."

"Wise, very wise. Just as wise as the hero of a story that I know from that region. Of course, it is tradition for a story to be given for a story, as you are well familiar." Scheherazade agreed. "Also I have some friends who know people who you may wish to talk to there to find the truth of matters."

Delilah grinned and leaned back on her cushion. "I shall give you one of my own stories in return. Perhaps the tale of Wakinyan the Thunderbird assisting humanity against the Great Horned Serpent of the waters Unk Cahkula?"

Scheherazade bowed her head. "That will do for a first meeting between story-holders." She sat upright and assumed the position of a storyteller. Her voice grew stronger and her dark, knowing, ageless eyes sparkled as between her hands a scene from her story formed. "Hear O Caliph, for in the days of Iskander the Great, one of his captains heard tales of a temple of wrought bronze upon the shores of Kaboodan Island in Lake Urmia....."

Delilah grinned smugly at the memory of what the storyteller had told her about one of the children of Erlik Khan imprisoned there and the means used to seal him up. She touched the pouch containing a curiously shaped bronze amulet that the prior owner had no further use for since he and his NKVD squad who had manned the boat that came ashore were currently feeding the fish at the bottom of Lake Urmia.

She was not in the mind to return it to Moscow's Institute of Central Asian Studies anytime soon, either.

Witht at in mind, she knocked on the door that she had been directed to. Upon entrance, she consented to a search of her person, and with a twinge gave up her true body and Bowie knife. They missed the wand that was serving as a hairpin, though.

Still, she hopefully would not need that since she was carrying the deadliest weapon in existence into her meeting with the head of the Republic's Defense Council, Mustafa Barzani.

Information and a mind to use it.

While she did not expect to change his mind overnight, she could plant the seeds of distrust against the Russians and the potential of an opening for future visits to forge an alliance with the Kurdish tribes of the area.

After all, Russia was an immediate threat to the Kurds if the Bear elected to expand this way, and the example of the Chechens was fresh on everyone's mind. Plus Stalin was Georgian and feuds among the tribes of the Caucasus Mountains and neighboring regions were old and bitter. On the other hand, America was far distant, so not threatened at all by Kurdish activities done on its behalf.

----------------------------------------

Beirut, Lebanon

February 19th, 1946
Spoiler: A Leave Taking

"I wish that you did not have to go so soon, daughter." Emerald sparkled from the ornate silver earrings that Periezade wore, matching the color of her shadowed eyes.

"As do I, Mother." Zamarad responded. "But you and Father have seen my memories and know what is at stake for us all. Uncle has also seen them now and is spreading the word among our kin. And... even if the world was at peace, I would still wish to be with Delilah."

The Emira nodded solemnly. "I heard the prophecy on my wedding day just as your father did. Knowing that such is Fated makes it scarcely easier to bear."

Zamarad's own eyes shadowed as she remembered the ghost of her beloved elder sister who had also been entrapped by the prophecy and died as a result.

Tamenokalt.

"Mother...? Did you ever regret leaving home to wed Father? When we visit your family, you seem... different." Zamarad spoke hesitantly.

Periezade shook her head. "At one time, yes. I was Djinn, the daughter of a Sultan. Moving to your Father's court was quite a change in many ways. Always on the move, patrolling his domain. So different from the stability that I had known all my life. And yet, now when I look back on it, that was something that I missed and yet desired without knowing of it as a girl. So now, no regrets, not least because of you, your brothers and your sister who I bore to the jinn that I love."

Zamarad bowed her head and then took another cedar twig to savor. "I am beginning to see now why Delilah loves the Americas so. It grows on you over time." She spoke thoughtfully as she slowly consumed the savory wood. "It helps that she has led me to see her homeland through her eyes."

"Indeed it does, Daughter. You know that she is mortal and that you will almost certainly outlive her, even though she comes from long-lived stock of the Children of Earth. And very often heroes have short and painful lives," Periezade spoke quietly as she took one of the last chips of American Chestnut, "since in the end they are all consumed by what drives them to reach greatness, leaving behind but memories and monuments that crumble to dust one day."

Zamarad nodded. "I know, and when that day happens -- may it happen far from now! -- I shall mourn and always remember her. For if Delilah's life shall be that of an ember, still she burns so brightly against the darkness. Brighter than I ever dreamed that it would be possible for one soul to blaze."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Deep in the Alaskan wilderness, was quiet in the predawn light. That was, of course, when there was the sound of air being displaced and suddenly there were a group of humans standing there. Dusting herself off, one of the witches in a rather expensive looking suit and cloak looked around with a frown, "Where exactly are we? And this better be good considering it looks like we are in the middle of nowhere."

Simply nodding, one of the Wizards, or perhaps witches for it was hard to tell, chuckled behind their mask, "Trust me, Madam Laird, it is." Looking around behind his Raven mask, they nodded, "As to where we are? We're in Central Alaska and there is not any human settlement in any direction for several hundred miles. And what ones there are that are 'Close', they barely number more than a few hundred No-Majs at most. Perfect for Project Mayflower."

Frowning, though only partially because she hated these 'Cloak and Dagger' things, including how one was unable to tell what gender any of the masked magicals were. Their masks and cloaks prevented anyone from making out details of their bodies, and the masks distorted their voice, making identification impossible even as it also took out any emotional tones in their voices.

Like many, Chief of Staff for MACUSA, Athena Laird found it creepier than hell.

Slapping at her neck due to a fly biting her, she scowled as she decided that she hated this trip more for being out in the middle of nowhere. A scowl on her face, she gave the best glare she could, "I see... and what, may I ask, is Project Mayflower? President Quahog wants me to check up on the progress on it and I had to go through an unbelievable amount of red tape. Not to mention the blood magic oaths never to speak of it except to authorized personnel."

If she was hoping for some sign of sympathy, she would have been disappointed as none came from the gathered magicals. Instead, Raven tilted their head some, "Do you know the significance of the name?"

Eyebrows furrowing, Athena nodded, "Of course! What sort of question is that as the Mayflower brought the first pilgrims and European magicals to America." She grimaced a little, "Which makes it worse that the No-Maj managed to summon her as a shipgirl. Can't leave well enough alone."

The magical wearing a bear mask shook their head, "Truly fascinating how shipgirls are summoned..."

Giving Bear a look, Raven was about to comment when one wearing an Owl mask spoke up, "Well, there was the Roanoke Colony, they were the first. Even the first European Magical born in America with Virgina Dare... especially with how she went on to become a white doe animagus."

Clearing their throat, Raven gave them a look as well before turning back to the annoyed Chief of Staff, "Indeed you are right, Madam Laird. The Mayflower did transport some of the first European magicals to America. And so a project bearing the name will help protect the magicals in the new world to come."

A grimace on her face, Magical President Quahog's Chief of Staff grimaced, "The fall of the Statute."

Just nodding, Raven sighed, "The Fall of the Statute of Secrecy."

That brought a scowl to Athena's face as she glared at the assembled masked magicals, "Yes, which all your projects have failed to prevent."

It went without saying that she bristled as Raven gave an unconcerned shrug, "We have tried our best which is all that can be asked. But the methods needed to fully test any new memory spells among other methods is... intensive, to say the least."

Owl spoke up and shook their head, "Especially as we would need to make sure that there are no noticeable side effects that the No-Maj might make note of. There were chances of mental issues appearing later on in life including memory problems within ten years of the application of the spells. Unfortunately, just the chance was enough to sink any testing."

Only sighing, Athena shook her head, "The Senate has too many that want to avoid harming the No-Maj even if that means causing us yet more problems and keeping our world a secret. But that is water under the bridge."

Straightening her back as it was an old argument as she felt that the Statute must be upheld no matter what, she gave them a look. TOTEM, the MACUSA version of the Department Of Mysteries, though under more control by the government than their English brethren, were still secretive. Such as their animal masks that they used among other methods to conceal their identity. Many found them unnerving, and more than a little disturbing at times.

Athena gave them a frown and narrowed her eyes, "That does not answer how Project Mayflower will help MACUSA weather the coming trials."

Despite not being able to see it, the Chief of Staff was certain that Raven had a smirk on their face, "Of course, Madam Laird. If you will follow us..." As she did so, they cleared their throat, "Project Mayflower was started in 1947 with the idea of allowing the government of MACUSA to survive any event that would otherwise destroy it. Such as discovery by the No-Maj with their then brand new nuclear weapons. That was a nasty shock to happen, that they somehow created a weapon capable of destroying an entire city in one shot. And then just a few years later, the Soviets detonated one of their own. There were those that feared perhaps the two sides going to war which would have left the magical community devastated even as collateral." Waving their hand, Raven shrugged slightly, "Of course, there were our own plans in case of a Third World War, same with the Magical Soviets and others. Things that would be just as devastating in some ways."

Lips pressed thinly together, Athena grimaced as she recalled the files and reports she had read about some of MACUSA's "Countermeasures" in case of WWIII. To say that they were downright horrifying would be putting it mildly. There were things that Grindlewald was not willing to mess with that was locked up for a rainy day. She was quite happy to learn that they were deep in Abyssal territory, and even more so that there were plans to get rid of them.

Much less so that it involved summoning their own shipgirls.

Simply deciding to ignore that for now, she frowned some, "So it is some sort of shelter then? Where we can wait out whatever apocalypse occurs? Like one of those No-Maj bunkers then."

Even though she could not see their expressions, Athena knew that the members of TOTEM were amused at her. Not helped as Owl snickered, "Something like that."

Raising an eyebrow, the Chief of Staff didn't get any other response and so turned to Raven who shrugged as they continued to walk, "In a way, you are right. Though I would like to think that we are much better prepared than the No-Maj." Getting a snort from the witch, and understanding it, they waved their hand, "Construction started in 1949, though we had to make sure that a few local tribes of Bigfoot were... relocated elsewhere. One of the first things we did was set down wards."

Slowly, Athena nodded with a slight frown, "Muggle repellant and the like then." At the shake of their heads, she blinked, "Not those type of wards? Then which ones?"

Head tilted to the side, Wolf hummed, "They're not quite modern wards, mainly ones we created on examination of older ones. Ones designed to guard various places such as the Black Hills." Shaking their head, they sighed, "We lost Deer examining some interesting ones in the Black Hills for reverse engineering. It is a place of interest to us after all."

Furrowing her eyebrows, the witch frowned, "Why?"

With a small chuckle, Owl shrugged and she thought that they were grinning behind their mask, "There's things buried there, ancient things that slumber. And so much knowledge to be had from examining them." A snort then escaped them, "Granted, one of the ideas if a Third World War broke out was to crack the protections there and let what sleeps there run amuck before we would seal it back up. But we needed information on them... and we only got some back in the late 1800s when we got a No-Maj prospector to look for gold and such there with some passive magical scanning equipment after using a potion. Told us a lot, same with Deer before they died... both killed by Agent Delilah de Breuil, though the prospector got pretty damn far in before he was killed."

Wolf nodded with a thoughtful noise, "Between the two of them and investigations of other places, we created a new ward scheme." They gestured around them, "For about a hundred miles around Project Mayflower, there's a spell that causes anything that is intelligent to... not go back, but rather go around, the location. It subtly makes the being take certain paths that end up avoiding the area. All of us have talismans that prevent it from effecting us. The region is also mostly muskeg which helps as well."

Chuckling, Raven shook their head, "This path is practically the only safe one to the location. The other wards are sort of an inverse of the ones on the Black Hills and such. Instead of keeping things in, it keeps them out." Shrugging, they turned to look at the witch, "We did not want anyone to know that there was something here. Especially certain parties."

An expression of understanding appeared on Athena's face, "That is why you had me sign those oaths then? So that I would not tell someone and it gets back to the No-Majs."

With a nod, Raven looked at her, "Exactly, Madam Laird. The Winter's Network, for example. We suspect that they might give information to the No-Majs with the fall of the Statute. Likely to curry favour of some sort, and they have penetrated MACUSA pretty throughly. Remember we mentioned Agent Delilah de Breuil?"

Eyes narrowing, the Witch scowled, "She's a member of the Winter's Network?! That..."

Just snorting, Owl shook their head, "She's a member, but low ranking at best. We believe that they use her for a trouble shooter of sorts, which makes a certain amount of sense, and used her mother before her for much the same. A... deniable asset, if you will."

Frowning, Athena gave them a look, "Do you think that is how she became... ageless, as she is?"

That got her a scoff from Raven, "No, the Winter's Network doesn't have that capability. Or else they would have given it to everyone in their group. No, at best she was given a mission and stumbled across it. We have considered examining her, but... too much trouble for what it would be worth."

After a few moments, the Chief of Staff for MACUSA sighed, "A shame that such a seemingly upstanding agent is possibly crooked." Then she shook it off as they reached a small mountain that rose upwards. Eyebrow raised, she followed them to a rock face where they tapped cracks after which, the rock seemingly melts away revealing a short tunnel with an elevator which they get on. After it slowly descends for nearly a minute, Athena gives the TOTEM members a frown, "How long is the ride?"

With a chuckle, Owl rocks back and forth on their heels, "We are nearly a thousand feet down. Besides..." He gestured in time for the elevator to enter a cavern, "We're at the first level."

Boggling at what she is seeing, the witch stared at the massive cavern that seemingly stretched onwards around a bend. The ceiling was enchanted in spots to reveal the sky outside and the floor was green with plant life. There was even a small village that she could see beside a stream, "This... this is incredible..."

Slowly nodding, Raven nodded, "Agreed. What you are seeing is the culmination of nearly seventy years of work. Project Mayflower, the last refuge for magicals in North America come the fall of the Statute of Secrecy. There is a large chance for witch hunts in the aftermath, thus, as soon as the Statute falls, Operation PILGRIM will go into effect. The President, their staff, their families, and three thousand others we have chosen who would be... untroubled by escaping from future No-Maj persecution of magicals, will be brought here to live."

Owl looked around seemingly in thought, "In preparation, we have been stockpiling wands, magical books of knowledge, and ingredients in stasis. Enough to restart magical society after what will come. One of the lower caverns is given over to magical creatures that are useful for various things, one for magical plants and fungi, and one for expansion later. After PILGRIM initiates and everyone is here, we'll activate lockdown."

Not saying a word, Athena out at the cavern before her, 'So this is where I will live out my life after the Fall.' Turning to them, she frowned, "How long will we need to stay down here?"

Glancing at each other, none of the answered until Wolf spoke up, "We are unsure, though a century is the minimum. We believe that it will take that amount of time for the No-Maj to... finish things, assuming that someone in one of the other countries such as Russia does not unleash something in retaliation that quickens the probable collapse. Possibly a war as we believe that once the Abyssals are done for, the No-Maj will turn on the shipgirls as being 'Unnatural'. In any case, after two centuries, we believe that the No-Maj societies will have either collapsed due to environmental effects such as global warming with large disruptions to the climate, or that they will believe magical humanity to be extinct. In any case, we will be able to reinstitute the Statute and go from there."

Softly, Athena muttered to herself as she shook her head, "Two centuries..." With a sigh, she gave a nod, "It must be done, I suppose. For our kind's survival." Turning back, she crossed her arms as she resumed looking over the cavern, "Do you think anyone else may have such a fall back?"

With a shrug, Raven shook their head, "Unknown, though that does not mean anything. Russia, quite certainly would have such a place. Perhaps China as well as India among others. Chances are that they will be found though."

All the Chief of Staff did was nod with a small frown before shaking her head, "Well, show me the rest of our future home..."

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XXIII)

Beirut, Lebanon

March 5th, 1946
Spoiler: Beirut

Delilah walked town the gangplank from the Liberty Ship SS Virginia Dare that had just made port. Scheherazade had arranged a trip captained by 'an old acquaintance of hers' back to Lebanon where Zamarad was apparently staying with her cousins.

Whoever her 'old acquaintance' with that impressive mustache was, he was one hell of a sailor, Delilah mentally added to herself. He even gave Jackie a serious run for her money in terms of skill handling a ship, which Delilah had not believed was possible.

She chuckled at the name of the ship as she reached the bottom of the gangplank and hefted her trunk. To the No-Maj, Virginia Dare was the first English child born in the Americas to her parents in the 'lost colony' of Roanoke Colony. To the Magicals, she was the first magical born to Europeans in the New World, and a noted animagus who took the form of a white doe as she led the now-hidden Croatan Colony.

More relevantly, she had a set of handwritten notes about the ritual to free a Jinn from the object that it had been imprisoned in. Written in the hand which had set down a thousand and one other stories of the magical lands of Arabia.

Delilah's lips quirked as she walked down the wharf. I wonder if Zamarad would mind for our child to be named Virginia once I explain the truth behind the legend to her?

"{Delilah!}" The call caused her to turn and give a warm smile at the sight of Zamarad waving to her from beside a donkey-drawn wagon.

She hurried over and, mindful of the social proprieties, restricted herself to shaking the Ifrit's hand and greeting her traditionally. "{It is good to see you too.}"

The wagon driver helped load her trunk in the back of the wagon and then they took a seat beside it. Delilah raised an eyebrow at the very well hidden Cushioning Charms on the wagon as she took her seat. She automatically placed a headscarf around her head to cover her hair and tapped her wand against her dress, changing its appearance to a long black outer cloak over a long-sleeved dress with a richly embroidered belt. Now apparently a middle-class matron just like Zamarad, she glanced at her love. "{You look well.}"

Zamarad whispered back. "{I am well, but you should be aware that my parents are waiting at my uncle's house. they wish to meet you at long last.}"

Delilah took a deep breath and centered herself as the cart made its way through the streets. Silently she reviewed all the rules of etiquette that she had studied for this moment.

Fakhoury Clan Compound

Deir Qoubel, Lebanon (15 miles south of Beirut)

Presently the cart turned off the dirt road onto a path winding up through the woodland crowning a hill south of the heart of the city. Delilah nodded as she sensed powerful wards woven into the cedar trees and glanced over at the thoughtful form of Zamarad.

She then looked ahead as the cart rounded a bend in the road and her eyes bulged from her head at the sight of the palace where she was being led to.
Spoiler: The Fakhoury Palace

She was not unfamiliar with Old Money from her time in America among the First Families of MACUSA and the No-Maj captains of industry such as the Roosevelts, Carnegies, Rockefellers, Vanderbilts, and others. She had also visited her sister's European castle, and the Potter Manor, both of which belonged to families that were nobility among the Wizarding World with bloodlines and traditions going back centuries.

This, this was on a whole different level.

She reflected that these walls had seen not just the French lay claim to the city below them, but the Ottoman Turks, the Mamlukes, the Arabs, the Byzantines, the Romans, the Greeks and more back into the distant past of prehistory when her own ancestors were mastering simple magics or perhaps raising pigs in what would become Francia. Or, she added with a mental grin as she thought of Father, learning how to forge iron to eventually make Muramasa steel.

Still, nothing for it but to enter the dragon's den, she thought as the sun gilded the waters of the Mediterranean in the distance and illuminated the honey-colored stone of the palace in gold highlights. With a wave of her wand, she restored her traveling dress to her best modest dress that she could manage to magic up, and slid down from the carriage pulled by a pair of cream-colored Arabian stallions that had been transfigured into the apparently humble cart.

Zamarad joined her at her elbow as the door ahead of her opened by unseen hands.

Inside the foyer was a riot of color and patterns. Delilah's eyes widened at the magnificent multicolored tile work. Enthralled she turned to Zamarad, who gave her a reassuring wink and then vanished.
Spoiler: The Genie's Hall

At that Delilah's lips curled in a smug smile.

A test then.

So be it.

She took off her shoes and placed them neatly by the door before sliding on the offered gold-embroidered slippers. She then walked to the center of the pattern on the floor and curtsied in her best form, feeling invisible eyes upon her. "{I thank you for the hospitality that you have shown myself and Zamarad aibnatu Alnaar,}" she spoke in her best Arabic as she waited patiently.

A door to her right opened up and she curtsied to the invisible doorman before proceeding. Inside was a fountain of water leaping from a marble fountain set in an octagonal pool. As she watched, the sunlight through the window illuminated calligraphy in pure gold on the domed roof and walls formed of snow-white marble. Delilah smiled as she translated the inscriptions mentally and sat on the offered rug before the fountain, folding her left leg under her right and then placing her right knee against her chest. Her voice echoed in counterpoint to the laughter of the water. "{The Ninety-nine names of God.}"

She was quite thirsty, of course, but was waiting for explicit permission to drink the water. Silently she blessed her obsessive reading habits as she began to amuse herself by attempting to list all the different sobriquets used in the decorations as an exercise to work on her Arabic literacy.

She was up to Name #47 (Al Barr "The Most Kind and Righteous") when she felt a warm fire at her back. Grinning to herself mentally, she smoothly stood and turned to extend her right hand -- "always use the right hand, Delilah, the left is unclean!" she heard in Zamarad's remembered voice -- to the ageless beautiful woman who had just entered clad in cloth of gold. The dark hair, emerald eyes matching those she knew so well, and the sparkle of silver and emerald at her ears provided the clue that the revolver needed to identify who had come to escort her to the family meeting.
Spoiler: Periezade Fakhoury

"{Peace be upon you, Emira Periezade Fakhoury.}" she spoke with a bow to the Djinni princess who had grown up here.

"{And upon you Peace, Delilah de Breuil,}" was the response as her hand was taken and shook. "{I have heard much of your character and deeds. I am pleased to see that the stories are apparently accurate. Come, join us. Water, food, and hospitality awaits.}"

Delilah smiled, "{My thanks. Ahh, your husband and kinfolk are well?}"

"{They are quite well. Your parents are well?}" Periezade smiled with a flash of ivory teeth as they walked through beautifully decorated halls.

"{My beloved mother is as well as she can be at her venerable age. As Zamarad may have told you, my father was exiled from America and returned to her homeland of Japan. God willing, I shall meet her one day soon, alongside my half-sisters Colombe du Chasteler and Jacklyn Fox.}" Delilah finished with a wry chuckle. "{I am the youngest of three half-sisters you see.}"

Periezade chuckled with a crackle of logs popping. "{I was unaware that you were born by the love shared by two women. That is not normal among the Children of Adam, is it?}"

Delilah shook her head as they reached an ornately carved cedar door. "{Not normally, no, but magic makes many things possible. My father, Muramasa-no-Norimune was a spirit of her sword just as I and my sisters are, so she is magic and I share many of her properties. Hence, if I am allowed to marry Zamarad, I plan to provide you grandchildren to enjoy in good time.}"

Periezade nodded sharply. "{Which is what we shall now discuss. You know the story of my engagement.}"

Delilah squared her shoulders as the door opened. "{I know.}"
Spoiler: Throne Room

The room beyond was large and spacious and ornamented in a mixture of blue and gold. A host of jinn in colorful robes stood to either side of the blue tile work leading up to the twin thrones. One dark-haired jinn sat on the left clad in ornate blue and gold robes, while to his right, a second jinn clad in black velvet with gold embroidery with flaming red hair and red eyes gave her a measuring stare.

Periezade gestured for her to stay at the door and then walked down to bow to her husband and brother. The Djinn gestured and the Emira walked to the throne set to her husband's side of the room.

Delilah squared her shoulders and swallowed as every eye turned to her.

"{Let the Petitioner approach the Court.}"

-------------------------------------
Spoiler: The Price Of A Jinn's Hand

Zamarad watched from her position behind the carved filigree screen hiding her from observation alongside her unmarried female cousins and half-sisters as Delilah walked down the aisle into the watchful silence.

Delilah reached the base of the steps leading up to the throne and curtsied low to the royalty examining her.

"{Delilah Naomi de Breuil, Child of Adam, name your request of us. Name and be judged.}" Rayhan's voice was that of a barely leashed inferno as he measured the steel of the Muramasa standing before him in the flames of his passion.

Only Zamarad caught the well-hidden fear under Delilah's cool and controlled voice. Fear not for herself in the midst of beings who could obliterate her, but fear for the hidden jinn who watched her with emerald eyes. "{Emir Rayhan bin Alnaar. I humbly request your permission to court and to wed your youngest daughter Zamarad aibnatu Alnaar if she will have me after I free her from the ring that enslaves her.}"

A stir ran through the court as the Ifrit's flaming eyes narrowed to molten slits. "{You ask much Child of Earth. Zamarad is beloved by us all.}"

Delilah nodded in agreement. "{Indeed I do, Emir. I ask for the greatest treasure in your realm to pledge my troth to. I have heard the tale of the bride price that you paid in this very hall to be permitted to court her mother.}" Delilah nodded to the intent Periezade. "{I am no Emir of the Children of Fire with ten elephants loaded with the gold of Africa, true. But I value Zamarad equally highly and I shall now demonstrate it!}"

With that Delilah flicked her wand as she levitated a black cushion to float before her. The Muramasa then took a deep breath as she concentrated on the tiara that she had bought with her family fortune. A tiara crafted to hold a legendary flawless emerald that an Egyptian Pharaoh had treasured, a Roman Emperor had displayed, and an Ottoman Sultan had valued.

"Accio Tiara!" Delilah's wand moved in her spell.

Expressions of awe and disbelief ran through the crowd of witnesses and even the assembled royalty as with a flash, the tiara appeared upon the cushion in front of her.

Sunlight sparkled from the diamonds and lesser emeralds set in the glistening platinum, and blazed from the emerald known to the Twelve Tribes of Israel as Bareket.

"{I merely ask as a humble request that my love is allowed to wear a crown that is suitable for her bride-price upon her wedding day, Emir.}" Delilah finished as she knelt before the Emir, Emira, and Sultan with the tiara extended upon the cushion. Zamarad stared at the scene through her flowing tears of joy as her cousins and half-sisters congratulated her for finding such a catch.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Warning: Dark snip ahead.
___________________________________________________________

The elderly woman hummed a bit in the darkened room lit only by candles with narrowed eyes. In the background one could hear almost animalistic grunts and muffled groans hinting at pain. Slowly, the elderly woman nodded, "Yes, almost there... almost there... ah, I can see the head." Pulling out her wand, she waved it around a little before reaching for a towel, not caring about how her arms were covered in blood, "There we go, my lord. All done..."

A shuffle in the darkness made her glance at the shadowed form that was standing to the side, "Truly? My lord?"

For a few moments there was silence before there was a sibilant hiss, "Yes... it is done."

Chuckling, the woman just bowed a little as she used the towel, "As I promised, my lord. After all, I have many decades and this was not my first birth."

The shadowed figure gave a nod, "Indeed, you have done a splendid job, madam. First rate."

Once more, the sibilant voice spoke up, "Quite, very well done. One deserving of a proper reward."

Lips twitching as she set the bundle aside, the woman bowed again, "Thank you, it pleases me that. Though I ask for little you understand. Just that you continue the old ways..." She sneered a little, "And kill some of those animals that call themselves human when they don't have a drop of magic in their blood. One of them, an American, killed my son during the war."

Dark chuckles echoed through the room before the hissing voice came back, "Of course, of course. You can be certain that will happen, my good lady. Brandon, please escort her and give her the proper amount of payment."

Yet again, the woman bowed before a man in a cloak lead her out of the room and down the hall. Inside the bundle, two red eyes looked out, practically glowing in hate as they moved revealing something that could have been an... infant, perhaps. But was not as it lacked a nose and the skin was the white of a corpse. Everything about it just screamed that it was wrong and should not exist.

From the shadows, a giant snake came out and helped the infant prop itself up as it hissed at said being before it ran one hand, which resembled a spider in a way, down the scales of the serpent, "Thank you, my pet." Both ignored a green flash and the sound of a body hitting the ground as the infant coughed some before chuckling at a hiss from the snake, "No, no, she is much too bony and her meat is stringy for you my dear Nagini."

Hearing a whimper, both of them turned and looked at the female form that laid in a ritual circle. Neither of them cared much about the slowly spreading pool of crimson that slowly erased the signs of the circle and the symbols around it. Granted, the woman in the circle did not seem to do much other than give the odd whimper, sounding more animal than anything else.

Within the red eyes set in the infant's face, there was not an ounce of concern within the gaze it had. Instead, he held out a hand, "Peter, make yourself useful... give me my wand."

Quickly, a rat faced man scrambled out from the corner where it had been hiding and bowed several times, "O-of course, my lord! I have it right here!" Reaching into the cloak he wore, Peter pulled out a wand, polished and clean, "H-here you are."

Gently taking it, the infant gave a soft sigh, "Thank you Peter... Crucio!" For a few moments, Pettigrew screamed and writhed at the pain coursing through his body before it cut off. Ignoring the sobbing man, the creature hummed, "Yes... everything seems to work well. Peter, go and help Brandon and make yourself useful." Hearing a hiss, it chuckled, "No, Nagini, there's no need for you to risk indigestion... yet."

Terror in his eyes, Peter took off, "O-of course, my lord! I shall g-go now un-until you have need for me once more."

Simply waiting until he was gone, the creature turned towards the woman and hummed as using it's wand, the woman was lifted into a sitting position, "I suppose that leaves you, my dear. Though not for long as the strain placed on your body will kill you fairly soon. Even now, your organs and body are failing. I am told that it is a fairly agonising process." A humour filled chuckle escaped from the being before it shook it's head, "But then... you don't understand a word at all which I am saying, do you?"

Across from the creature, the woman just stared sightlessly ahead with eyes glassy, yet empty of the light that marked a thinking mind. Drool slowly dripped from the corner of her mouth which once upon a time spoke words, but now only the odd whimper and groan created unconciously as there was no intelligence left to direct such sounds. If not for the magic holding her upright, she would have flopped back.

Yet, the whole time the thing just watched her in dispassionate interest. Fingering it's wand, it made a few mutters and motioned with the magical instrument before smiling, "I would say rejoice, but... it would be wasted on you. Just know that through you, Lord Voldemort has once more entered the world. And my rebirth will be granted to me fully with the information that you once had. Now, I shall repay you with mercy even as you make me truly immortal, Madam Jorkins... Avada Kedavra!"

Moments later, the light struck the woman and she stopped breathing entirely as did her heart moments before Voldemort screamed in agony.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Thousands of miles away, in Britain, Harry woke with a shout of pain and horror as he writhed on the bed as it felt like every nerve was on fire and there was a sort of echo of a tearing sensation. He knew that it was not him however, and instead he sat up in bed before rushing for the bathroom. The thirteen year old just barely reached the toilet in time before he started to spew what was left of his previous day's meal into the bowl. Body twitching, Harry kneeled there with bile dripping off his chin as tremours caused by phantom pains raced through his body.

It took him a few minutes before he shakingly got to his feet and walked over to the sink, rinsing out his mouth and spitting it out.

Already, the dream was fading, but he forced himself back to his bed before grabbing his dream diary. And, in a shaking hand, he wrote down what he had seen and experienced. Part of his mind was thankful that he used a pen, as a quill would have torn the paper and a pencil would have broken. By the time he was done, there was only the bare haze in his mind of what he had seen, but for some reason he still felt horror deep inside himself. As well as an odd feeling of thankfulness that he did not remember what he had seen and heard clearly.

Sitting there with his back against the side of his bed, Harry shivered as the sheen of cold sweat he was covered in, and which soaked his clothed, chilled him in the darkness. He was so out of it that he did not hear the near silent sound of wingbeats in the night. Nor did the thirteen year old hear the Owl Box open, close, and a minute or two later reopen.

What he did notice was two pairs of arms on either side as they embraced him.

Just blinking a little, he turned to find Shiromizu on one side and, on the other, Hedwig in her humanoid form. Gently, the Mizuchi stroked his head, "Otouto... it's fine... it's all fine."

Tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, Harry swallowed, "N-no, I don't think that it is..."

Noticing the diary in his hand, the water spirit took it and read the words. Her eyes widened and her face paled a little before she closed her eyes to control her reaction. Instead, she closed it and set it back in the drawer that it had come from and went back to hugging Harry, "Shhh... shhh... it's fine, Otouto. You're here and safe... perfectly safe."

Harry leaned against her shoulder as he nodded, "Y-yeah... it was just a dream. A really bad dream."

Said words sounding like he was trying to convince himself was not commented by any of those there.

Instead, Hedwig and Shiromizu lifted him up gently before placing him back into the bed. Frowning at the sweat drenched sheets, the young Mizuchi formed a ball of water in her hand and let it spread out over the sheets. Then, she motioned with her finger and the water flowed in a stream towards the nearby bathroom and they could hear a splash as it entered the toilet. Looking down at the now dry and clean blankets, Harry gave a weak chuckle, "Well... that's useful."

Lips curling into a smile, the Mizuchi nodded, "Hai, you have no idea." Bringing her hand up, she placed it against his head and water dripped down, flowing across his body and clothes before gathering into a ball at his feet. All of the sweat gone and his skin as well as clothes dry and warm. With another flick of her finger, the water orb shot off into the bathroom and another splash told them where it had gone, "There, all clean."

Just nodding, Harry sighed a little as he felt tiredness grab hold of him, "Thank you, Nee-San."

Gently, Shiromizu kissed his brow, ignoring the fact that besides the sweat there had been a slight amount of blood on his brow, "You're very welcome." Coiling herself around him protectively, she stroked his head, "Just rest for now. Tomorrow, you'll be coming home after all."

On his otherside, Hedwig extended a wing which covered her master protectively, "Aye, Harry-Wizard. Do not let such things bother your sleep, for we shall guard you."

With a muttered thank you, the protectiveness and warmth from the two soon sent him back to sleep. And Harry never knew, nor did Hedwig comment on how Shiromizu had tears dripping down her cheek as she held him close. Nor did Shiromizu comment on the look in the transformed owl's eyes, or how her eyes were suspiciously wet as well.

Because they understood...

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XXIV)

Beirut, Lebanon

March 5th, 1946
Spoiler: A Discussion Over Coffee

Delilah gave a smile and a nod at the sight of Zamarad entering the small chamber that she had been escorted to after her audience. Sitting in a semicircle around a argilah water pipe, she sat on a cushioned divan and took a small hit of the lemon-flavored tobacco. Remembering her lessons, she neatly folded the hose upon itself and set it back on the small table, making sure to point the gilded mouthpiece toward the bubbling water pipe.

The Ifrit princess had a silver tray with small handleless finjān coffee cups and rolled date treats in one hand and the other carried a gold dallah coffee pot. Delilah's smile grew. "Ahh, qahwah sādah! Zamarad has introduced me to the pleasure of a properly roasted Arabicia bean."

Rayhan breathed out a stream of smoke and nodded. "She has done well in teaching you properly. I confess that I was concerned when I received word from her that she was interested in a Christian, and one from the Americas."

Delilah smiled and accepted several date rolls and then a cup of mirra coffee. "Understandable. Fortunately my sisters and mother have taught me to have an open mind when it comes to other cultures. And in this case it serves me well both personally and professionally."

She sipped the coffee, raising an eyebrow slightly at the taste of salt in the coffee. Now why... ahh, a traditional test of a prospective bridegroom. If the groom gets upset with the salt, he demonstrates his unfitness in temperament. Besides it was no worse than the jet black crime against nature that Jacklyn brewed for the around the world cruise to keep us awake going round the Horn. She smiled and continued, "Professionally, as you are no doubt aware, the extant colonial authorities are not what they were before the war. The British expended much in the way of their strength to defeat Grindelwald and Hitler and the French are even worse off and are trying to regain their empire."

Nods from Rayhan, Periezade, and Sultan Muhammad Fakhoury answered her statement as she continued. "This poses problems since the new powers will either be local, or outside the region with less in the way of understandings and quiet agreements with those of us who watch over things that should not be meddled with. The saying about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread applies here, and both Magical Russia after the Communist Revolution and MACUSA are fools indeed with little in the way of perspective involving questions that should not be answered and locations that should not be meddled with. Zamarad has mentioned my own responsibilities in the Dakotas in broad terms, yes?"

Muhammad blew out a smoke ring. "Yes, in the broad strokes. She was surprised that no jinn were managing what you protect."

Delilah nodded for a refill on her coffee, which she held in her hands for Zamarad to fill. "For whatever reason, the jinn never have come to the Americas, so alternate mechanisms were in place to handle certain inimical spirits, sites of power, artifacts and so on. Mechanisms that the Lakota handed over to me and through me to MACUSA seventy years prior to fill in my responsibilities in specific, since it was clear that they would lose to the expansion of us pale-faces before too much longer. Discussions with Zamarad and Colombe have made me realize that a similar situation might exist here if and when MACUSA starts to play the Great Game to step into any power vacuum that develops. Unfortunately, MACUSA will be meddling outside our shores thanks to the impact of the sneak attack by the Japanese Kamo government blowing up the traditional policy of extreme isolationism."

Delilah sipped her coffee and then nibbled a date roll. "Which is why I made arrangements to have a position of influence and leverage in MACUSA's activities in the Middle East. Hopefully I can keep us from making any bad situations worse and work with you and others to keep any fires contained. This also puts Zamarad on the payroll of MACUSA as an agent, and with your permission, I'll use her as my point person here since she both knows what is what and also is sworn to secrecy with matters that humans like me really have no need to know or meddle with."

Rayhan glanced at his wife and then nodded. "That is acceptable. We can spare her to travel to trouble spots."

Delilah gave Zamarad a smile as the Ifrit headed for her now empty cup. "{Daymen.}" Zamarad nodded and poured half a cup at the words and then gave her father a refill next since Delilah was satisfied with her coffee. "Good. Personally, while I plan to live with Zamarad in the States, I have no objections to her and I making visits to here or family visits to see us, responsibilities permitting of course. I have quite a few responsibilities Stateside between my guardianship of the Black Hills and helping Mother that I must tend to, though. That said, I do intend to ask Zamarad for an engagement and court her once she has the unshackled free will to answer my question with no implicit coercion. I want her answer to be what she truly thinks rather than what I wish to hear."

Rayhan rumbled a laugh with a sound like logs splintering in a flame. "A rarity among the Children of Adam, especially ones that have a beautiful jinn maiden in their thrall, I can assure you. We had... concerns... about such, which we now see were ill-founded."

Delilah nibbled a date. "Understandable. She mentioned that I have extreme hatred toward slavery in all its forms, yes?" Delilah's voice was heated under the control as the jinn all nodded. "Hence my trying my best -- despite extreme temptation -- to do the right thing for her. The problem is even when I ask her hand, and if she accepts, I can't marry her openly in MACUSA. The No-maj have issues accepting the idea of two women having a romantic relationship, and while magical culture is more liberal than that, there is prejudice against foreigners among the upper crust of society which I have to navigate. I'm trying to push needed changes in that, but it is quite slow and delicate work." Delilah sighed deeply. "Which is a damn shame, since she deserves a proper marriage and I cannot give her one for decades at best, maybe never."

Periezade spoke up for the first time as she leaned forward on her divan. "Oh, have no worries on that count. I am certain my husband and brother will give her a wedding that will be the talk of society for centuries to come." Both the male jinn winced at the fire in her words. "And I can assure you that after your display today, Delilah, that there will be no tongues wagging where I or my family can hear them about your 'unworthiness' to wed a Child of Fire, Delilah Naomi de Breuil. But such will be a matter of planning and preparation."

Delilah chuckled at the clear statement of intent from her future mother-in-law. "Oh quite. I take it that you would have no objection to my family supplying a variety of American woods for the wedding feast to supplement your own efforts?"

The four jinn laughed. "Oh, not in the least!"

Delilah grinned smugly. "Good. As for my escorts, it would be myself, my mother, my half sisters Jacklyn and Colombe, and my father Norimune... perhaps." Delilah's face fell. "Father and mother had a bad falling out shortly before I was born and Norimune was exiled to Japan from MACUSA when I was a young girl. So that will be tricky. Although if I can manage it, I want her to be there." Delilah finished in a somewhat choked voice.

Zamarad spoke quietly. "Lyra Potter as well."

Delilah nodded. "Yes, Lyra definitely. All of these are people whom I trust to keep their mouths shut about me getting married. As for the rest, well I leave the guest list for the bride, bridesmaids, and so on in your hands." Delilah finished by draining her coffee cup.

She then glanced at Zamarad and winked, putting her now emptied cup on the table. Her lips curled in a smug smirk at her planned action.

Rayhan laughed. "You know that by tradition you must now either fill that cup with gold, marry my child serving the mirra, or finance the wedding of Zamarad, honored guest."

Delilah's smug smirk widened as she touched the coffee cup with a finger. "I choose the second option that tradition allows. Should she accept my courtship, I shall marry Zamarad."

Zamarad blushed behind her veil as her father nodded. "I take it you have a mechanism to allow Zamarad to travel back and forth across the oceans?"

Delilah smirked troumphantly. "I do. We have developed what is known as an Owl Box, which is a pair of linked and enchanted boxes. An object placed in one when the lid is closed appears in the other across great distances nearly instantly. Zamarad can use that to travel as a spirit of flame, and in my case," Delilah took a very deep breath, "I am the spirit of my revolver. The 'me' who is enjoying your hospitality is an avatar, a projection from my true body here."

She removed her true body butt-first and placed it on the table next to the coffee cup as the jinn curiously examined it. "So if that is placed inside the box, I get transported across the distances. I would prefer this information goes no further, since my enemies inside and outside MACUSA can use that information to destroy me."

Rayhan spoke solemnly. "You have our word of honor in such matters, Delilah Naomi de Breuil." The other two nodded in agreement.

"Thank you all." Delilah said gratefully as she reholstered herself.

 

[darthcourt10]

mikelima777

HMCS Severn, Off Haida Gawaii.

The Captain drank from his trusty mug as he sat in his chair reading a status report from his chief engineer. It always fascinated him how technology and magic could work together. For instance, the boilers were charmed for improved power output and corrosion resistance, while the turbines had wards to reduce friction and wear and tear. The forward 3-inch gun mount was enhanced to the point it could sustain the original maximum rate of fire of 20 rounds per minute and could fire a variety of rounds including magically enhanced munitions.

"Maintain course,"

"Maintain course, aye."

He nodded at the Petty Officer working at the helm before turning his eyes to the ship sailing ahead and starboard of the Severn. One of the oldest active vessels in the Canadian Magical Navy, the ship in question was of World War II vintage, rebuilt after the war.

The old destroyer escort had, in fact, started out in life as an M-class destroyer built for the Royal Navy, though no records of such ship had existed. However, it saw extensive service in World War II, fighting an enemy hidden in secrecy and statutes. Her part in the war ultimately ended in dramatic fashion.

After deploying troops on D-Day, a 30.5 cm shell from a German coastal defence gun apparently struck the ship, causing what the few eyewitnesses claimed was a massive explosion. The only debris found by British Wizards was a 6 square inch piece, as well as the remains of a sailor. Those who landed from the destroyer had assumed the ship was lost, aside from a few who were privy to the truth.

Some conspiracy theorists in the Wizarding World would say the ship went on a series of misadventures, with wild outrageous stories of encounters with demons, or other bizzare creatures. Such stories were nothing like what actually happened.

In reality, several things occurred in quick succession. As soon as the ship was struck, an experimental portkey activated. This portkey was designed by a brilliant expert in Charms to evacuate a crippled ship back to homeport and hopefully save the surviving crew. However, as it powered up, a fragment from the german shell struck the alchemical-based propulsion systems, releasing fiendfyre that gutted a good portion of the ship. The fiendfyre also played havoc on the portkey, and changed the destination. The ship disappared in a massive pop, which when combined with the raging inferno, gave the illusion of a catastrophic detonation.

In a remote part of Canada, the ship reappeared, still aflame. However, to the relief of the surviving crew, the emergency extinguisher systems activated, ending the uncontrolled flames. Despite this, the ship was dead in the water. It was rather fortunate then that the ship had arrived near a remote village of Canadian Magicals, where a protege of a certain RCMMP tsukumokami rapidly flooed in for help from the Canadian MoM. The people of the village provided shelter, medical care, and food to the survivors as they waited for help. Within two days, the Magical frigate HMCS Ontarian arrived to tow the crippled destroyer to HMC Dockyard Erebus, the primary base of the Canadian Magical Navy.

There had been a debate on whether to scrap the badly damaged destroyer, but the Canadian Ministry of Magic decided to repair the ship, and prepare it for possible service in the Pacific. The superstructure had to be rebuilt along with most of the engineering systems, while a handful of AA mounts were also installed. However, by the time the ship was ready to return to service, Emperor Showa saw the writing on the wall and agreed to have the Empire of Japan surrender unconditionally.

Once again the fate of the ship was up in the air, as the British MoM had returned to isolationism and already declared the ship as lost. After some quiet negotiations, the ship was handed over to the Canadian Magical Navy, which soon put it on patrols during the early years of the cold war.

In the late 50s and early 60s, out of a need to upgrade the warship for the post-war era, and to reduce the chance of a Statute Breach, the ship went into refit once more, this time being fitted into a destroyer escort, similar to what the nomaj Canadians had done for HMCS Crescent and HMCS Crusader.

Despite her infamous wartime service, crew members aboard the ship believed the ship was content with her relatively boring service post-war. The crew of HMCS Merlin, DDE 226π, were proud of their ship and her continued service for Canada.

Author Note: I want to credit Yellowhammer for giving me permission to write the above. Do not tempt me to delete this bit.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Upon hearing a knock at his office door, Remus looked up from where he was packing various items away as it was the last day of school, 'Wonder who that could be...'

Taking a sniff, he raised an eyebrow at the scent which by now was familiar. Granted, he still was not sure what to think about some changes he had noticed over the last couple of months. As a werewolf, he always had enhanced senses. Nothing truly spectacular, mind you, but still better than most. Slightly better sense of smell and hearing for example. From his talks with Lily, his senses as a werewolf had been pushed to the upper limit of human capabilities. Same with his strength and speed, which Lily after some research had determined were at the upper end of Olympic athlete level.

Of course, his physiology also meant that he healed fast as well unless the wound was caused by silver or dark magic... such as another were's claws and fangs. Not as fast as in some movies that non-magicals had, granted. But he once broke his leg in a fight and spent five days in a bolt hole hiding from Death Eaters in Ireland. By the end of that, his leg was healed and no longer broken. Another time, he had been shot by an Imperioused non-magical policeman in the chest, with the bullet going through his liver. Something that even without magic he healed from in a matter of days and that at the time meant he ignored the wound to wrestle the man to the ground.

It had fascinated her to no end which lead to annoying tests she had done such as hours on a treadmill or attempting to identify flowers by their scents.

However, up until recently, all his abilities outside of healing were within human norms for the most part, if at the upper end. It was only during the days of the Full Moon that everything got boosted further. Which is what made him wonder since, as of a few months before, that boost had kept past the Full Moon. And he knew that the students and such at his school also had noticed such. Something that made him wonder...

Remus shook those thoughts off, placing them into the back of his mind before he cleared his throat and called out towards his waiting visitor, "The door's unlocked, Harry. You can come in if you want."

Moments later, said thirteen year old opened the door and walked in with a smile, "Good morning, Uncle Moony."

Lightly chuckling, Remus gave him a look before glancing at the clock, "Shouldn't you be getting ready to head out? Or getting breakfast? After all, the train leaves in two hours."

With a small shrug, Harry grinned, "Already packed all my stuff last night actually. And already had some breakfast earlier." Glancing around as he walked further into the room, he noted that all the posters and various items were gone, "Not coming back?"

Shaking his head, the Were snorted some, "And risk the curse? Not bloody likely." He then stood straight and cracked his back a little, "Besides, I've got a school of my own to look after."

Not saying anything right away, Harry gave a hum, "True, though you might be getting a small amount of money donated to it." Ignoring the frown on the older man's face, he changed the subject, "Still, a bit of a shame since we learned the most from you that we have on the last three years. What with everything that has happened."

Briefly, Remus considered the rumours and what he had been told before grimacing. If there was even a small kernel, and he suspected that it was more than just a small one, he was not surprised in the slightest. However, he gave Harry a smirk, "Well, as I said, this was temporary from the start. Besides which? Snape would get annoyed and I'm already lucky that he has not found some way to spill my secret."

The thirteen year old nodded a bit with a small sigh, "Yeah, I suppose so." Harry then smiled slightly as a thought occurred to him, "I guess that we should meet up outside of school. That way you can tell me embarrassing and mortifying stories about my parents as well as get me all embarrassed about them."

Unable to help himself, Remus laughed at that, "You know? I would like that, though I can't help but think that you have another reason for it."

With a small shrug, Harry hummed a bit, "Well, I have a number of nieces that are single, you know? Like Sunny." Seeing the stunned look, he raised his hands, "Or Tanith... granted, I could set you up with some of the others... like Ritou! I can imagine you as a wolf with your head on her lap as she strokes it."

Very slowly, the older man turned and looked at him, "... You're joking..."

Later, when the conversation was talked about, Remus claimed he did not whine. And that he does not whine at such things and sound like a little kid not wanting to do chores. He is a grown man after all and above such things... though he did blush a little at the memory of what said female beings looked like... and how little clothes they wore.

All the while cursing his inner wolf which was panting a little.

Meanwhile, Harry frowned at him and crossed his arms over his chest, "What's wrong with them?"

Quickly, Remus waved his hands in the air, "Nothing, absolutely nothing at all, Harry. They're beautiful women after all, just... uh... I'm not interested in that sort of thing. Right now, I mean."

Frowning, the teenage wizard continued to stare at him in thought, "Hmm but according to my Mum's and Dad's journals, they mentioned that you needed a good girlfriend. Though I suppose that there is Ruby..."

Confused, though somewhat annoyed at the memory of Lily and James attempting to matchmake him and it still happening despite them being dead for over a decade, Remus frowned, "Ruby?"

With a nod, Harry blinked, "She's a Harbour Demon. Looks a lot like Big Sister Wanko, except her claws are flesh. Has a bit of trouble getting dates due to sounding like a little girl for some reason..." He then frowned again at Remus, "Are you sure that you don't need a girlfriend? I mean, Uncle Sirius has one, Mum and Dad married and stuff..."

Twitch in his forehead, the werewolf nodded, "I'm positive."

Said twitch grew as Harry muttered to himself, "Maybe later then..." After a few seconds, the teen shrugged and turned back to the older man, "Um, right, I was wondering if it was possible that you might visit Yokosuka sometime? Or if we could meet up and you could tell me about my parents?"

Remus crossed his arms as he considered it as he also remembered small chats he had with the thirteen year old about his parents. It... hurt, a little, to remember what had happened and to be the one to tell him about his parents. At the same time there, there was also a... happy feeling at remembering those times and telling him. Slowly, Remus gave a nod and a chuckle, "Sure thing, Harry. If I can find a way to Japan, then I would not mind at all. Or maybe at times you're back in Britain. Lily and James would appreciate that."

At that, Harry just nodded before humming, "Though... if you come to Yokosuka, you could try some of the bars. They might have a good Campari and Soda... but you could settle for a Guinness as well."

For several moments, the werewolf stared at him before sighing with an amused tilt to his lips, "Harry, you are most definitely Lily's son. Your Mum used to order that for me when the bunch of us went to a bar."

All Harry did was laugh before walking over and hugging the older man, who returned it happily.
___________________________________________________________

Leaning against the windowsill, Harry looked out the window in deep thought at the British countryside that was rushing past as the Hogwarts Express made it's way to London. Around his neck, Shiromizu dozed a little while Ron's new owl, hyperactive little thing it was, rapidly flew around the cabin. Oftentimes getting an annoyed look from Hedwig while Crookshanks watched in amusement.

Most of the train was mostly those students talking and saying goodbye to each other before Summer Break. After all, they would not see many of them until the next year. It was a time for friends and such to talk one last time before going home. And in other compartments one could find couples together. Some of them being teary eyed at their coming separation from each other... and such people were not all girls either.

Currently in their cabin though, Ron was telling the others about something that he had overheard from Ginny, "... So, apparently Amisi found out about the sort of ritual that the Seventh Years undergo when they leave Hogwarts the last time. You know what that is, right?"

Eyebrow raised, Hermione looked up from her book with a slight frown, "Ritual? You mean how the Seventh Years leave the school via the boats, right? Like how they arrived at the school the first time, but in reverse?"

Giving a nod, the redhead shuffled a little bit of the lap desk he had and was drawing something on, "Yeah, there's a bunch of symbolism and stuff tied up in it."

Neville gave a nod as he bit into a cauldron cake, "Um, right, Gran told me about that." Seeing that everyone was looking at him, he gave a small shrug, "Well... when you arrive as First Years, it is by boat in the evening, right?"

Both Hermione and Ron nodded as did Harry, the former two talking at the same time, "Right."

Motioning with a hand, the Longbottom Scion frowned a little, "And when you leave with your Seventh Year done, you move across the lake by boat in the morning. With the first years, it represents leaving your childhood behind with the Sun setting on it and it's evening beginning. The lake represents the gulf between your childhood and the years to come. Dark, mysterious, and a little scary. And when you leave after Seventh Year? You do so in the morning which, well... represents that your adulthood has now begun and that you are leaving your years in Hogwarts behind, crossing a gulf once more. But this time, it is lit and clear for the most part. Not so frightening anymore."

For a few moments, everyone was quiet as they digested that. Once he gave it some thought, Ron nodded a little, "That... makes a lot of sense."

Eyebrows furrowing, Hermione gave him a look, "That's not mentioned in Hogwarts: A History though."

With a small shrug, Neville shook his head, "Well, it is a history book. Does it really go much into other traditions and their backgrounds?"

The Light Cruiser considered that before simply making a sound of agreement. Hermione then turned towards Ron who was taking a bite of a sandwich, "So what happened with Percy and Amisi?"

Swallowing his sandwich and taking a sip of tea from his thermos, Ron waited a few seconds before snorting, "Well, Amisi apparently offered to summon herself to give her Pharaoh a proper ride across the lake. It turned into a bit of an disagreement between them, but... she accepted it. Though that meant he had a boat mostly to himself as she sat in his lap the whole way across."

Various snorts and snickers came from that bit of information. Though Neville remembered something, "Wait... does Percy have a job lined up?"

Making a note on the sheet of parchment in front of him, Ron gave a nod, "He's actually joining the Ministry." At the looks of disbelief, the Weasley shrugged, "I know, a bit bonkers that. But he figures that he could get in on the ground floor for when the Non-Magical government takes over as someone who knows what is going on, but has not been there long enough to be problematic. Lots of opportunities he thinks."

Only shaking her head, Hermione sighed and was about to say something when she paused and looked over towards the only human occupant who had not said anything, "Harry? Is something wrong?"

Blinking, Harry turned towards her, "Hmm? Not really wrong l, just..." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, "I... think that it's begun."

With a glance towards the others, Neville frowned, "Begun? What has begun?"

Grimacing, the messy haired thirteen year old wizard looked out the window, "The final collapse."

That brought a wince from Ron, "Is... this about what is going on with Germany?"

Needless to say, that caught the line shipgirl's attention very quick, "Germany? What about Germany, Ronald?" At his shifting, she narrowed her eyes, "What is going on now?"

Neville blinked at that with a frown on his face, "Hermione, didn't you read the Daily Prophet today? They had it on the front page..."

A frown on her face, Hermione looked between them, "No? I've been meaning to read it, but was caught up in other things instead. Such as... some stuff with Professor McGonagall. Did something happen besides them seceding from the ICW?"

Looking at Neville, Ron shook his head, "With Germany? Not really? I mean, since they left the ICW they've been very quiet. Isolationist really... but that's made a lot of people nervous that they could be planning, um... the Third Great Magical European Dustup if you will. The ICW has been meeting nearly non-stop since they did it to try and figure out what to do next while, well..."

It was Neville who continued, "The Magical Ministries of Belgium and the Netherlands have decided that they're taking no chances and... have started to position their forces along the German border. Rumour has it that they have been threatening a pre-emptive invasion of Germany if the ICW doesn't do it. Poland is also positioning their forces as well on their side of the border."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione took a deep breath, "Are... are you telling me that we might well have an invasion of Germany by the Low Countries sometime soon? Is... is that correct?"

With a glance towards Neville, the redheaded wizard nodded with a shrug, "Apparently? They don't want to be invaded again with the fighting on their soil, so... yeah?"

The sound of steel hitting steel as well as flesh meeting flesh could be heard as Hermione's hands renewed their romance with her face. About to comment, Harry paused before frowning as he looked at the window, 'Did I hear someone in what sounded like a French accent shout that it was not their fault...?' Shaking that off, he ignored the muttering from Hermione and shook his head, "Um, well that was not what I quite meant actually." At their looks of interest, the thirteen year old scratched the back of his head, "It's what is happening back home right now. The final death spiral of the Tokyo Magical Diet has begun there."

Concerned, a feeling shared by her other two friends, the Light Cruiser frowned, "What happened, Harry? And how bad?"

For a few seconds, Harry did not say anything before letting out a breath, "Okay... you know how there was that big battle in Tsushima Strait a few weeks back, right?" At their nods, he continued, "Well, there was some damage to the island itself from it. Some people were actually killed on the magical side. But... the thing was that the Diet didn't send anyone there to help until fifteen hours had passed, while Kyoto was there within minutes even as the fighting was happening. Even sent Healers there... Well, as of two days ago, Tsushima, Iki Island, and Fukuoka Prefecture declared independence from Tokyo and that they were fully throwing in their hat with Kyoto, followed by Nagasaki Prefecture as a whole the next day alongside Okinawa and the Ryukyu Islands. The only one of the Ryukyu Islands still in the Diet's control is the Yokai Reserve. They figure that the Izu Islands will declare for Kyoto sometime today or tomorrow along with the Bonins... though that goes without saying what with Mahoutokoro under Kyoto's control as it is."

No one said anything for a few moments before Neville spoke up, "Mate... what... what does that mean? And what happens next?"

Letting out a breath, Harry shook his head, "I don't know, Neville. But... with Fukuoka and Nagasaki Prefectures now under Kyoto's control? Alongside Tsushima and Iki not to mention the Ryukyu Islands? That is some of the major ports into and out of the country right there. I would not be surprised if the rest if Kyushu follows within a matter of weeks, a month or two at most. With the Izu Islands? There's a chance that Shizuoka and Kanagawa Prefectures will follow. After that... it all depends on how the Diet responds. If they try and use force, it will get very messy, very quickly. If they don't... other places will join Kyoto. I'm betting on Hokkaido next after Kyushu."

The others glanced at each other and had the exact same thought, 'This... is a mess.'

Noticing Harry's expression, Hermione gave him an understanding smile, "Harry? I wouldn't worry too much about it. I'm sure that people are working on it back in Japan."

Harry just nodded at that and soon was drawn into other conversations.

All too soon, as the Sun touched hovered above the horizon, the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform 9 3/4. Walking out, Harry grinned at seeing Nagato as well as Hoppou, Kitakami, and Ooi. Almost as soon as he reached him, he was swept up into a hug by the brown haired Torpedo Cruiser, "Hey there, Otouto! Ready to head home?"

Hugging her back, the thirteen year old nodded, "Hai, I am. It has been... an eventful year, Ooi-Nee."

Once he was let go, he turned and gave Nagato a hug as well as Hopppu. Soon, the group was leaving the hidden platform and an hour later found Harry softly sighing as he looked out onto Yokosuka. Slowly, he gave a happy little nod.

He was home.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord Khuzdul

Yellowhammer said:
Nice to see that Enver's Coldest Fuckup did not wind up eating the local city raw.​

Funny you should say that...

---

Date: May… something or other. Year: It has been far too long.

Location: Allahuekber Mountains

I feel it is the supreme irony that I am back at the site of the first betrayal I suffered… in the country that still reveres my greatest betrayer.

At least I have my army back.

I have no idea what happened. One moment, I was in Turkestan, charging against a Russian position. The next, I am lying in a forest clearing, my hands looking half-rotten, with some dark eyed Arab sitting across from me. He smirked at me, then disappeared into thin air, leaving behind a smell of sulfur. Then my soldiers came. And asked for my orders.

It feels so good to be back to commanding an army. Even if it is in this God forsaken, frozen hellhole, that does nothing but remind me of betrayal after betrayal. Still, this time traitors cannot take my army from me. Kemal… I read that they built a big tomb to that traitor. "Atatürk" they call him! Bastards! Traitors! What does he have to deserve that title! I should have had that title! I am the one who sacrificed everything for them, and they consider him, that weak-willed traitor their idol!

Well, once we deal with whatever they have around here, I know where I am marching. Whispers keep telling me to go south, but no! First… that edifice in Ankara! Then… then those Soviet bastards! Another sign of treachery. They yanked me around for months, while they propped up Kemal. Godless bastards! They are next. Then… and only then… maybe… Well, Arabs, they are traitors as well.

I have my army now. And what an army. This time, there will be no betrayal.

I just wish it wasn't so fucking cold.

Commander in Chief of All the Armies of Islam, Son-in-Law of the Caliph and Representative of the Prophet, Hero of the Revolution, Savior of the Nation, Emir of Turkestan, Müşir İsmail Enver

---

As Ali sat down, a beeping made Schehrazade look down into her phone. "Well, this is interesting. A maintenance crew discovered this morning that the grave monument in the Abide-i Hürriyet Park was desecrated. Who would want to desecrate…" Her eyes shot up and met Ali's horrified eyes.

The rifle just closed his eyes as if in pain and swore viciously, prompting Sinbad to reflexively cover the ears of the destroyer next to him. Korkut covered his eyes with his palm, while Hızır looked up at the heavens in a silent question.
Spoiler: Author's Note
I am stating this officially. Trying to get into Enver's headspace is fucking cancer. It took me a week to push this abortion of a piece out, and even now I hate it. Well, the rest should flow easier. I am committed to finishing the meeting and get a good headstart into Sarıkamış tonight.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Semper Fidelis Memorial Park, National Museum of the Marine Corps, Quantico Virginia.

A Meeting In The Woods
Spoiler: A Meeting Among Old Friends

FBI Special Agent Alondra David parked her car and got out. To her right the bulk of the museum stood. Absently adjusting her red US Marine Corps-Retired polo shirt tucked into her tan slacks, she walked toward the park's monuments. She ignored the late-spring rainfall dripping from the trees as she walked through the wooded park, her attention flickering to see if she was observed. Finally, she checked her chronometer as she reached the monument to Marine working dogs, and then took a seat on the bench under the gently swaying boughs of the trees..

Three minutes early. Perfect.

With that thought, she pulled out a bag of unsalted shelled peanuts and began to toss them to the squirrels chattering from the woods around her.

Presently a second young-seeming woman walked up the path.

Automatically Alondra gave her the once-over.

Chestnut-red hair, leaf-green eyes, five-six, dressed in a dark gray conservative skirt-suit and carrying a copy of the Washington Post in her hand. She looked quite tired, which gave Alondra a start since in the two decades that they had been working together, she had never known Del -- no other names just Del -- to look anything other than in control.

"You look like shit. Rough day?" she said as she flicked another nut to a chattering squirrel.

Del nodded absently, her fingers twitching as her eyes flickered around. She finally relaxed slightly. "Clear. And rough like you would not believe. You haven't heard about Verdun yet, have you?"

"Verdun?" Alondra blinked, referencing her memories and the information at hand. "It doesn't ring a bell."

Del gave a bitter smile. "Cover-up's holding for now then. Short and dirty, shipgirls aren't the only things that can come back as the spirit of something. Last month the spirit of the town of Verdun, where one of the largest battles of the First World War happened nearly broke free. We locked it back down, but it was a damn near close run thing with a bigger death toll averted than I care to think about and more undead than I even want to contemplate right now. Perhaps ever. Nearly killed us shutting it down."

Alondra stared. "You sound like you had a personal part in it."

"Oh yes." Del's shoulders slumped as she spoke wearily, "I got tapped for my sins to be part of the strike team that went into the belly of the beast to shut it down. It was... rough and I nearly died in there. But while it's all in the paper," she tapped the newspaper resting on the bench between them, "Verdun broke some major shit loose that you need to be aware of."

Alondra leaned forward, eyes intent. "Trouble then."

Del agreed with a deep sigh, "Big trouble. Internationally the Germans went full retard and pulled out of the ICW when the news of Verdun hit. We aren't sure if they are planning to rearm up to go a-conquering or what, they have locked the borders down tighter than a miser's purse. The ICW is running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to deal with things and the neighbors are panicking. Tensions over in Europe are rising to a level I last saw in the mid fifties, or perhaps the thirties. So don't be surprised if something breaks loose then and there. Japan's a mess as well, but at least trying to deal with their internal problems for the shit I checked on since we last met. Details are in my report."

Del rubbed her eyes, "Domestically MACUSA is up to something too but I don't know what. I got a whiff of something called MAYFLOWER, no other details, just the name on an emergency financing proposal the Congress approved and someone failed to redact before I got a glimpse at it. It's getting a hell of a lot of money and I don't know what for. Security is getting paranoid as well, they are looking for leaks like yours truly since some of the dinosaurs think that the no-majs plan to reenact the Salem Witch Trials on them if they get a whiff about magic."

Delilah shrugged at Alondra's concerned look "If that was not bad enough, also we nearly had a escape of a Naagloshi from the Superstition Mountains into downtown Phoenix two days ago. Fortunately I was able to put paid to it when I checked the wards and realized we had a shapeshifting runner heading out for a spot of serial killing. Disguised the corpse as a drug cartel hit where they burned the body. Thank God for the narcotraficantes giving us excuses to justify that kind of thing to the local law enforcement when they look into the reports of a car on fire with a few bricks of cocaine in the trunk and a burned corpse behind the wheel."

Del tapped the paper again. "Copies of the Scourer activity reports and the other relevant paperwork that crossed my desk are in there too as normal, of course. I also included a map of areas of concern in the CONUS and Alaska where we have things warded that shouldn't be messed with, like Verdun. For God's sake when this blows keep a lid on those things. I don't know how much longer that we can keep the charade going and I really don't know which way MACUSA will jump when it collapses. A fair few of the isolationists are terrified of getting outed, and that includes some people who have Quahog's ear, dammit. And terrified people do stupid shit and some of them are getting very paranoid. Not a majority, but enough to cause big trouble."

Alondra tossed the rest of the peanuts to the squirrels. "How long have we known each other? Twenty years now?"

Del shrugged, "More or less. Longer if you count seeing me when I visited your father to check in on him after the Beirut Bombing in 1982. He did me and mine a solid in Lebanon back then during the Civil War. Ask him for the details sometime and tell him that I cleared you."

Alondra nodded, "I heard his family stories of you as a teenage girl. That was why I joined the Corps just like him. Wound up in Military Police instead of infantry like Papai did, so after I did my four, I transitioned to the civilian side and joined the FBI. Where I ran into you again."

Del agreed absently. "1993. World Trade Center Bombing. I ran into you since I was aware by that time that Al-jamāʻah al-islāmīyah had been infiltrated by Shayatin, and Abdel-Rahman was working hand-in-glove with them."

Alondra agreed. "Our first big case together, even if I was the junior rookie agent pounding the bricks then. At least those mundane scumbags responsible won't ever see the outside of a Supermax outside their coffin, and the magicals you dealt with."

Delilah gave a brief nasty smug smirk. "Oh yes, the Witch of November makes an excellent and willing jailer for Shayatin. Water severely weakens and inhibits their powers, especially cold water, and she is quite a possessive and cruel bitch who fundamentally can never let any 'guests' in her ice-water mansion at the bottom of Lake Superior go. She and I have... an agreement, I suppose you can say. She is willing to listen to me just long enough to let me explain the nature of the jinn which I have captured, and she agrees to keep them as her guests for me."

Alondra gave a matching smirk. "We did swear to defend the Constitution against all enemies Foreign and Domestic, Del."

"Indeed we did, Al. Indeed we did." Del sighed deeply, "Doesn't change the fact that we are now in endgame and not too many more moves left on the board from all indications. Let your bosses know that time is running out in the hourglass and plan accordingly. I don't know if I will see you again, so I made arrangements for failsafe copies of all the data that I gathered to help the transition to be sent to you if MACUSA realizes what I have been doing. They are already looking for me. Or the shit breaking loose takes me out, since it is crisis central for the Aurors these days."

She turned and looked deep into the deep-brown eyes of the Brazilian-American Natural-born Shipgirl, and slowly spoke in a weary voice. "If I don't see you again, I just wanted to say. Thank you. For everything. And keep on fighting the good fight."

Alondra placed her hand on Del's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You too. Now go and get some rest. You deserve it. You did your part and more, let others take up the labor now and protect yourself from the reckoning at hand if they catch you."

Del shook her head slowly. "Not really possible since I swore an oath back in 1864 to do my part and it is not discharged yet. All of us, me, my sisters, my nieces, my aunts, my father are all crazy like that in our own ways. Functionally crazy, but crazy is crazy. So many have sacrificed so much to advance this great work remaining before me and I must see it through to the end, no matter the cost. I cannot betray them... or myself even in this late hour. Even knowing the risks if MACUSA finds out all that I have done."

She stood up, leaving the newspaper with the files stolen from MACUSA hidden inside the pages on the bench and straightened her skirt.

As Alondra David, the natural-born shipgirl of USS Pillsbury (DE-133) watched, MACUSA Auror Delilah de Breuil whispered a verse of poetry in a voice filled with steely determination as she stared at the park's trees. Tears glistened in her eyes as she headed back to do what she could to prepare the Magical and Nonmagical United States for the inevitable fall of the Statute of Secrecy.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord Khuzdul

Hızır sighed. "Alright, this changes things. Initially, we thought the army in Sarıkamış was directionless, and expected them to follow their last orders – to move towards Russia. But now I have a very bad feeling about this. So…" He turned to the destroyer shipgirl sitting next to Sinbad. "I need you to go get Hamidiye and if possible Yavuz immediately."

Demirhisar got a distant look for a moment. "Done. Radio is magnificent, isn't it? Hamidiye is actually close. She will come in now." She then turned to the door, and a moment later, the doorframe darkened with the tall, willowy form of the protected cruiser.

At first glance, Hamidiye did not cut an impressive figure. Distinctly coltish even at her apparent age of early 30s, her tall frame looked all arms and legs. She was sharp featured, with a shock of windswept black hair topping a face which had the light olive complexion shared by her Near Eastern and Italian origins. Her almond eyes were an expressive hazel, and her brow was somewhat creasedas she took in the group in front of her.

As Ali lightly blushed and ducked his head, she gave him a brief smile. "Well, I cannot let you out of my sight for a moment, it seems." She then turned to the rest. She gave a respectful nod to Hızır and Ilyas, then grinned. "Well well well. Helmsman Sinbad al-Bayruti, I was wondering where the hell you were. So was the captain."

Sinbad just gave her an irreverent grin, eliciting a shake of the head. She then approached the table. "Yavuz will be here in ten minutes or so, but Demirhisar will be relaying anything we talk about to her." She glanced at the teenager destroyer, who had a resolute look on her face as she nodded. "Her radio set is better than mine. So, problem? She mentioned Sarıkamış.

Korkut leaned forward. "Exactly. Backstory first. A couple of weeks ago, Verdun in France threatened to blow up spectacularly. Basically, the battle there was both magical and nonmagical, and horrible on both sides. So the residue, the spells used, the death and destruction, it corrupted the spirit of the area. Right after the war, apparently, it was locked down and sealed through clandestine wardwork using the monuments in the area. For some reason, and by that I mean we have some speculations as to why but nothing concrete, it decided to break its bindings at the worst possible time. We are thinking it might be related to the ungodly amounts of magical energy released by the awakening of Halifax, but I am not sure. Still, long story short, a strike team went into an undead reenactment of 1916, managed to make it to the breach point, and resealed her. However, the close call did jar loose some problems. One of them is right on our doorstep – Allahuekber Mountains. The tens of thousands of dead from the Battle of Sarıkamış, in addition to the debacle that followed, really tainted the whole region. Undead has always been a problem, but we do not have convenient sites like the French did, so warding and protection schemes are less a complete seal and more a containment effort. That changed, apparently, right after Verdun was finally put down."

He pulled out a gnarled wand of juniper wood and waved it over the table, shrugging at the raised eyebrow from the others. "What? It is convenient." A map of Eastern Anatolia appeared on the surface, with a rash of red down the mountains at its northern edge, and a handful of glowing spots surrounding it. "A few days ago, responding aurors discovered a large band of undead soldiers moving slowly down the mountains. They tried the standard containment and misdirection, to get the soldiers to turn back and head back up into the containment areas, but this time they failed, and got their asses handed to them. Only two survived out of a team of seven. Those two, thankfully, stumbled upon an old tekke, a place of power for one of the eren in the region. Their entrance, along with the presence of nearby undead, roused the old eren, and thankfully Babaerenler were able to head off the band, which was almost a regiment." He then indicated the rest of the red rash. "However, later on more bands appeared. The auror on the scene, one Murat, made a smart decision and started hitting various open and hidden tekke and turbe in the region, getting more and more awliya into the fight. However, there is a limit to how many dervish that can be put against the army, and that limit is pretty much reached. More than one wali has already martyred himself to both hold them back and to keep things quiet. When I left the area two days ago, they were stretched thin to hold the valleys. I thought this was just another upswell due to the necromantic energy released in Verdun, but it seems I was wrong." He nodded at Schehrazade.

Schehrazade looked up from her phone. "Okay, I have bits and pieces, not much. I contacted a friend in the Istanbul Adli Tıp. She says even though it was discovered this morning, the grave was opened at least a couple of weeks ago. Since they did this so long ago, in the middle of the city in a busy park, and nobody noticed anything until today, suggests magic. And considering who it is, we have to assume they were connected."

Hamidiye sat back. "Well, so somebody picked Enver, and took him to the army he killed."

Schehrazade nodded. "We were thinking that we had to command the army to turn back, but for that we need someone with authority. We were thinking about you, actually. You certainly have the legend for it."

Hamidiye shook her head. "Maybe, maybe not. Still, if they have Enver leading it, that definitely will not work. But first, we must confirm Enver is actually used to lead the army. And we must have an idea why they are pulling this and now."

Schehrazade leaned forward and pressed a finger on Mount Tendürek. "There is your problem. In the distant past, the region was much fought over by jinn and Shayatin. In Biblical times, three great armies of Shayatin were sealed under three of the major volcanos in the area – Tendürek, Süphan and Nemrut, with Lake Van between them to weaken them. Nemrut is somewhat secure for now – it is being watched closely, and so is Süphan. But I have information that some local unpleasant characters have been dealing with various free Shayatin under the table, and they have moved north through Van recently. Tendürek is the most isolated of the three, so we are concerned that they might hit that seal. However, the army is a new development. So far, their movements suggest they are gunning for the town of Sarıkamış, but now that I think about it, Sarıkamış is between them and Tendürek. It is also between them and Armenia proper." She shook her head. "It can be one, it can be other. It can even be both, with Enver having one agenda and the Shaitan holding his leash having another. We really need more information."

Hamidiye shook her head. "That I can agree with. Yavuz is going to be here any minute. Between us we do have some resources we can call in. But what we need is a recon in force." She turned to Ali. "Call Mehmet. Let's start putting together a strike team. Best case scenario, we can put another bullet into Enver's brainpan and actually resolve the issue. Worst case scenario… well, I will try to pry Sultan Osman loose from her duties down in Cyprus. Because we will need a lot of big guns. Hope it won't come to that though. Because if that happens we are never going to keep this hidden."

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XXV)

MACUSA Headquarters, Woolworth Building, New York City

May 13th, 1946
Spoiler: Muramasa and Shayṭān

Delilah de Breuil stared at the report that had come to her from Far East Department. It listed individuals in custody that were awaiting trial for crimes of aggression and crimes against humanity.

Her eyes locked on one name on the list once more and her hands shook as she reread the list through the tears in her eyes.

Muramasa-no-Norimune.

Father.

Wha̦t͇ ̼̩͔͠ri͡gh͘t҉ ͏̳did M̼̤̗A̦̖̗CU͕͉SA̸̙͔̟ hạ̠̜ve ͈̬̤t̨o̙͇ p͎͟u̴t̖̣͙ ͎h҉e̢̜͎r̵͚͔̫ f̯a͔̜̦ţ̘͙he͞r͜ ̸on̗ ̬͙͉̕t͢r̭͕i̬ͅa̡͓̼̻l̞̬? ̘̫ ̞̰

T̹h̺̻̠ey ̖̳́ha̘d̺̜̱ ̶a̺̟l̼͜r̛͎̩̠e̦̠͜a͏̦͉d̤y̫͓ ̵wr̡̝̝ͅi̪t̛t́e͇̬͡n h̡̹e̻̩r o͜u̡t̙ ̴o̷f ̨̙t̪he͔̭ir̯̬͜ͅ h͕i̛st̯̙̕oŗi̻͕͙͘e̛͉s̩̳̖!̖̬̝ ͈̘̖͞

T̪̘̤hey̮ ̻͜ha̦̜̣͞d ͕̟ͅc̤͕o̪n̜̳͘c̜̦̕e̻̗̫ale͔̥͜d͕ ̹̹̀a͚̺l̴l t̖h͔at͠ ͠s͞h͓̺͈è̯ ̳̀h͙̘̦͘ad do̲̱ͅn̘̭͚e͚̯̗ ̮̜f̣o̱̙ͅr ̻̺ṭ͔h̠̭e͕m̼͟!̫

Th͜e̛̠͖͔y ̖had ͠spa͏̙t ̮͝u̹̬po͝n̨͕ ̞̦h͚e̺̭̯r br͙̼a̧v̤̲͇e̲͉̖ry̼̜͠ ̩͡a͓͞n̦̳̳d̩ ҉s̗ac͚̞̲r̤i̹f҉i̸c̤e̤͞ ̤͍͎a͝nḓ͞ ̕he̬͓r̜͙̩oi̲sm̷!

She felt her anger flare at the whispers coiling their way from the depths of her soul.

Á̭͎̰͒̑ ͧͨͨ̋̑ͦ͗c̲o͏ld̹̪̼̘̠̺̜̒̇͆̀̓́͒,̻̳͉̲̼ͅ r̔͊ͥe̳̙͓ͅͅmo͖͚͉̼̟ͅrs̨̤̰̞ē̟̺͖ͮ̂l͎̮̥͓ͧͩͪ͐e͠s̩̯̪̼̯s̈́̅̔̆ͭ̊҉̹͎̳̖̦͇ ̮̂̀kͭͥ̒̿̔̀i͛̀ͦ̀͊̽̈l͂̍l͂ͪ̔i͖ͬn̵g̷̗͉̮̘̙͎̉ͫͪ͌̎̎ ̏ͥa̾͌̑̄ͪn̤̫̮͇̙̮̮g͇͓̼͚̗͔̜e̽̃͊͗̊ͣr̷ ̰̻̩̝͆̀ͩ̆a̯̺͉̲̠ͅt̠̱̠̩̥̰̜ th̫̣̠̳̻͊̊́̽̈͜e̟̝̼̩͕̗ ̷̠̳̦͚͓͖̩f͔͂o̠̹̲̻͉͠o̙̪̥l̅͆͒͗̍̚͝s ͞of̢̖̪̦̲̭͍͑̉̽͗̔̑ ̦̫̝ͩ̊̇͡M̷̤̖Ȃ͎̤̪̺̥̔̎̓̓C͉͕̗͙̺͚ͅU̮̪̹S͚̣A̰̠̞ ̯ͣtͪͤ̿ͮ̇́͏̤̩͉̘̺ͅhå͑ͫ͗̇ṯ̤͎̬͛ͨ͑̽ ̼̱͖̞̂ͧͤ̋͜wȅ̸̬̪̬̥̝̉͒͐͆r̭̦̘̟e̕ l͈̺̻i̡͙̙̐͑ar̹̼̣̹͠s̬̜̽ͭ͘ ̶̔ͭ̒ͥͭa͒̀́ṉ̖̤d ̳͇̳̝͌̉̾̽h̠͓̜̬̞̥́̉̍̃ͧͧÿ̛́́ͪ̇ͮ̋p͗̈͒ṍ̫̪̮ͯc̺r͓͑į̞̩̱̫t̽̽̌̾͒̌͊ẹ̣͍̟͈̝ș̤̙̪͙͉̺͛͑ͨ̆́̓͋.͔͔̳̫͑͗́̈.̀ͭ̑ͨ̾͘.͓̜̈́ͨ

NO!

She checked her hand's involuntary movement toward her true body -- hidden in a shoulder holster under her robes -- and focused on the door.

She plastered a false smile directed at the man silhouetted there over the seething anger at MACUSA gnawing at her self-control.

"Ben! When did you get in?" She asked.

Ben Arnold walked into her office and closed the door before speaking in a furious voice. "Just today. I got replaced by fucking Jenkins and reassigned to headquarters posting now. Archives if you can believe it. But then you already know about that bureaucratic power play, don't you Delilah!"

Delilah's own eyes hardened as her temper flared. "I have no idea what you are talking about Benedict Arnold. I have been busting my butt here and not messing with you at all."

"Don't play dumb with me, Delilah, it doesn't become you. I know that you are jealous of me so you set up that bullshit security review of my actions last February to get me sent back here in disgrace while you schemed to advance past me! Father told me how your family pulled strings to get you promoted too, despite the postwar draw-down and reorganization in MACUSA!" Ben lashed out hotly.

"Ben," Delilah said, as she rubbed her throbbing temples, "Last February when all this knife in the cloakroom shit you are accusing me of went down I wasn't here. I was in Persia putting paid to the Reds' plan to take control of an entity out there with this amulet." Delilah opened a locked and warded desk drawer and rooted around, eventually pulling out the bronze amulet of Erlik Khan, which she tossed underhanded to Ben.

As he fingered the amulet and his eyes narrowed, Delilah finished. "Go and ask your father if you don't believe me, but I was out of the country in Persia from leaving here January second to returning March tenth. That whole operation is AQUA BEAGLE if you want to check my time card. Oh and I'd like my little souvenir back since I'm hanging onto it until we can put it in a Dark Artifact containment box."

He handed the amulet back and stormed out of the office. Delilah sighed and waited for several minutes before asking Zamarad to come in and take dictation. Once the privacy wards were up, Delilah looked at the Ifrit.

"You saw?" She said quietly.

Zamarad nodded sadly. "I saw. It is unbalancing him. Very little is left of his humanity now, soon it will be like a scorpion wasp that has devoured its host from the inside out. And... I suspect that it suspects you now."

Delilah nodded. "Stay out of sight so it does not pick up that I have you as an ally. If it goes for me, well what must be must be."

A hour and a half Ben reappeared and nodded. He spoke in a obviously controlled voice. "I was out of line, it wasn't you who back-stabbed me. Congratulations on your promotion." The final words were in a sugary sweet voice.

"Thank you," Delilah responded, fighting for control against the insidious whispers. "I got it when I got assigned to put together Near Eastern operations for my sins along with the promotion to Lieutenant Colonel."

"I see. What's the memo that had you worked up earlier?" Ben responded as he extended his hand for a shake and leaned over her desk.

Delilah automatically glanced at the header on the copy of the memo which she was saving to hand to her mother to confirm that it was not classified. "Just a list of the Kamo-supporters that we caught." she spoke with forced calm in her voice as she handed it over.

Ben scanned the list. "Hmmph. Bunch of damn worthless Nips. Do the world a favor and send them all to the Death Potion. Just need to burn the cancer out and start over fresh out there."

Below the desk, Delilah's fist clenched as a cold light flickered deep in her eyes behind her pleasant facade. "You plan to tell your friends and family that then?"

"I sure do. Say, Delilah, we really need to talk in private sometime soon. I found out something that you need to know since friends like us need to stand together against the REMFs back here who hid out to screw us rather than put it on the line." Ben agreed with a pleasant smile and an unctuous voice.

Delilah nodded as behind her smiling face the cogs and gears of her brain spun in overdrive. "How about a week from Friday, so the 24th? I'm pretty much tied down by work for this upcoming week," Delilah gestured at her overflowing inbox in wordless apology, "and this weekend Mother has already claimed my time to supervise some home renovation. She's putting in new carpet and woodwork downstairs, which means I will be handling the remodeling for the dining room."

"That works for me, Delilah. I have some people to talk to about trying to fuck me over and need to get unpacked myself. I'll see you at the Five PM staff meeting then." Ben agreed as he turned to go.

"Catch you then, Ben." Delilah agreed as she watched him go. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

------------------------------------

"I need some fall guys for a murder." Delilah said as she paced in her family's parlor in front of her mother (both sitting and watching and painted) and Zamarad. "Scourers, preferably." Firelight and candles flickered to drive back the evening darkness.

Jezabel nodded, "I can make arrangements through the network to have him suffer a run-in with suspected scourers. But, what did you have in mind, Del?"

Delilah turned and pointed at the ring on Zamarad's breast. "The problem with that damn binding spell is that if the jinn breaks momentarily free it latches back on her and drags her back into its thrall. Trying to brute-force break it will just cripple if not kill Zamarad. However, if the targeting can be diverted to another Jinn instead like the one possessing Ben...."

Jezabel's portrait finished, "Then Zamarad would be free and the Shayṭān would be bound in the ring for disposal."

Delilah's smile was feral. "Exactly. I have enough knowledge to do that by redirecting the targeting parameters, but I'll need someone else to control the ring and direct it at the Shayṭān while Zamarad and I duel it once I lure it into the trap I have in mind. That's where you come in, Mother, once we weaken it enough to be trapped."

Zamarad spoke, "You know that it will try to kill you, and unlike myself, it will not hesitate in deploying its powers to their fullest extent."

Delilah nodded soberly. "I know. But I'm reasonably certain Ben knows that I'm onto him. He has to know by now that I made copies of the files about him since he knows my magical signature. Basic precaution there if you are going covert is to cover your trail. He was looking for an excuse to get to me earlier."

The flames in the fireplace leapt up wildly as Zamarad snarled furiously, "Over my dead body!"

Delilah's smile was cold. "Over his dead body is my plan. Now, this is what I intend to do about our foe...."

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Am I Now Who I Was?

Norimune's farm in Uenohara-shi, Yamanashi Prefecture, 74 miles west of Tokyo, Japan

22 June 2014

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.

Tennyson - "Ulysses"
Spoiler: Toku's Return

Masamune-no-Tokunotakai stepped out of the Vanishing Cabinet that connected Norimune's farm in a mountain valley to the hidden basement of her youngest daughter's family home. Where yet another Vanishing Cabinet rested, connecting the basement where American slaves had hidden once on their trip to freedom in Canada with the ancestral Belgian castle of Moulbaix where her love Colombe du Chasteler had been raised.

She paused to deposit a thank-you letter and note that she would be in the Tsurugaoka Hachimangū shrine for the next few weeks as she caught up upon her duties there upon the table in the hall. The invitation to visit was clear in her hand-brushed and heart-felt words.

Toku silently reflected on the castle that she had just come from as she walked down the lane leading from the farmhouse. Moulbaix had started as a place where Colombe had grown from her infancy as an adopted bastard daughter of a noble, to womanhood. She had learned how to fight and fence, learned of her heritage of magic. A castle that she had left for schooling, to wander and explore, yet always returned to. A castle that had seen her grow up with her half-siblings, stepmother, and Papa to forge the unbreakable bonds of family, learning that fundamental fact that defined her perhaps more than any other element. A castle that had see her return in disgrace and failure, triumph in trophies in tow. It had seen her celebrate a birth, mourn the death of her beloved Papa and her merely mortal family members one by one. It had seen her betrayed by the last and most treacherous of her adopted kin, seen her duel him to the death and seen her triumph over Hippolyte turned to ashes in her mouth as his Grudge had risen as an onryo ghost to haunt and torment her for over a century. It had seen Colombe slowly refill it, refill her life from that dark day that nearly shattered her love as she repopulated it with friends, half-sisters of her blood, daughters of her own adoption and blood, and finally her as a lover.

Toku smiled briefly as she remembered how Co-chan had shared her home and welcomed her inside in that moment where she saw all the hammerblows of time and fate and the past that had forged her love into what she was today. The Miko walked to the side of a flowing stream that the lane crossed, looking into the crystal-clear water.

She caught glimpses of her reflected avatar staring back at her. Dark hair down to her mid back in her preferred hime cut, traveling clothes, her true body sheathed at her waist, the walking stick marked with the trail stations of her ascent of Mount Fuji four short months ago.

And blue-green eyes that revealed what her avatar's form hid so well. The scars that had marked her spirit in the hell of Verdun.

She could close her eyes and think and return to that foul and corrupted land that she had fought through alongside Norimune and Colombe. Three Blades of Hachiman fighting as one against souls shackled to the Wheel of Suffering with manacles of such evil and cruelty that it caused her soul to weep.

Sometimes in the darkness of the night as she clung to Co-chan's comforting warmth, she had felt equally tainted just by enduring contact with the monstrosity that Verdun was.

It made a Gashadokuro look relatively tame, which Toku had not believed was remotely possible before faced with the Hell that Verdun had been. A Hell that her lover Colombe d'Aubigny du Chasteler had endured in 1916 and then again short weeks ago.

Before she had faced true evil and corruption.

Before she had had to confront the shrieking terrible realization that the air, the soil, the water, everything in that dreadful place was tainted, foul, and hated her with the desire to not just kill her but consume and enslave her.

Before she realized in that shrieking moment that her survival or destruction was reliant upon her skill with spell and steel, yes but also the efforts and strengths of the other ten souls fighting through Verdun alongside her, and would be judged mercilessly by blind chance.

Before she felt the machine-gun slugs rip through her right lung and Norimune drag her and Colombe to shelter in a shellhole at the risk of her life. Just as she in turn would save Norimune minutes, hours, perhaps days later in the desperate attempt to hold the line as the breach slowly closed when a shell knocked Norimune from her feet. Toku stood over her, fighting two-handed as her blood flowed to give the dazed nodachi the time to come to her senses and recover her blade.

She looked at her reflection and whispered "I thought I knew what War and Cruelty and Evil were. But Hachiman-dono was right when he said that I would be forever scarred when I entered their realm"

The babbling brook seemed to give agreement in the voice of water over stone as she squared her shoulders and spoke contemplatively to the ghost of her reflection. "And yet, I have truly experienced what my rival from birth, my sisters, and my love bear willingly. I have now seen the scars of their past and their failures on their souls. I have tasted of the wine of the brotherhood forged among warriors who stand together against great evil and mingled their blood shed to protect each other with those who stood alongside me against Verdun. I have seen the quality of their steel in the heat of the furnace of war, just as they have seen mine." She paused and finished solemnly. "I find myself closer to them in ways that I cannot define. For truly, I have been forged by blows of the same cruel hammer upon the anvil of conflict and have my own blood spilled and lives taken staining my hands, just as they have upon theirs."

She knelt and placed her hand into the cool water, clenching it as she watched, then pulling it out and opening it to let the drops fall through her fingers. "I am more and less than I was, I fear. I have grown in skill and power and in many ways, truly Co-chan was right when she said that the choice that I made to determine who lived and who died marked me for all times and it is a burden that I shall bear forevermore. But... I have also lost something precious and fragile that shall never return."

She looked into the stream and sighed. "Was the price of my experiences truly worth it? For I can never return to the innocent maiden who I was. I must learn to live with this Masamune-no-Tokunotakai who has killed others, who has faced death alongside others, who has nightmares of the evils that I fought."

"And yet, I have helped Co-chan and Norimune-chan find a measure of peace and understanding and reconciliation in the aftermath of our struggle. For the look in Co-chan's eyes when Norimune told her of her mother," Toku spoke with tears tricking down her face, "I would endure a thousand upon a thousand Verduns to forge that understanding that let them both share their pains and find some measure of healing."

She resumed her walk to the train station. "It is odd. For the past centuries, I thought little of Norimune, and when she met me half a century ago, drunk and angry, I was upset with her disturbing the sanctity of the Shrine." Toku gave a wry chuckle as she walked across the bridge spanning the river. "Just as Miko Punchable Face was upset when Co-chan showed up. And now, now knowing of what she endured, both of them endured... I pity them for the pains that they suffer and yet am moved to compassion and a wish to help share their burdens. Just as they have helped share my burden of understanding."

With that insight, she bought the ticket to Tokyo as the first step of her return to the Tsurugaoka Hachimangū that she had grown up in for the past four centuries of her life.

Tsurugaoka Hachimangū, Kamakura

23 June 2014

The predawn sky was a faint gray as Tokunotakai made her way up the eight-hundred year stone staircase to the top.

As she climbed to the top, a cooing caused her to look up and see the mated pair of wood pigeons looking at her from atop a torii gate. She bowed humbly to Hachiman's sacred messengers and spoke into the predawn hush. "Please inform the Lord of Eight Banners that I have returned home and shall report to him as soon as I can. Also... tell him that he was right. The innocent shrine maiden who left here was seriously wounded saving the family in Aokigahara and Verdun was her death blow. I shall mourn her, mourn myself forevermore both for what I have lost," Toku's voice broke as she finished, "And what I have found in myself to gain."

As the doves took flight to vanish into the sky beyond her sight, Masamune-no-Tokunotakai changed into her Miko robes, and purified herself at the well. The shrine steps awaited sweeping, after all, along with the rest of her duties for the day.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord Khuzdul

A small bit from the friend I have mentioned earlier in the thread, who was helping me do the research for the writing. He is currently working as a teacher in a small village school in the Kurdish areas, so he has an unique perspective. He got inspired by what he has seen there.

Can't say good guys never get reinforcements.

---

"I turned and prayed to Jêle
Bright Jêle, like a friend
Consoled me, and said 'worry not, He will come
Düzgün is His name, He is Düzgün Baba'…"
From "Baba Düzgün", a traditional Zaza song
First light of the new day was gleaming over the snow-capped peaks Dersim's mountains; the Silver Gates of Anatolia; the place where one can still smell the death in the earth, hear the dirges in the wind, and tremble with the hopelessness at the chill of winter. The home of both stalwart defenders and foulest traitors of the whole peninsula. The place with harsh winters, limited farmland, and mountains whom only most stubborn goats may discover.

In a small, isolated village, a young woman was in labour. She tried to push, many times, with no success. In another one, a man suddenly woke up with a vicious howl. The times were dire, it was no surprise that wolves dared to descend near human settlements. A mother was desperately trying to lower his youngest son's fever. Almost instinctively, these three unrelated people of Eastern Anatolia muttered the same plea; "Oh Düzgün, chief of 366 wali(1), help us!"

The cry of a great, silver-winged eagle echoes upon the valleys of all Dersim. The young woman's pain was soothed, just as the child's fever. Wolves, like they were given an absolute order, started to head back to the wilds. The chill winds started to slow, while birds started to chirp happily.

Qahs, The Chief of Dersim's Marids, the tribe of Djinni who dwell around water sources, also heard the eagle's cry, which was quite familiar to him. "He is awake…" he told silently to Khoolm, his seneschal. "How would he miss all this ruckus?"

A man in his forties was sitting on a mountain while all these happened; eyes closed and head resting on an oaken staff. Strangely enough, there were grass and flowers around him. A great, silvery eagle descended and sat upon his shoulder. He raised his head, stood up, and lowered the hood of his kepenek(2) over his head. He turned to the east, as if he was saluting the sun. "Peace be upon you oh dales and rivers of my home.," he muttered "for I am ready to defend you and the people you graciously fed thousands of years against the wretched hordes of shayatin." He gently tapped the ground with his staff, and vanished in to the winds.
Düzgün; the spirit of Dersim, chief of 366 wali, Mithra, the Father of Dersim was finally awake.

(1) Wali means both "friend, supporter" and "holder, protector" in Arabic. In Islamic context, a "wali" -or "awliya" in plural form is a person who has a close connection with Allah.
(2) Kepenek is the traditional garment of Anatolian shepherds.

 

[darthcourt10]

Third Summer Holidays - Summer THREE

START

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Sitting in seiza, Harry listened as the music in his radio changed and snorted a little in amusement as he recognized it as being a Nightwish CD that Regina had gotten him one year as a gift. For a few moments he continued to listen as his mind drifted to when she had given him said gift. However, soon enough, he shifted his position slightly and looked at the bubbling cauldron beside him on a hot plate. The cauldron itself was not very big, about the size of a large tea cup. But within it bubbled a potion that he had prepared.

With a small nod, Harry reached to the side as he got ready for what he needed to do. Picking up a long object in a silk sleeve, he pulled it out from one end to reveal a Bokken made of wood. The very same one that Juuchi had carved for him personally.

Well, one of the two.

There was a second one carved to resemble Tsukiakari. That one though he only used every once in a while when Tsukiakari gave him a few training pointers. But the one in his lap was the one he currently used for training from Hoshi and had been carved to resemble Juuchi. The memories of the harsh training sessions from the Kyuubi rose up in his mind. The pain, humiliation, embarrassment, frustration... for a few moments it rose in him before he took a deep breath and let it out.

Instead, he pulled out a soft cloth and began to run it along the Bokken, gently cleaning it. With the practiced motions, he could feel all his negative emotions just... drift away. Almost as if though they were being absorbed by the blade with each stroke of the cloth. This was the first step in the maintenance of his Bokken. Something that was practically pounded into his head by Hoshi as well as Tsukiakari. From them, he learned that many people who had such often forgot to maintain them. A fact that often caused the wooden swords to crack and splinter, of outright break, in a sparring match.

Being as he was taught from a young age to take care of his things, he learned how to maintain his Bokken properly... with some deviations from the norm.

One of those deviations happened as he completed the cleaning of his Bokken. Bringing it up to his eye, he examined the wood for any signs of splintering, it cracks, or any damage. There was, of course, a few dings and scrapes from his sparring with Hoshi. It would be impossible for there not to be any. With a soft hum, Harry picked up his wand and began to gently stroke the wood of his blade with the end as he focused his magic. He had learned that the sensors to detect magic didn't pick up his transfiguration method of making art. Something that he latched on for to work his blade since under normal methods, he would have had to sand them out.

Repair charms, while they would have also worked, were limited unfortunately. One could use them only so many times on the same object before they started to fail. And the object in question was not quite as strong as before where the repair charms had fixed the damage. It was not an issue with shipgirls as the Repair Baths took care of that issue. But he still felt more comfortable with transfiguration just the same.

As he watched, his magic went to work and slowly, the dings, scrapes, and other damage vanished as if they had never existed. But other than that, he could not spot any damage to his Bokken. No cracks or splinters, which made him nod as he ran his hand along the wood that made it up. From Juuchi, he knew, it had been carved from the heartwood of an English Oak that had fallen in the Forbidden Forest where it had looked out over the Black Lake. Once, the tree it had come from had drank deeply of that lake. And it had lived in one of the last, primeval remnants of the great forest that had covered the British Isles after the last ice age. The tree itself was old, and having counted the rings, the oak had been at least eight hundred years before it fell and died.

Hand brushing along the smooth wood, part of Harry wondered... What had the oak seen in its centuries of life? What wonders and horrors had it observed silently in the dark wood where it grew? And what secrets had it kept? Perhaps it had even seen Hogwarts raised! As well as the argument between Salazar and the others that broke their friendship and sent the founder of Slytherin House away from the castle it had once built.

With a slight smile on his lips, Harry chuckled and gently patted the wood, "I guess that I will never know, huh?"

Not getting an answer, he shook his head before proceeding to the next stage, which was also not conventional. Once more reaching to the slide, he pulled out a small case the size of a small pencil case before flipping open the lid. Inside was a paint brush which he pulled out and examined it for a few moments before nodding. Said brush was made by him personally, as noted in one of the Potter journals on maintaining wooden weapons and parts there or. Within the book, it mentioned that the brush had to be handcrafted by the one using it, which Harry had followed including the bit where it had to seem right. The wood of the brush itself was made of holly, like his wand, with the grip made of jet. However, the bristles? That was made with hair from Hoshi as he had not felt right using unicorn hair for a weapon.

Of course, when he had asked her hair, the Kitsune had given him an odd look. After which, she had asked his reasoning and why, though once she had heard? She had given him some fur from her tails with a bemused smile.

Gently picking up the brush in question, Harry rolled it around between his thumb and fingers. As always, it seemed... warm, welcoming his touch. Humming, he dipped the brush into the bubbling potion after turning off the hot plate and let the excess drip off before brushing the rest onto his Bokken. Slowly, methodically, but surely, he coated the wood of the sword with the potion. Even as he watched, it soaked into it, slowly vanishing. From the potion book, it was used to make wooden weapons more durable. The potion as it soaked in repairing any damage deep within the wood while strengthening it. It did not do anything other than that, but that was more than enough for Harry as he didn't need more.

After all, he wanted his Bokken to last for a very long time to come.

Soon enough, the last of the potion was brushed on and he set the now empty cauldron aside. Due to it needing the potion to fully soak in and dry before he could perform the next step, Harry gently placed the Bokken on a rack to do so before getting up. After all, he needed to clean and dry the brush before putting it away. That only took him a couple of minutes, though when he came back, he noted that Barghast was looking at his Bokken curiously as was Scruffles. Lightly smiling, he patted the two, who enjoyed it before chuckling, "Hey, you two. Enjoying being home?" Getting soft growls, Harry just nodded, "Yeah, same here."

The smile still on his face, Harry once more sat in seiza before placing the brush into the box it had been in and closing it. Once more picking up the Bokken, the thirteen year old examined it yet again for any real damage. Finding none though, as he had expected, he placed it on his lap and prepare for the final part.

Reaching beside him, he grabbed a small can of boiled linseed oil and a soft, Cotten rag. Softly humming under his breath, he soaked the rag in the oil before rubbing it along the Bokken. Methodically, he massaged the oil into the wood as he worked, sometimes setting the cloth with the oil he used. The only spot that Harry did not rub the oil into was at the boot of the Bokken. Not because he could not, for he could have. But the oil that was used there was the same that came from his skin. Something he had been told would help bond the blade to him.

Finally, after some work, he was done and tossed the rag into a metal pail. Best not to leave it dry somewhere that it could cause problems. Especially as the fumes could be flammable. With the Bokken's maintenance complete, Harry examined with a soft smile, "There we go... all nice and clean. Beautiful."

Yet again, Harry set the Bokken into the rack to dry and allow for the oil to soak in as he began to clean up the area. One had to clean up after themselves you know. By the time he was done, he glanced at the clock before nodding with a slight smile and sending off a text to Nagato that he was going out. Getting a reply, he walked out of the apartment and closed the door...

And returned five minutes later before looking at his Bokken on the rack. Considering it, Harry reached up and grasped the hilt of the blade before humming as he put it into a small carrying case, "You know? I bet that Okita-San and Uesugi-San will be interested in seeing you since I'm meeting them and the others. They're the top kendo experts at, well, my non-magical school." For a brief moment, he paused in thought, "Well, Nobu-San as well, but she doesn't bother much with the Kendo and Kenjutsu clubs. Not really her thing, though I wonder why she said it feels wrong to use another blade...?"

Shrugging after a few moments of thought, Harry picked up the case and walked out of the apartment and down to where his velomobile was parked. After so long of not using it due to being at Hogwarts, he relished using it once more. Well, after getting everything checked out to see if it was in working order for much the same reason. But it was, and thus he enjoyed it and soon, off he went.

Unknown to him, both Barghast and Scruffles were watching from the windowsill of the apartment. Both of them had noticed something... a little odd about the Bokken. There was a slight miasma that sometimes rose from it. A miasma that was bloodthirsty and contained battle thirst. It wanted to fight, to harm. Since February after he had gotten it and begun his training with Hoshi, they noticed it from. And it had slowly gotten stronger and stronger.

Granted, oddly enough, for some reason it did not seem harmful or threatening to Harry. The miasma seemed almost... welcoming to his touch. Both of them wondered if the Small Lady knew about it. As it did not seem harmful though, they decided that it could be brought up later.
___________________________________________________________________

Parking his velomobile, Harry smiled at the small cafe that met him before opening the cockpit and getting out. He did grab the carrying case though, and started to walk over with a wave, "Hey guys!"

Somewhat bemused, Natsumi waved back at him as the others gave greetings as well, "Good afternoon, Harry-Chan." As he reached them, she held out a cup of bubble tea, "Here, I bought this for you."

With a soft sigh, Harry gave her a smile, "Thanks, Natsumi-Chan." Taking a sip, he chewed on the tapioca pearl in his mouth, "I really appreciate it."

Just chuckling, the Kitsune smiled back, "You're welcome, Harry-Chan."

Glancing from one to the other with a raised eyebrow, Nobu hummed before gesturing with her cup, "Ah! So now it becomes obvious why you did not take me up on my marriage proposal! You and Natsumi-San are already together!" Ignoring the sputters from them, the reincarnated warlord nodded, "Makes sense."

Moments later, Okita smacked her upside the head with a growl, "Stop that!" With a sigh, she bowed towards to two embarrassed teens, "Sorry about that, Harry-San. Sometimes Nobu-Chan speaks before she thinks."

However, the lone Inugami of her group smirked and waved her off, "Don't worry about it. It's true after all." Crossing her arm, Ayaka gave the now flustered Natsumi a grin, "Well, that and the rest of their harem."

Eyebrows raising, Nobu grinned, "Hooo? Tell me more about this!"

Facepalming, Okita groaned, "Please, just stop, Nobu-Chan..."

Amused, said girl cackled, "Nope, can't be helped. I want to know more." Turning towards Ayaka, Nobu hummed, "So when you say harem...?"

Crossing her arms, Ayaka ignored how Natsumi was glaring at her, vengeance promised, "Well... Harry-Chan here has a number of girls after him. Mostly shipgirls... though one is an Abyssal, Regina a Re-Class. And Louisiana, the Battleship? She's in love with both Natsumi-San and Harry-Chan."

The whole time, the two teens in question got redder and redder. Especially when Ayaka mentioned cuddlepiles and got real looks of interest from Nobu-Chan as well as Uesugi. The later frowning thoughtfully and muttering to herself with a slight blush on her face, "A true man..."

Pinching her nose, Natsumi took a deep breath, "Harry-Chan?" Getting a nod, she continued, "No more peanut butter treats for Ayaka-Chan for at least a week now that you're back."

Briefly, there was a pause before the Inugami gained a look of horror on her face, "NOOOO!"

However, Harry just nodded in agreement while glancing at her with a frown, "Sure thing, Natsumi-Chan."

Rather amused at the now depressed Ayaka, Nobu turned back to Harry with a thoughtful look as she rubbed her chin, "Truly, you are a Conqueror. Yes, to triumph over even an Abyssal, I could have used you at my side to conquer Japan." Inside her mind, she sighed a little in fond remembrance of her first life time. More than one warm body pressed against her, then him, 'Ah... I miss such days...'

Already guessing what her friend was thinking of, Okita sighed a little, "Just... ignore her, Harry-San."

Deciding to listen to the advice, the thirteen year old wizard nodded, "Hai, I think that I will..." Pausing, he gave a small shrug, "Anyways, since I went back to my boarding school before I knew the results, what happened?"

Usagi gave him a small grin at that before hopping a bit, "Actually? We did great! Our class made the most money this year which means that we got a school trip to Hakone. And since our group made the most? We won a two day trip to some hot springs just outside of Yokosuka."

Surprised, Harry glanced between them, "Wait, really? We won the trip?"

Arms crossed over his chest, Kaku gave him a smirk, "We sure did, Harry-San. And thanks to you and your help too."

Rika shook her head in amused disbelief after glancing at the still depressed Ayaka, "Hai, the movie sold pretty well when all was said and done. I mean, I was amazed at how many copies we sold."

Just nodding, the British born boy frowned slightly before a thought occurred to him, "Uh, about the Onsen... do we know anything about it? And the area in particular?"

Eyebrows furrowing at the question, the various teens glanced at each other though Natsumi wonder as she guessed why. After a moment though, Okita frowned a little, "If you want, I can give a small check?"

When he nodded, she pulled out her phone with one hand and unlocked it. At the same time, she placed her cup of bubble tea and sat it on her chest before using both hands to do a quick search. She did miss how Nobu was giving her a slightly annoyed look though as she worked. Well... Nobu and some of the other girls. Natsumi only grumbled a little and shook her head as she knew that their friend was not meaning anything by it.

For her part, Asuka looked more amused than anything and wondered if she could have Jin meet her.

Soon enough though, Okita was done on her phone and grabbed her cup as she took a sip, "Well, it's a few years old? Just a normal Onsen, though there's some ruins that are from the Second World War nearby, nothing much though. Oh! And there's a development within walking distance, but according to this it keeps getting delayed for various reasons."

Looking over her shoulder, Uesugi frowned a little, "Says here that construction has basically stopped for the past year or so? Huh... odd."

Unnoticed by her, Harry had a slight frown on his face, '... I'm bringing one of my knives in my hidden sheath. Just in case...' A glance at Natsumi and he noticed that she had the same thought, 'Yeah... hopefully nothing happens.'

 

[darthcourt10]

baofengyu



Omake-

The Mandate Pt.1


…it is a quiet thing to fall…

"We live in interesting times," the brush glided across the paper. "Do you not agree?"
A vacant gaze was the only reply.
"You understand," Eyes briefly rose. "President Hu?"
Silence.

Graham nervously folded the parchment. It was a great risk, but one that his superiors were currently ignoring for some cockamamie scheme involving something called 'TOTEM'. The last crease in place, he took the letter to the window and opened it. He raised the folded letter to his face and blew.
The method of transit was common across the pond in merry old England, but it was never meant to travel this far. And Owl Post was right out because of the potential for interception. He needed help, and she was perhaps the one he could trust. She was most knowledgeable about the workings of the Far East and his interactions with her during his time in Canada as a junior diplomat and subsequent investigations might give him the evidence needed to convince his superiors.
The paper airplane disappeared into the distance.

Wei Ying put away the last of her reports, her fingers brushing the latest trinket and letter sent to her from her father's family when a paper airplane appeared and crashed into her desk. She blinked. The purple color was a dead giveaway as to the method of conveyance, but the fact that it traveled this far was most definitely a surprise. The contents, however, were not was she expected.

To the most honorable Wei Ying, HRCMMP,
I write this with most urgency as you are perhaps best able to make use of this news. My name is Graham Sinclair, and you might recall me from our work together involving the recovery of several…misplaced artifacts of Chinese origin in Seattle. It has come to my attention that the Magical Court of China has undergone a serious shift and fallen under the influence of a woman by the name of Wei Xiao. We can find no record of this woman anywhere, and her sudden appearance coupled with the death of Yin Ping soon after has raised many red flags in our department, but our leaderships seems to ignore the potential crisis. Despite our lack of knowledge in the Far East Magical World, I do not think it is normal or accepted that such a person can simply appear and be accepted as the Honorable Yin's successor and heir. If Magical China falls it could create further stress on the SoS, and the problems in Japan are only exacerbating the issue. I implore you to take this to your superiors and possibly investigate this threat before it could shatter the Statute.

Respectfully,
Graham Sinclair

Ying folded the memo and leaned back. The problems in China are not new, but this new player could create a great deal of chaos. Her thoughts raced back to the Treasure her mother held. Lately she has been feeling a great foreboding every time she visited, and she knew something was coming. Colombe might know more.

Wei Xiao set down her brush and held up the paper. The black ink burned into the paper as she turned it to the assembled throng.


任務丟失…

The Mandate is Lost…

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Three Cups Of Tea

Tsurugaoka Hachimangū, Kamakura

23 June 2014
Spoiler: Toku's Homecoming

Masamune-no-Tokunotakai finished sweeping the shrine steps as the sun cleared the horizon and illuminated her ahead of the incoming storm that would arrive around noon and drop several inches of rain on the area. She bowed to the kami of the gingko tree at the base as the last act in her morning ritual of preparation and meditation. Always before she had done so both to honor the tree and to honor the ghost of the murdered Minamoto shogun who had been assassinated where she stood.

But this time was different, she reflected to herself. This time she did so in the dear-bought steel-deep knowledge of how it felt to take a life. For she had watched in numbed shock as the Reserve Guard who she had slain in protection of innocents and her fellow Blade of Hachiman had his life fade from his despairing eyes.

His blood still stained her blade, her hands, her soul.

She had felt something deep inside her spirit shift in this instant as she contemplated the tree, the shrine, her home for long centuries that she now stood as a stranger within. She walked up the steps in a thoughtful mood and to her humble dwelling in the rooms attached to the dojo where she taught.

The flashing light on her cell phone recharger's answering machine showing messages that had come in while she was gone caught her eye as she contemplated the emptiness of her refrigerator and cabinets. Vaguely she remembered that she had planned to go grocery shopping alongside Co-chan the day after returning from Fuji-san.

That thought curled her lips in a wryly reminiscent smile as she remembered the past, since fate and the kami had other plans for her.

Instead of a simple ascent to test herself against the tallest mountain in Japan and witness the coming of Amaterasu to illuminate the Land of the Gods, it had taken unexpected turns.

Being guided to the magical trail down from the peak of Fuji-san that led into the haunted depths of Aokigahara Forest, the Sea of Trees, that hid one of the Reserves where the yokai of Japan were penned up in deteriorating conditions by the Magical Diet.

Hearing the desperate call for help from a jorogumo who was protecting her family both of blood and adoption from the cruelty of some of the Reserve Guards.

Toku's eyes darkened as she remembered the first fight for her life that she had ever been in. The moment when she, as Co-chan had explained in her hard-earned wisdom later, had to weigh the monumental choice of which life to save and which life to slay in that instant when inaction turned to action.

Fleeing with the Injured Yokai to Colombe's home castle in Belgium via emergency Portkey that her love had packed just in case of this kind of trouble. Not the way that she planned to make her first visit, but such was life, Toku reflected as she pulled down a canister of tea leaves and began to brew a cup.

Exploring Moulbaix alongside Colombe, helping exorcise the demons of the du Chasteler family's darkest shame both from the castle and from her love's soul where it had sunk its claws and whispered venom in her ear for decades. Meeting her future stepdaughters Claire and Ehren. Then the unexpected arrival of Colombe's sisters escorting Co-chan's oldest daughter, unknown to Co-chan until that instant. Her own sister Masamune-no-Fudo coming with them and challenging Co-chan to a fight to test her steel, a fight that had not quieted the festering grudge that her hot headed older sister had for her lover, but at least had established some level of wary and grudging respect.

Toku sipped her tea as she looked over the display of messages on her answering machine. One from last week struck her as she recognized Fudo's number.

She punched in the command and her sister's voice sounded. "Toku-chan. When you get home, call me as soon as you can. We need to talk. It is about family business including what you told me about in Belgium."

Toku smiled warmly at the thought of her gold eyed and dark haired sister's face. Fudo-chan was hot headed, true, but Fudo's steel was as strong and true as hers. With that thought, she punched in the familiar number.

"Moshi moshi?" Fudo's voice was full of frustration and banked anger under the control.

Toku smiled at the familiar words. "Older sister, it is I. I am back in Japan at the shrine now. I just got your message and wished to talk."

"Toku-chan!" relief filled her sister's voice, then Toku heard the honking of a car horn. "I'm on the road down to Yokusuka to tend to some family business. I'll explain more this afternoon when I can drive by, but the short and dirty version is that Kote called a family meeting. Everyone but you and Truman attended and we had a long talk about what you found out. Listen. I know you don't do politics, that's Kote and Honjo's thing, but for the love of all that is holy, don't do anything about the Reserves until you get a chance to talk to me and then Kote. Also Kote told me to tell you that she needs some information on hitobashira, so if the temple archives have anything about them, especially magical versions of it, dig it out and give her a call so she can go over it with you."

Toku frowned at the note of concern in Fudo's voice. "I... see. I just got back early this morning, and am still unpacking and will be talking to my superiors here. I should have this afternoon free if you wish to come over and have dinner. I'll have to buy groceries though."

Fudo laughed. "Hold that thought. I'll treat you out to a welcome-home meal for dinner tonight. No need for even you to cook after all that you have been through."

Toku smiled, "I confess that would be pleasant to do. Call me when you are on the way to pick me up?"

Another horn blast sounded then Fudo came back on the line. "Traffic's picking up so I'll have to go soon. Just..." A hesitant pause before the tanto spoke again with a note of caution in her voice. "I saw the photograph from Verdun as you prepared to go into combat Toku-chan. It was in the magical papers here. I'm sorry that I was not there to fight alongside you and..." another hesitant pause. "If you ever need to talk, I'm always here for my imouto."

Toku wiped tears from her eyes as she understood the unspoken message. "I understand and I have unburdened myself to Co-chan and some others who fought alongside me there. If my beloved Fudo-oneesan wishes to hear my tale, I shall of course tell it, although..." Her eyes shadowed at the flashes of memory as she paused before resuming in a melancholy voice. "It is a dark tale and I make little sense of it."

Fudo made a sound of agreement. "Battle is often like that. I... should tell you about my first experience, perhaps. It can bring perspective and some measure of acceptance to the survivors. I..." A deep sigh and tears in her sister's voice. "I wish that I could have shielded you from what you endured there."

Tears trickled down Toku's cheeks. "As do I, Fudo-nee. As do I."

---------------------------------

After the end of her conversation with Fudo, Toku took her refilled tea cup to the porch to contemplate the temple's rock garden behind her dojo. She knelt in seiza with the cup in both hands, letting the heat of the tea warm her hands as she slowly sipped it and contemplated the steam rising from the cup and the patterns of the drifting tea leaves in the liquid as the first drops of rain fell.

She had not comprehended before now how much of Fudo's stifling protectiveness was formed by her sister's desire to protect her from the cruelties of war that had scarred her soul in turn.

Unbidden, rising from the steam of the tea and the patter of raindrops on stone, she remembered a conversation seventy years in the past here during the spring of 1942....

"Tokunotakai-sensei." The hawk-faced young man in the uniform of an Imperial Japanese Army Officer knelt beside her at the miko's gesture.

"Gorōta-kun." Toku responded as she poured the tea for them. "It warms my heart to see an old student and a good friend. Congratulations upon your promotion to Captain."

He sipped the tea with a bow of his head. "I truly do not deserve it, but my superiors disagree, so what am I to do but humbly accept?" The note of melancholy caused Toku to mentally frown.

"You seem troubled in spirit, Gorōta-kun. Your balance is missing. What can your sensei do to help you regain that which you have always had before."

He hesitated. "Sensei, you have always taught me that while we are blessed and unique among nations, true heroism, true honor, true bushido is not unique to us but can be found in the other nations, who are as strong in their own ways as we are in ours."

A flash of the memory of a heartbroken face under bloodstained and mud-spattered blond hair filled Toku's mind as she nodded. Her memories remembered the moment as the gaijin rapier spirit turned to leave the Hachimangū in obedience to her oath despite the agony that it would cost her for decades. Along with the sad words that were said to her by the Lord of Eight Banners as she watched the defeated but not dishonored form of Colombe du Chasteler descend the stairs in obedience to the demands of her honor.

"Who has a better understanding of The Way of Bushido, the miko who studied it her whole life without acting upon it, or the gaijin who had never set foot in The Land of the Gods before this year, and yet refuses to compromise herself or quit fighting for what she sees as right no matter the cost to her?"

Her lips moved and she responded after a sip of her tea. "That is correct, Gorōta-kun. Your sensei is pleased that her pupil remembered one of his lessons."

He sighed, "A lesson which I have had reinforced in China. We win victory after victory and yet they fight all the harder." He paused and looked into his cup, clearly measuring his words. "How can I prove myself as worthy of Fudo-chan in truth if I am the inferior warrior on the battleground? I see my men fall around me and mourn them. I hold their hands as they die and I weep. And I know that this weakens me. The way of the warrior is death, and yet I love life too much."

Toku did not know what to say. She knew that Tokugawa Gorōta had strong feelings for the spirit of her sistr Masamune-no-Fudo, the tanto who was sworn to the service of his branch of the mighty and honorable Tokugawa Clan. She even approved in her inmost heart their budding relationship, seeing in her prize pupil a warrior of honor and legend, perhaps a reborn hero of the Warring States who would inspire generations of schoolboys to follow his example of bushido. Truly he was a man who was worthy to wield the peerless steel forged by the Pure Smith Masamune.

She hesitated, feeling her inadequate experiences as a sheltered shrine maiden as never before. Finally she spoke. "Gorōta-kun. As you know I cannot speak to the battlefield, for I have never truly drawn my steel in honorable victory with my death a heartbeat away. Save that I know that there is a path for you to achieve that honorable victory that you desire to prove your worth to yourself. I shall pray to Hachiman-no-kami when I participate in the yabusame tournament in four days time that He shall provide a path for you and my sister to consummate your true love and wed. All I can say once more is that I know in my steel and my soul that you are indeed worthy of the love of my elder sister."

His lips twitched as he drained his teacup and looked at the garden. "I wish I shared your confidence. But all I have learned is that war is a cruel, bitter, hideous affair with none of the honor of my boyhood stories and dreams. I will never subject Fudo-chan to such, for I truly fight to defend her."

Toku finished her teacup and paused, measuring her words. "Gorōta-kun. Fudo-nee will be visiting the shrine to watch me participate. She has spoken to me that her thoughts have frequently turned to the second son of the Owari Tokugawas in her loneliness and," the miko blushed, "she perhaps has the insight in her arms that I lack in my words."

Gorōta blushed scarlet. "I... would not know where to begin, sensei! I have not even taken advantage of the comfort women in the military brothels! Some pillow books, yes, but..."

Toku's own cheeks pinked, "I fear that your sensei cannot help you there. Save to say that she believes that her sister is likewise equally inexperienced and waiting to relieve that inexperience in the arms of the man whom she loves so deeply. If nothing else, Honesty is one of the Virtues of Bushido as I have taught you, as is Compassion and Courage. As my sister Musashi would say, the Way exists in all things."

---------------------------------

The ringing of her telephone caused Tokunotakai to stir from her memories of the past. She drained the now cool cup of tea and headed to the kitchen. She picked up the phone and spoke as she began to pour a third cup of tea.

"Moshi moshi?"

The voice on the other end of the line was that of a teenage boy with a cawing undertone.

"Tokunotakai-sensei? I need to speak to you." A pause as the teacup filled. "You may not remember me, but I remember you and how you gave me the advice that I needed before. Or... one of the men that I was in my past life remembers you."

Toku's eyes filled with tears at the next words as the memory of that voice resounded in her soul. "I am Uesaka Yoichi, but you knew me as Tokugawa Gorōta...."

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Courtship in Emerald (XXVI)

Blind Pig Speakeasy, New York City

May 24th, 1946
Spoiler: Del And Ben

Delilah de Breuil gave a happily smug smile at the sight of Ben Arnold entering the speakeasy. "Ben, I'm glad that you could make it!" She felt the reassuring solidity of her true body in the concealed shoulder holster as he entered, and set down the last of her glass of watered-down Gigglewater.

The disguised Shayṭān walked over with a knowing smile on his lips and kissed her wrist as she stood. "For you, I'll be happy to make time, Del."

Delilah grinned. "I made arrangements to reserve a private upstairs room. I suppose I will have to read in the New York Ghost that I'll be the next in a long list of your romantic conquests."

He took her elbow, and her eyes narrowed as she felt her skin crawl as she realized that he had coincidentally pinned her gun arm. "Lead the way please, Del."

She headed upstairs, and then fished in her purse to unlock the door. The room beyond had a table with a bottle of spirits in a bucket of ice set up and two already full glasses. "Very nice, Del." His wand moved and privacy wards formed.

Then his eyes turned sooty red. "Such a fool that you are..." he hissed as his grip on her gun hand began to burn.

Delilah's eyes widened in apparent shock. "Ben, what are you doing?"

He forced her back to bump against the table and his voice began to roil. "What I should have done a long time ago. You always were calling yourself as better than me, always in my way. What's the matter, Del?"

He laughed cruelly as his teeth became more pointed. "Cat's got your tongue?"
Spoiler: Shayṭān Vs Revolver

Delilah raised an eyebrow as her scrabbling hand found the bottle of cherry schnapps. Her voice was ice cold and filled with a calm smug glee. "Actually, I did owe you a drink."

He laughed as his grip on her wrist burned her and an aura of flame surrounded him. "Defiant to the last, child of mud...."

She swung the bottle to shatter against his shoulder with a nasty smirk on her face. "Checkmate, Sucker."

With a flash, the disguised Portkey discharged as it shattered.

Sákpe Mázasu Pteyúha (Six Bullet Ranch)

Black Hills, Southwestern South Dakota, USA

As the two staggered from their long-distance Portkey travel, Delilah lashed out with a knee to the crotch and then used the momentary weakening of his grip to roll free across the bare granite of their arrival point past a campfire. that barely illuminated the shadowed ground.

Delilah flipped to one knee as her hands blurred into her blouse and came out with her revolver and wand leveled. "Time to meet your maker, Ben. Or perhaps I should use your true name. Gaumâta." Her voice was frigid and her eyes were two chips of green ice in her smugly grinning face.

The Shayṭān's eyes widened in surprise. "You know! How?!" They then became burning slits and he gestured "Tell me and I will give you a swift death, otherwise, you burn!"

Flame surrounded Delilah and then vanished as the campfire suddenly roared to four times the height of a man. The dancing flames illuminated the circular granite hilltop that they stood upon.

A hilltop that over the last week Delilah and Jezabel had carefully carved two interlocking equilateral triangles within a bounding circle into. Trenches that in turn had been filled with pure snowmelt water while the rock surface had been equally carefully stripped of anything that could burn save the campfire logs.
Spoiler: The Seal Of Solomon


A hilltop that had been turned into a trap for a Law-Breaker as it symbolized and was enchanted as the seal given by God to King Solomon to rule over the tribes of the Jinn.
Spoiler: Ifrit And Shayṭān

As the campfire flames subsided, they formed into Zamarad aibnatu Alnaar, who stared with fiery seething loathing at the rogue jinn as she walked to Delilah's side. The Ifrit spoke in a voice as harsh and powerful as the man-made firestorm that had obliterated downtown Tokyo just over a year ago. "We know, Law-Breaker. Your crimes end here!"

Dark fire poured from his hands in response, only to slam into a shield of brilliant emerald flame with a roar that shattered the heavens.

Delilah ignored the blasts of flame as the jinn fought in a duel to the death as she concentrated on the spell that she was weaving. She began to chant in Arabic in time with her wand motions, "Ya rahim aldhy yamnah alsiyadat ealaa qabayil aljini..."

The Shayṭān's eyes widened as a second voice from outside the circle sounded as Jezabel chanted in turn. The binding ring on her finger glowed with a golden aura as her voice and wand joined her daughter's in the enchantment. "...al'iifraj ean Zamarad min alsiyadat alhalbat li'iiedadih lialmakhalif lilqanun..."

The Shayṭān flung a hand at the elderly witch, and a bolt of flame flew forth, only to extinguish as it reached the water. Delilah's voice soared as a set of glowing golden shackles appeared at Zamarad's wrists, ankles and neck and began to shatter. "...yaqif alkharij ean alqanun 'amamak fi euyun Allah subhanah wataealaa liahkum ealaa jarayimih walkhiana..."

"NO!" The Shayṭān screamed and gestured at the revolver as the shackles began to form on his own limbs and neck. He pointed at Delilah's revolver body and screamed. "Explode!"

Delilah's lips curled in triumph as flames danced over her true body to no avail. "...qum biribtih 'iilaa al'abad fi alhalbat almueadat lah, ya Allah!"

With a hideous despairing scream, a shape of dark flame writhed as it was pulled out of Benedict Arnold's body. It howled in hatred, terror, and fury as chains of golden light connected it to the ring on Jezabel's finger. Burning red-black eyes of flame looked at the smugly smiling Delilah and the Shayṭān hissed in fury. "I curse you and yours to a barren womb and an early tomb, Child of Mu---"

Dark flame surrounded Delilah and then suddenly extinguished as a pure white aura that shed no shadows formed around her. To Zamarad, the spirit surrounding and sheltering Delilah seemed like a great white buffalo cow at one moment and a beautiful Indian girl the next. A voice with the power in it of a million-strong stampede sounded. "Not my Medicine Woman, interloper. I sentence you to the eternal hospitality of my kinswoman Awaeh Tegendji in the Great Sea!"
Spoiler: Aftermath

The Shayṭān trembled under the disgusted gaze of White Buffalo Woman and then vanished into the ring on Jezabel's finger. The elderly witch staggered briefly then surveyed the Shayṭān prisoner with an expression of disgust. "Hush you. I made my choices a long time ago and have been paying the price willingly ever since. Tempt someone else." Her voice was commanding and stern.

Delilah walked over to the semiconscious Ben who was whimpering with no sanity in his eyes. Delilah sighed and waved her wand over him as the weary Zamarad walked to her side. "Obliviate!" the wizard curled into a ball and quietly moaned.

Zamarad gestured at the revolver in Del's hand. "It did not explode. But he struck you with his powers so how?"

Delilah laughed and hugged her love around the waist, then opened her cylinder to reveal that she was unloaded. "Look, love, no gunpowder. It was a calculated risk, but I suspected that he would try for the gunpowder rather than to melt me with all the flameproofing and cooling spells I wove into my steel."

She looked at Ben's broken expression and sighed. "At least I can tell myself that the man I knew died a long time ago, and I am only putting him out of his misery and giving his family a body to bury. One more casualty of this war that I serve in. Damn it."

Zamarad hugged Deliah as Jezabel evaporated the water in the trenches to join them. Jezabel walked to the other side of Delilah and hugged her daughter in turn. The Ifrit whispered. "You would not do things differently if you knew how this would end up?"

Delilah sighed as she took the offered ring from her mother and shook her hand as she closed her fist around the prisoner. "No, not really. Maybe some minor things, perhaps. But I had to do what I did, and the end result is your freedom from those who enslaved an innocent. It was the price of liberty that we have paid, and will continue to pay, because it is worth the cost." Delilah's voice was sad and introspective.

Zamarad placed a hand on Delilah's cheek so that the Muramasa could look into her flaming emerald eyes. "And that is why I love the woman that I shall marry, Delilah Naomi de Breuil. Because you are a true hero, one who puts others before herself, and willingly pays the price that your beliefs in what is right and good demand of you."

She leaned closer and whispered to Delilah in the second before their lips met. "And that greatness of spirit is a powerful flame that shall sustain me and my daughters forevermore, my love."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Taking a sip of her bubble tea, and chewing on a tapioca pearl from it, Okita glanced towards Harry who she noted was having a silent conversation with Natsumi. Something that made her raise her eyebrows a little internally. Back during her previous life, she, though back then it had been "He", had known people who could have silent conversations among themselves. Best friends, close siblings, and couples as well. However, said people had grown close over years and through shared tough experiences. So to see an example now? In two teens?

It spoke of quite a bit to her.

Part of her, that which adored curling up with a good mystery novel, was intrigued by it. After all, one had to wonder how the two had forged such a bond. There was more to it other than the two being friends, and perhaps shifting into a more romantic relationship. Okita truly wanted to know more about it, especially as it would fill in the mystery of who Harry truly "Was". Her, Nobu, and Uesugi all suspected that he was magical, but... nothing confirmed. But there was enough similarity between his looks and one Ian Potter, who she had known only from Tokugawa Shogun Onmyouji that had met him, that she wondered.

After giving it some brief moments of thought, however, Okita shook it off. She would find out, in time after all. No reason to rush quite yet, and it was not like her and the others did not have their own secrets. Perhaps though, they would know one day, on both sides. Despite not seeing him that often recently, she always felt that he was someone who could be trusted. That if you became a friend, Harry would rather die than betray you. Something that she knew Nobu felt as well, what with them wishing Harry had been among his forces so long ago.

Rather than focus on that as she took note of something else and raised an eyebrow, "What's in the case, Harry-San?"

Blinking at her, Harry glanced down at the case in question before suddenly smiling, "Oh, this?" At her nod, he rubbed the back of his neck, "It's a Bokken that I got for Christmas. I thought that I would show it to you as well as Uesugi-San since the two of you are the top Kendoka at our school."

Moments later, the British born boy blinked as the two girls in question had pinkened cheeks. But before he could question it, Nobu huffed a bit, "Hey! What about me? I'm as good at Kendo as Okita-Chan is!"

Somewhat amused, Harry gave her a shake of his head, "Well, you don't often show up for Kendo. Not to mention that you don't like other blades."

Nobu frowned at that and scratched the back of her head, "Can't be helped, I suppose. There's really only one blade for me and... never mind." Waving off Harry's interested look, she grinned, "Besides which, not using one myself does not mean that I cannot take a look at someone else's blade and compliment them on it."

Rubbing her chin, Okita glanced at Uesugi and nodded, "We have a space in a nearby park where Uesugi-Chan and myself practice. If you want, we can go there."

At that, the lone Nekomata spoke up, "I'm good for that. Besides, I'm sort of interested in what sort of Bokken it is myself." Seeing the looks, Rika shrugged, "One of my male cousins teaches Kenjutsu back home. Pretty good at it as well."

Each of the disguised Yokai had their lips twitch a bit at that as they could well remember said cousin and had the same thought, 'Considering that he was one of the last students of Miyamoto Musashi, that's not surprising.'

Needless to say, they began to follow Okita as she lead them towards the park in question. Glancing at Harry, Uesugi tilted her head some, "How long have you been practicing with the Art, Harry-San? From what I remember, you didn't used to practice it."

Just scratching the back of his neck, Harry lightly blushed some, "Not as much as I should is my guess. But... I started learning the very basics back in December with a pretty good teacher. A really good one... about, maybe, four hours a day?" Seeing the raised eyebrows from the three reincarnated warriors, his flush deepened, "Two hours in the morning and two at night with the morning being practicing the forms and the night being sparring." Internally, he grimaced, 'Well, more like eight hours with the time turner...'

Quickly doing some calculations, Uesugi adjusted her glasses some, "Hmm... that is a decent amount of time for a beginner, I suppose." Her lips twitched a little and curled upwards, "Perhaps a practice match?"

The Wizard gave her a look before commenting in a dry tone, "I get my arse kicked on a routine basis alone." A shudder went through him and he shook his head as he grumbled to Natsumi's agreement, "Maeda-Sensei is harsh."

Unnoticed by him, Okita's, Nobu's, and Uesugi's eyes all widened a touch at that.

Meanwhile, Harry just continued, "Anyways, I started to learn it because, well... Juuchi Yosamu as well as Tsukiakari no Suzu are my family blades. And I don't want to dishonour them by having them and not knowing how to use them."

After a few seconds, Okita gave him a proud smile, "That is a very good reason, Harry-San. One should always honour one's blade after all..." There was a wistful look on her face, "They are as much a part of you and your soul as you are a part of theirs."

While not quite understanding why she seemed so melancholic, the thirteen year old Magical simply nodded. Nobu, meanwhile, placed her hands behind her head, "Is that all you know? Because I heard that you knew other means of fighting."

Only blinking at that, Harry turned to her and gave a shrug, "Can't he helped." At hearing her catchphrase, Nobu laughed, "But... I know how to use a knife if that is what you mean."

Having recovered from her despair, the lone Inugami looked at him curiously, "Wait, you know how to fight with a knife, Harry-Chan? Really?"

Just nodding, the British born teen smiled, "Hai, I do. Was taught by some marines how to do so and have some knives of my own. Likely never going to use it, but... I know it. Same with how to shoot a gun, handguns and rifles in particular as Aunt Arizona taught me."

Eyes closed, Nobu rubbed her chin in thought as she hummed, "Interesting... and useful! Ha!"

Simply glancing at each other, everyone just shook their heads in amusement.

It did not take them long to reach their destination and the non-reincarnated teens looked around the small clearing. Around it, one could find trees rising upwards while, along one side, a small brook burbled as the water within flowed past. As for the grass itself, it was not that tall, and looked freshly mowed. Seeing the look, Uesugi shrugged some, "We mow it once a month as it is where we practice outside."

Okita gave her a nod of agreement before turning towards Harry with a look of interest on her face, "Could we see your Bokken now, Harry-San?"

Blinking for a moment as he had forgotten why they were even there, Harry put the carrying case down, "Ah, right. Just one moment..." Unlatching the clasps holding the case shut, he opened it to reveal the Bokken laying there. With a nod, the thirteen year old picked it up in one hand, "There we go."

Unseen by him, Rika, Usagi, and Kaku all flinched a little at seeing the blade and frowned. The Tanuki having similar thoughts to the other two, 'Why is that blade leaking a bit of miasma? And one containing bloodlust and battlelust...?'

For his part, the thirteen year old wizard simply held it out for Okita to examine alongside Uesugi and Nobu. Eyebrows raised, Nobu glanced at him in interest before turning her eyes back to the wood, "What sort of wood is this?"

Lips curling a bit, Harry gave a small shrug, "Royal Oak as a matter of fact, which can be considered something of a national tree for Britain. The trees itself was about eight hundred years old at the least."

That got a low whistle from the genderbent Warlord. Uesugi, however, just nodded as she examined it, "Is the wood strong though? I assume that being oak, it is, not to mention the age of the wood."

Simply nodding, Harry rubbed his thumb along the hilt of the Bokken, "Hai, a very strong wood."

Head tilted to the side, Okita's eyes roamed the wood of the blade. She could see the whirls and the like from the ancient tree on it. To her practiced eye, however, she noted something else, "You just maintained it today, didn't you?"

Despite being surprised, the thirteen year old wizard still nodded, "I did as a matter of fact." At the question of how, he shrugged, "Once a month I run a soft cloth along it to clean the blade. Then work at fixing any damage that could be on it, before finally using boiled linseed oil with a drop or two of blood orange oil added to it. Does a good job."

Nodding as she placed her hands in her pockets, Uesugi smiled a bit, "Hai, it does at that. And it is good that you keep a good amount of maintenance for your weapon. One must keep their weapon in very good condition." A scowl crossed her face as she shook her head, "Okita-Chan and myself? We have seen far too many bakas mistreat their Bokkens and Shinai. And then they act shocked when they break or splinter! No pride whatsoever in their duties, none!"

With a glance to her friend, Okita gave Harry a smile and patted his shoulder, "That means that, like myself, she is impressed with you, Harry-Chan."

A distant look in her eyes, Nobu sighed, "Yeah, a properly maintained weapon is a good weapon that will see you through the worst and protect you always." Much to their surprise, there was a fond smile on her face, like she was remembering something, 'Ah, I remember all the times I maintained your true self, Kote-Chan. It made you always so pleased by it and enjoyed myself applying the choji oil to your blade...'

Over in Tokyo, a certain Breadknife paused in her work and flushed deeply as for some reason old memories bubbled up. It took her a few minutes to get herself under control and get back to work. Thankfully, no one caught her little incident... for them, that is.

Back in the park, Okita hummed a bit before looking at Harry and bowing slightly, "May I have the honour of holding it, Harry-San? To see how it feels?"

Upon seeing Harry hesitate, she internally smiled a bit at the reaction. If anything, it made her respect him a little bit more. But he just held out the Bokken, "Here you go, Okita-San."

The light haired girl gave a nod as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt. She did raise an eyebrow as she felt... something. Glancing at Nobu, her mind went to all the times that she wanted to hit her before she shook it off, 'That's... odd.' Internally shrugging though, she went into a stance and took a deep breath before bringing the Bokken down into a strike, "HA!" Bit by bit, she went into more and more advanced movements until the Bokken was a blur. Finally, Okita came to a stop with her taking deep breaths. Looking down at the Bokken, she smiled before handing it back to Harry with a bow, "Thank you, Harry-San. It is a good blade. An excellent balance to it as well."

Bemused, Harry bowed back as he took the Bokken, "Thank you, Okita-San, though I knew that already."

Lightly chuckling, Okita looked towards Uesugi and tilted her head. After a moment, the other girl nodded and so Okita turned back to Harry, "If you wish, Harry-San, you can join Uesugi-Chan and myself for morning practice. It helps centre the mind after all for the day ahead."

Widening his eyes, Harry looked between them, "Really? I mean..."

Uesugi gave him a small nod and smiled, "Hai, we mean it, Harry-San. Besides the fact that it gives us a sparring partner, one can learn more from teaching than just practicing the motions. And you wanting to do honour to your family's blades is very impressive." She gave a small shrug and gestured at Nobu, "Sometimes, Nobu-Chan joins in with us, so we always have an extra Shinai with us. Just know that we will not go easy on you."

All Harry did though was grin and bow, "Hai, but that does not bother me."

Laughing Nobu slapped her knee, "It can't be helped, I knew that I liked you for a reason!"

In return, the messy haired boy shrugged.

Just shaking her head, Okita suddenly became thoughtful, "Harry-San?" At his sound of acknowledgement, she made a motion with her hand, "How about you show us some of the stances and such. We have the time after all."

Giving it some thought, Harry smiled and went into a stance with his Bokken in his hand, "Sure."

The three reincarnated swordsmen, now teenage girls, simply watched in interest as the messy haired boy went though stance after stance, move after move. Adjusting her glasses, Uesugi gave a slight smile as she glanced at Okita, "Very rough. But..."

Nobu sipped some of the last of her bubble tea, "Rough, but it is there. Given time, he'll learn and polish up, though it will be years before he can be called a Master of the Blade." Her voice powered a little bit, "Still, better than some of the fools I've seen. He at least understands one needs to maintain their sword and also get the basics down."

Arms crossed, Okita just gave a nod of her own, "Agreed. We've all taught a few people the basics after all."

Then, she gave a shrug and walked over to Harry as she noted a flaw in his stance. A quick tap on his leg, and he fixed it before testing it out. With that done, and a nod, he moved to the next stance.

Eventually though, they did leave the park and when the group split off, Nobu noticed something and held up her hand, "One sec!" Rushing off, she soon returned and tossed something to Harry, who easily caught it, "Here, for your Bokken."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry looked at what he caught and had to smile a little. It was one of those cheap charms, in this case being a fox, "Really? You want me to put it on my Bokken?" At her grin and nod, he frowned, "Isn't that bad manners though?"

When he glanced at Okita, he blinked as said girl had a thoughtful look, "Well, you're not going to be using it in competition, right?" She waited for him to nod before continuing, "I don't see why not, it's up to you."

Once more looking at the charm, he considered it before shrugging, "I'll think about it..."

For her part, Nobu shrugged, "Eh, I figured that it would be a little bit neat. Like that Shinai from that video game series..."

All they got was headshakes, eye rolls, and chuckles as well as sighs.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

The Butterknife of November (A Courtship in Emerald Epilogue)

The Pinnacles, Isle Royale National Park

Isle Royale, Michigan, USA

September 23rd, 1946
Spoiler: The Ghosts Of Gitchi Gumi

The North Wind in the trees howled and screamed as it ripped across the fourth-largest lake island in the world. Just as the storms of fall and winter had for uncounted millennia as Earth stood solidly in the way of the furious might of Water and Air.

Delilah de Breuil, clad in sturdy hiking boots, a thick wool mackinaw checked shirt, heavy blue jeans, and a knit cap made her way over one of the trees felled by the hurricane-force winds that were raging from this storm formed on the largest freshwater lake in the world.

She muttered to herself through near-frozen lips. "Fall equinox she told me. Well I should have checked my Farmer's Almanac because it's definitely stormy today."

Free me.

Her lips twisted in a smug smile. "No. I won't miss you. You are a boring conversationalist anyway. Always free me and I'll give you wealth, power, shooting people in the face. You never understood what makes humans tick, beside our basest desires, I suppose. What I desire you cannot give me anyway."

She slipped on the other side, her boot landing in a hole carved in the rock where thousands of years ago the ancestors of the Ojibwe people had crossed the thirteen miles of water in canoes to tear the purest natural copper in the world from the veins in rocks of the island.

All of them had made the trip knowing the risks of the treacherous and cruel lake that they called Gitchi Gumi, "Great Sea". For the depths of her bottom were littered with the bones of the countless dead who she had claimed by wave and wind, fog and reef to rest in her freezing-cold depths over a hundred fathoms below her violent surface.

"Dammit, that hurts." Delilah groused at the pain in her ankle as she finally reached the cliffs above the storm-lashed waves. Even here, a full fifty feet above the storm-tossed waters below, spray broke over her from the waves slamming hatefully against the granite stone of the island.

She grabbed several downed branches and leaves and stacked them in a hollow carved by some long-ago shaman or prospector and then pulled out her wand and medicine pouch from under her shirt.

A golden ring on a necklace followed. In the carved ruby gem, a dark flame writhed and hammered at the spells binding it.

You! What are you doing, Child of Mud!

Delilah's lips curled in a nasty smug smirk as she finished her preparations. "Calling someone for you to meet. Incendio!" The fire ignited with a flash of magic and she sprinkled tobacco leaves that she had personally hand-gathered bound with various magical herbs into twists into the flickering flame.

As the first of the offering was consumed into whipping smoke lashed by the storm winds, she began to chant in the throaty sounds of Ojibwe. "Waabanoowi-zaaga`igan, niizhwaaswi. Mino dibikad..."
Spoiler: The Witch Of November

As she finished, there was a brief, almost shocked calm in the storm and then the wind and wave redoubled their furious motion, howling savagely. Delilah grinned in smug triumph and pulled the necklace containing the trapped Shayṭān over her head to hang from her right hand.

"Which Child Of The First Peoples Calls Upon Me!?" The powerful voice carried on the storm winds was that of an old crone filled with a cruel dark glee, and the storm clouds in the sky began to shift and build. The storm formed into a gray-black cloak covering a hooded figure with her eyes formed from flashes of lightning and her staff in her crooked hand became a white-gray waterspout formed from the lake.

Delilah stood, holding the necklace with the ring in her outstretched hand as she shielded her eyes from the fury of the storm with the other. "It is I, Delilah Naomi de Breuil-Muramasa. Ptesanwi humbly greets her elder sister." The howling wind tore her words from her throat.

"Speak Then!" The rock shuddered as a wave slammed into it and snow and sleet began to fall horizontally carried on the Witch's icy breath as the storm redoubled its fury.

Delilah carefully made her way the the very edge of the cliff where she then stood against the storm. Spray, sleet and rain lashed her and froze into ribbons of ice. "She wishes for me to give you a present, Great Awaeh Tegendji. The Creature of Fire imprisoned here has been sent to your care."

CHILDREN OF MUD, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK ABOUT ME, A PRINCE OF THE CHILDREN OF FIRE!! CRAWLING WORMS AND MAGGOTS, KNEEL BEFORE YOUR BETTERS!!

A gust of wind caressed the wildly flickering gemstone on the ring as the trapped Shayṭān suddenly cried out in flaming rage and fear as it received the full attention of the other spirit present. Lightning flashed and sparkled under the hood of the Witch.

The cruelly sadistic laughter that the wind brought to her ears next caused Delilah to blanch in primal terror. "A Fresh Pet Then... Very Well Delilah Naomi De Breuil-Muramasa! I Accept Your Gift To Me As A Medicine Woman Of My Sister!" The laughter of the storm and wave became insanely gleeful possessive cackling that sent a chill down Delilah's steel spine as she felt the Great Spirit that she had summoned coil itself like a predator ready to strike and kill.

A gust of wind ripped the heavy wool knit cap from Delilah's head and flung her chestnut hair around her face like the lashing of a whip. The Shayṭān screamed in redoubled terror as it understood the doom that was now at hand.

A wave, greater than all the ones previous, hammered the rock and the Muramasa staggered as it broke and foamed around her ankles. As she did, her fingers loosened on the necklace and tendrils of wind and water ripped the ring from her grasp to fly sparkling into the heart of the lake. "Now Go Before I Change My Mind And Claim You Too!"

Delilah staggered back to a safe location to Apparate out as the merciless vicious delight of the Witch of November echoed in her ears in the booming of the waves and the howling of the winds. A faint distant counterpoint that she could pick up from time to time was the despairing curses, threats and pleadings directed at her and the Witch from the newest resident of the ice-water mansion at the bottom of Lake Superior.

A.N.-The Big Fat Muramasa Revolver Wedding Next

 

[darthcourt10]

Digital Historian

"Ben Ick van Duitsen Bloedt"
KMA Breda, The Netherlands
June 2nd, 2014

The Gathering of shipgirls in the large lecture hall of the Royal Military Academy in Breda was unprecedented. They had started to arrive weeks ago, their duties on stations being temporarily taken over by allied nations. They ranged in age from the Aeolus, flagship at the first naval triumph of the republic, to the ships that served in the great wars of the twentieth century. Those that had come from furthest away, De Ruyter from Australia and the O- and K-class submarines from the pacific, had arrived first, followed by all those that became available as they were taken off station. At least half of the current Dutch Kanmusu navy was crammed into the seats, excitedly chatting and gossiping. After all, some of those present had been recalled for the occasion from Asian postings that they hardly left, so there was finally time to catch up on family affairs. Which is why van Galen was listening to Abraham Crijnsen excitedly telling her about her visit to 'Big Sister Vaïna', the Finnish coastal defence ship the little minelayer had found kinship with.

"… So I was saying to her, do you like liquorice? So then she got out this bag of Salmiakki, and then …"

Van Galen noticed the little minelayer was the only one still talking as the room quieted when the main speaker revealed himself. She shushed the excited little ship before having her watchkeepers focus on the platform in front of the room.

Walking in was none other than the King himself, followed by the prime minister, and several other men in suits and uniforms. Van Galen recognised Admiral Zouthwater, who had replaced Admiral Schippers as head of the shipgirl fleet. While everyone else sat down, the Admiral remained at the lectern, checked everyone was present in the room, and nodded to the soldiers guarding the doors.

"Guards, seal the room." He gave a stern look to his audience: "Nothing of what will be discussed today may be shared with anyone outside this room, nor discussed outside of meetings dedicated to the subject; secrecy is paramount." This set some murmurs going, which were quickly quelled when the admiral continued. "Ladies, would you all make sure your entire crews hear what will be said next? Your Majesty, if you would, please?"

The entire room stood as the Monarch stepped up to the lectern. He exchanged a look with one of the suited men sitting to the side, before raising his hand to show an intricate silver ring with a large orange sapphire set into it. Oddly enough, the stone seemed to shine with a light of its own, and Van Galen felt a tingle running along her keel.

"To all assembled here, I speak as the prince of Orange and of Nassau, as Stadholder of the Netherlands. By this token, I am free and without prejudice. I declare that the protocols enacted by my ancestor, Maurice of Orange, are now in effect, and that the old arrangements sealed in blood trump the new sealed in ink."

A second man stepped up. "I am Mr. Veldhuis, Land's Advocate of Holland, holder of the office as direct successor of Johan van Oldenbarnenveld. I declare that the States-General have accepted the act of division of 1689 as rescinded. So the High and Mighty Lords have ruled."

For a second, all the shipgirls in the room felt confused. What was this whole thing for? What arrangements did he mean? Then, the heads of various parts of the ship's company began reporting in; crew members divulging their true nature to their shipmates. They had had magical crewmembers throughout their careers without any being the wiser. Not many of their returned fairies were wizards though. Van Galen had two, a stoker and a gunner's mate; Crijnsen had one, one of her navigation officers. The sailshipgirls, oddly, had many more, with Zeven Provinciën being able to form an entire division of magical sailors.

After the temporary ruckus had died down, a man in an old-style suit took the stage. "Thank you, your Majesty, Mr. Advocate. I am happy to confirm that the Magical Republic of the Netherlands stands ready to rejoin our common brothers. Preparations are underway, though with four hundred years of separation to be undone, they are progressing slowly. We are at the moment proceeding …"

Van Galen had, at this point tuned out the auditorium, and focussed her gaze inwards, to her bridge, where two of her fairies, Gunner's mate Willem Zeezwam and stoker Tobias Ravensveer were waiting for her. She fixed the duo with a glare as intense as one of her spotlights. "You two. Explain."

The pair looked at each other, before bombarding her with a flurry of 'hoi'. This did nothing to satiate the blondine's temper. "Not both at the same time. So when the magical population withdrew from the world in the late 1600's, the Dutch magicals didn't want to?"

'Hoi! Hoi hoi hoi. Hoi. Hoi hoi hoi."

She sighed. "Right. Because they fought together against the Spanish only years before they felt kinship, and because the Republic was tolerant of Heretics and Magicals they didn't feel the need to hide very hard. So why did they?"

The fairy Thomas frowned. "Hoi hoi hoi. Hoi hoi, … hoi." The two shared a grin: "hoi hoi!"

Despite herself the Destroyer smiled. "Clever. So to avoid being brought to heel by force in a war they knew they could not win they complied, but not by sealing themselves away fully, but making sure they would not stand out. As the statute said they should 'conceal themselves', they could lawyer about it. So they only hid where they had to, to give kids a place to grow up open about their magic until they could control it. And all this because hiding away would mean losing lost of money, and no one wanted that, because wizards were mainly tradesmen and traders, they didn't. So the Dutch Golden Age was brought about by magical traders making a killing off enlarged holds for ships carrying spices?"

"Hoi! Hoi hoi hoi hoi. Hoi. Hoi."

She had not known it was possible for the spirit of a 93-meter long ship to have a headache – but she suddenly felt an odd connection to shipgirl base commanders everywhere. Brushing that aside, se continued to interrogate the two now-revealed wizards. "So how did you end up on me, then?"

"Hoi hoi hoi. Hoi hoi."

The answer gave her a newfound respect for the magical world. A tradition to serve in the armed forces, to defend the country that had given their families refuge. Most went to the army, as it was somewhat easier to hide their nature in an infantry barracks as opposed to onboard a ship.

Dismissing the two sailors back to their post, she returned to the physical world, where the man [minister of magical affairs], her lookouts supplied, was winding down the ways in which the hidden communities were ready to merge back into mundane life – through an inordinate amount of bureaucracy. She almost snickered to herself, until the minister got to the reason they were being brought in the loop now. It made her blood run cold.

"The reason we are breaking this to all of you now is simple. Magical Germany is behaving erratically – and those are not words I whish I had to say. They have closed all borders and are said to be expelling foreign citizens. We all know what this led to last time around. With permission of his majesty as their commander-in-chief, the magical members that serve in the armed forces are deploying to be ready to counter any attack on our soil, but it might not be enough." His gaze passed over the room. "Ladies, we humbly ask your aid in the defence of the fatherland."

Silence was deafening for a moment, before a roar of ascent swept the room.
==================================================
Note: this is not cannon for anything until the Kaju sais it is; it is just intended to give him options to play with: either the soft landing envisioned by the Dutch Ministry of Magical Affairs sticks, or it doesn't.

My headcanon for Dutch magical society is based on the fact that the Netherlands was historically extremely tollerant of religious minorities: the general consensus was that everyone was free to choose to be wrong about faith, so long as they had cash to spend. (there are medallions from this era that read "Rather be Turkish instead of Catholic" from the hight of the war for independence: pragmatism overruled religion) This meant that Witch Hunts in the Netherlands were very tame (also, at their hight in europe we were, kind of, having that whole 'Spain is a d*ck'-thing going). The last recorded Witch to be excecuted was in Almelo in 1649, after which Fines and Banishments are the norm.* The former can be explained as the magical world policing itself, the latter as a way to take those that can't control their own magic (yet) into a safe space untill they are ready to do so.

* Source: Frijthof & Gijswijt (eds.) Nederland Betoverd: Toverij en Hekserij van de 14e tot 20e eeuw, Amsterdam 1987

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

It's My Wedding and I'll Butterknife If I Want To! (A Courtship in Emerald Epilogue)

Qalb ar-Rīšāt (Eye of The Sahara) French West Africa

June 21st, 1946
Spoiler: The Wedding Day

Delilah de Breuil smiled happily to the rest of her bridal party inside the tent reserved for their preparation. "Thank you for all coming for this." She felt her henna-dyed hands, layered with symbols and prayers for happiness in marriage twitch automatically with the stress of this moment.

Lyra Potter was grinning happily. The elderly witch was clad in a ruby red Victorian silk dress that had caused her sister Colombe's eyes to bulge and her to blush red as a tomato. There had to be a story there, Delilah knew it since surely the low-cut neckline could not have hit Colombe that badly, right?

Next to Lyra, Jacklyn was in her own low-cut blue dress in the style of the 1760s with the wide spreading skirts of court dress of that time. Delilah had it on her sister's authority that dress was a prize that she had captured off a ship sailing from Mexico back to Spain along with the emerald and silver necklace that Jacklyn was wearing.

On the other side, Colombe was dressed in turn in a matching light blue silk dress from the 1750s too, only hers was distinctly French in style. According to her sister, this was an inheritance that her Papa had willed to her as a young lady from the du Chasteler estate and that her oldest sister had selected as her formal dress to wear at weddings.
Spoiler: Colombe's Dress

Her mother, clad like her in a white Chanel dress made of pure white silk lace from the last decade instead of her normal mourning black smiled tearfully. "I just wish Norimune could be here today, dear."
Spoiler: Delilah's Wedding Dress

Delilah nodded, "So do I, Mother, so do I. At least we can show her the memories one day." Diamonds sparkled at her throat (a gift from Colombe) and ears (Jacklyn) as she took a deep breath and then nodded. "Well it's time."

With that they stepped to the carpet strewn with rose petals to make their way to the carriages that would carry them to the actual marriage site. Beside them, a group of jinni attendants picked up the golden cases inscribed with mother-of-pearl that held their true bodies in cushioned black velvet.

Delilah had raised an eyebrow as Colombe explained that the wedding was in large part for the jinn clans responsible to show off their wealth and power. She understood and accepted that intellectually. It did not change the fact that the gold-ornamented and jewel bedecked carriage holding her at the head of the bridal procession was being pulled by tamed NUNDU of all things! At least she hoped that they were tamed and docile! At least her sisters only had their carriages pulled by equally tamed lions, while the bridal procession was pulled by desert elephants.

She reassured herself as the carriage began to move that the Nundu pulling her past the colorful tents containing all the assembled guests were either tamed or the next wedding would have a hell of a lot less guests.

She whistled at the forest of colorful tents covering the circular rock formation that , she had heard, was observable from aeroplanes high overhead. as she spiraled through the tents clockwise, she reminded herself at that the same time Zamarad and her family would be doing the same from their starting point on the opposite end of the encampment. Clouds of thrown rose petals and germinated wheat (for good luck and fertility) filled the air, and as per the tradition she had been briefed on, she reached into the space expanded purses in the carriage and flung golden dinar coins engraved with her name and her bride's name to the onlookers. Behind her, Colombe, Jacklyn -- she hoped! --, Lyra, and Mother showered the crowds with silver coins.

Unbidden a happy smug smile curled her lips. This was actually quite fun.

Finally the procession reached the center of the Eye. An arch formed of flowering roses with a red carpet waited for her to dismount from the carriage and enter. Escorted by her mother, her sisters, and her friend she walked down to where the Imam waited to have her swear her undying loyalty to Zamarad in the eyes of Jinn, Mortal, and God.

-------------------------------------------

After that moment, the next step was to meet the guests to exchange rings in their sight. As the other bridesmaid, groomsmen, and family members Portkeyed out to the Faroukhay Palace which was doubling as a reception hall, she gave a smile to the veiled form of her love.

Zamarad's own dress was layer upon layer of emerald silk, each individual layer was transparent and in fact near-invisible, but the whole was alternately concealing and revealing her love's slim figure. Emerald eyes, glittered from atop her orange silk facial veil encrusted with pigeon's blood rubies, matching the silver earring heirloom that her mother had let her youngest wear for her wedding day, and the bridal tiara that had purchased her parents approval.

Delilah whispered as she extended her hand. "Time to make our grand entrance, love."

Zamarad's hand was hot in hers as the Ifrit smirked smugly behind her veil. "I can't wait."

-------------------------------------------

Faroukhay Palace, Beirut
Spoiler: Here Comes the Bride (And Bride!)

In the throne room, a double line of bare-chested Djinni marched inside, hammering a wild rhythm on the flaming drums that they carried with equally flaming drumsticks. Colombe smirked smugly as she swayed to the music then whispered to the others. "Now for the really spectacular part..."

The lights dimmed and the family members and guests lining the corridor began to juggle colorful fireballs back and forth as the drumming picked up a notch.

Suddenly the first set of fireballs closest to the door formed an arch of emerald fire and the crowd roared.

Now visible, Zamarad and Delilah were dancing down the corridor.

Zamarad spun, flexed, and writhed like a rope of living flame in time with the wildly hammering drums and musicians as Delilah matched her motions with a succession of dance steps from the ballroom waltzes that she had learned in the halls of MACUSA and Ilvermorny, to a tango that Colombe had taught her, to a sailor's hornpipe courtesy of Jacklyn.

Zamarad suddenly gestured to summon a scarf of emerald fire between her palms. She began to play with it as a prop as Delilah danced with her.

As they passed under each shower of fireballs, it morphed to another arch of green flame to mark their progress down the corridor.

Finally, still dancing, they reached the center of the floor in front of where Zamarad's parents and uncle sat enthroned at the apex of the steps. At the base rested a second divan-throne made of solid gold and encrusted with sparkling jewels.

The other guests began to dance in time with the bride and groom as the drummers circled them. Colombe shook her head fondly as she saw Jacklyn dancing arm in arm with two of Zamarad's male cousins, twins they were from the look of it.

The rapier leaned close to Lyra and whispered as they danced, "I told you that this would be a lot of fun, love."

Lyra gave a perverted grin, clearly thinking about story ideas, as the Revolver and the Ifrit danced together in the open area in front of everyone.

Zamarad suddenly reached up and unhooked her veil. She whirled it around over her head, the rubies which it had been embroidered with glittering in a stream of crimson light, then flung it blindly into the crowd to be caught by a lucky maiden who would be the next to wed according to tradition.

As the veil landed in the hand of an eligible Djinni girl whose sisters all congratulated her, Delilah curtsied to Zamarad and then and went to one knee before her wife.

The Muramasa gestured and a goblin silver ring containing a fire agate gemstone inscribed with the Seal of Solomon surrounding Delilah's full name in Islamic script appeared in her hand. The symbolism of Delilah binding herself to the wearer by the most powerful magical symbol known to the jinn was unmistakable. There was an impressed stir through the crowd at the sight.
Spoiler: Zamarad's Wedding Ring


Zamarad gasped with flaming tears of joy in her eyes as Delilah presented it to her. "{As we have been bound in the sight of God, Zamarad aibnatu Alnaar, so I bind myself to you eternally in the sight of the Children of Fire and of Earth, my love.}" Delilah said into the silence, as Zamarad slipped the ring on her finger and kissed it lovingly.

Zamarad then went to one knee as Delilah stood. The flame scarf that she had danced with solidified into a platinum and diamond ring that seemed to be frozen fire as it contained a large orange Imperial topaz which gleamed and flashed with the same fire that burned in her soul. "{As we have been bound in the sight of God, Delilah Naomi de Breuil, so I bind myself to you eternally in the sight of the Children of Fire and of Earth, my love.}"
Spoiler: Delilah's Wedding Ring

Delilah's tears of joy trickled down her cheeks as the ring slipped onto her finger, She then took Zamarad's hand and kissed her passionately after raising the Ifrit to her feet. "Forever, my love~" was whispered from two hearts beating as one. The crowd erupted and showered them with rose petals and germinated wheat calling blessings upon the union and wishes for many children.

-------------------------------------------

Now enthroned alongside Zamarad on the divan as they took a break to congratulate well-wishers and accumulate gifts, Delilah grinned at the wild celebration. Judging from the activity around the 'buffet line', the de Breuil contribution of various American hardwoods was very well received. She had overheard more than a few compliments for the redwoods, sugar maple, and American Chestnut in particular, along with remarks on Zamarad's good fortune to marry someone with such bounty for her table.

Even Jackie vanishing with those two Djinni couldn't dent Delilah's happiness. Much. She was sure Jackie would take precautions. Or she would have some piratical nephews and nieces in nine months, she supposed.

With that in mind, she glanced over at a throaty sultry giggle. Zamarad had just peeked inside a Japanese cherry-wood case that Lyra had given her as a bridal present. The glimpse inside caused Delilah's face to flame scarlet and she hastily jerked her eyes away from the... objects.... inside. And the apparent illustrated instructional book.

She would have to ask Zamarad about those. Later. Much later. In private.

Colombe was next and the rapier curtsied. "Congratulations, Zamarad, Del. I have something that you may enjoy." With that the Rapier pulled out an ivory scroll-case. "Something I picked up from a bazaar in Damascus in 1753. May you both find as much pleasure in it as I have."

Delilah looked up from unrolling the scroll as alarm bells sounded in her head. "Oh, Sis?"

Then her eyes tracked down to the now revealed scroll as Zamarad leaned over. Her stunned brain read 'The Tales Of 1001 Erotic Arabian Nights' numbly.

Colombe smirked smugly at her blushing little sister and finished. "I didn't translate it, so you will have to enlist Zamarad to help you with it. I'm sure she will be delighted to." Her eyes twinkled at the clear point scored in their continuing game of Muramasa one-upsmanship.

Zamarad agreed with her eyes sparkling as she hugged the stunned Delilah around the waist. "Indeed I shall translate and demonstrate for Shaelat ruwhi!"

A.N.-And that's a wrap!

 

[darthcourt10]

Snippet 127: Harry Leferts

Hiking boots hitting the cut stone stairs, Harry glanced around and blinked a bit as his eyes stung some from the suphuric fumes that filled the air. His nose, too, burned a little though more obvious was the heavy smell of rotton eggs that he could catch with every breath. Sometimes, the shifting of the wind brought a cloud of mist over the pathway and made him blink all the more, "It definitely deserves the name 'Great Boiling Valley' alright."

Beside him, Natsumi nodded some though she grimaced at the smell, "Hai." Under her breath, she muttered just loud enough for the thirteen year old to hear, "Thanks for that potion, Harry-Chan... it would be horrible to walk here without being able to put it under my nose."

From behind him, Ayaka sighed loudly, "Are you sure that there's no more positions, Natsumi-San? Because just for that..."

Loudly giggling at the glare the Kitsune gave the Inugami, Usagi grinned, "I would be tempted myself."

Facepalming, the fourteen year old Kitsune groaned, "You too, Usagi-Chan?" That only got Natsumi snickers before she shook her head and her nose twitched with a breath, "Still..."

With a glance towards her, Harry frowned slightly, "So the potion is working then?"

Softly smiling, Natsumi gave him a smile, "It is, though..." She grimaced a touch, "Just enough to make the smell bearable really. For a human, they wouldn't notice it."

Knowing about her much better sense of smell than he had, the teenage wizard only winced, "I suppose that it at least is something though." Getting a nod, they glanced at the rest of the class as they walked through the valley behind a guide, "Still... this place is rather impressive."

Just having walked up, Okita missed the earlier part of the conversation and caught that last bit, "Hai, it really is." Looking around at the barren ground, hot springs, and plumes of vapor coming from cracks and holes in the earth, "Desolate."

Hands in her pockets, Nobu shrugged a little bit, "I've seen more impressive, though it is something to see." At the looks from Okita and Uesugi, she frowned, "What? It's true."

That made Harry snort a bit before he shook his head, "Well... I've been a few places." Frowning, he had a considering look on his face, "Sort of reminds me of Phlegraean Fields."

Cocking an eyebrow, Nobu gave him a look, "Gesundheit."

Simply snorting, the messy haired boy shook his head but it was Natsumi who spoke up, "It's a giant volcano in Italy. There's portions this big in the giant caldera." She grimaced a little, "Though... parts of the city are inside of it as well."

For a few moments, everyone just stared at her. Wiggling a finger in his ear, Harry gave a small nod, "Hai, Naples as a matter of fact. Hundreds of thousands live inside the caldera. And because it's right on the shore, you can see it inflate and deflate over years as ruins and such get submerged or raised upwards via uplift." He frowned in thought some, "Aunt Roma also showed us Pompeii and Herculanium when Mum brought me to Italy with her due to business."

At that, the others blinked before glancing at each other and shrugging while wondering why someone would build a city in a place like they were in.

Unknown to him, several other students overheard him and boggled a bit before whispering to each other in stunned amazement. So not only did Harry apparently go to an exclusive school in the Scottish Highlands, he also went to Italy! And other foreign places as well!

Meanwhile, Nobu placed her hands behind her head as they continued to walk and looked at Okita, "So... once we're done with all this, are you going to be buying some of those black eggs?"

Glancing over at them, Kaku raised an eyebrow, "Black eggs? Do you mean the ones that they boil in the hot springs in the valley here? And which turn black due to the sulphur?"

Sheepish, Okita nodded, "Um, hai? And I am..." After a moment, she scratched her cheeks with a tinge of redness there, "They say that eating one will add seven years to your life."

A cackle made her turn to find the "Demon" grinning madly. Nobu then brought her hand up to her mouth before speaking in a stage whisper, "Last time we came here with our families when we were eight? Okita-Chan ate so many of those eggs she got sick! It just shot out all over the place. Just 'Blargh!' all over her Otou-San's shoes and-"

Utterly embarrassed, Okita rushed over and grabbed Nobu's cheeks and began to pulled them out, "SHUT UP, NOBU-CHAN!"

Cheeks pulled out, Nobu whimpered as she struggled, "Itai! Itai! That hurts!"

Eyes glowing in rage, the former Shinsengumi snarled, "IT'S SUPPOSED TO!"

Lips twitching, Harry snickered a bit in amusement as everyone else besides Uesugi shook their heads as they watched. Glancing at Natsumi, he shrugged, "How energetic."

The other former Warlord besides Nobu sighed and gave the other two a look, "Stop it, you're embarrassing yourselves."

Okita ignored her and merely switched from pulling Nobu's cheeks to placing her in a headlock as the other girl continued to struggle and flail.
_________________________________________________________

Sighing, Nobu leaned back into the hot waters of the hot spring as she listened with half an ear to the other students. Being as it was a mixed spring, all of them wore swimsuits, including herself. With a hum, she tilted her head back in thought. Having caught the movement, Uesugi raised an eyebrow at her friend, "Something on your mind, Nobu-Chan?"

With a slow blink, Nobu glanced at her before shrugging, "Just a few thoughts."

From where she sat on Nobu's other side, Okita muttered a bit, "Probably something perverted."

Bemused, the former warlord shook her head, "Actually, just thinking of what our former selves would think of this." At the confused looks, Nobu shrugged, "Imagine how we would have reacted, if our previous incarnations were here to see this right now."

Uesugi closed her eyes and simply hummed, "I would think that... mine and yours would have been confused. And likely beating some of our men for certain thoughts."

Humming, Nobu scratched her cheek, "Hai, most likely I would think. Some of them..."

That got a grimace from Okita before she considered the question herself and let out a breath, "In my case, likely confusion at what we were wearing, I would think. After all, mixed bathing was not a huge issue, though how swimsuits look it would... well..."

At that, the other two girls closed their eyes and nodded. Opening one eye, Nobu chuckled a little, "True, it would likely get a response." Suddenly, she grinned, "Though I would not mind seeing Kote-Chan and Kitsuno-Chan in swimsuits." Raising her hands, Nobu made a groping motion, "Especially in bikinis."

Eyebrow twitching, the pale haired former Shinsengumi growled as she flicked her friend in the side of the head, "Pervert."

Just shrugging, Nobu placed her hands behind her head, "Can't be helped, I am a teenager after all."

Uesugi gave her friend a long look before sighing, "You miss them in this life, don't you?" At Nobu's glance, she shook her head, "Kotegiri-San and Lady Kitsuno."

Okita blinked as Nobu's gaze became saddened, "Nobu-Chan?"

With a deep breath, the former Warlord nodded, "It's fine, Okita-Chan." Tilting her head back, Nobu looked up at the fluffy clouds, "And hai, I do miss them. Kami... I miss them both." Eyes closing, she felt a tear slip past her eyelids, "Kitsuno-Chan... she gave me beautiful children and was taken far too early. And I remember that night, simply sitting on my porch and... crying, as Kote-Chan held me close as she, too, wept. We used to look at her grave from our castle, that was why I had it placed there." Opening her eyes, Nobu gave a chuckle, "Those two... it is odd, but they were close and fit together far too well. Where Kote-Chan was steel, Kitsuno-Chan was soft silk. Kote-Chan was the rock to Kitsuno-Chan's river. That gentleness..."

Simply reaching over, Okita gave her friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze and made Nobu look at her. Understanding was in the former Meiji Era's swordsman's, now teenage girl's, eyes. On Nobu's other side, Uesugi did much the same as their friend gathered herself some.

Just nodding, Nobu rotated her shoulder a little before Okita's soft voice reached her ears, "Kotegiri-San is still around, you know. You could go and see her. And maybe Kitsuno will return as well."

There was something... brittle... about the smile on Nobu's face, "Hai, I could Okita-Chan. But... what would I say to her? It has been centuries since I left her alone and now she serves the Imperial Family. And I have no doubt that she does as good a job as she did when she served me all that time ago. Besides which..." She gestured at herself, "I'm not a male, Okita-Chan. No... it is perhaps for the best that I don't bother her with such."

About to say something, Okita caught Uesugi giving a slight shake of the head. Catching it, the Shinsengumi nodded. But it did not escape her notice that Nobu did not mention the possibility of Kitsuno. Though she could remember that one day a year, Nobu would become somewhat depressed and stare out at the night sky simply drinking tea.

Now... she had a suspicion why.

However, thankfully, two minutes later they noticed Natsumi smile brightly, "Hey, Harry-Chan."

More than one head turned and did a double take as Harry was there in swim trunks and a grin on his face, "Sorry about the wait, Natsumi-Chan." Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a number of female classmates turn redder and internally frowned, 'Huh... maybe it has to do with the hot spring?'

Before he could wonder much more about it, Natsumi patted the water beside her, "Come on in, Harry-Chan, beside me." Her inner Kitsune cackled at some of the glares she got from various female classmates as they kept looking at Harry. Though a part of her did note that the exercise and training that Hoshi was giving them both helped him out some... before shoving a voice that sounded suspiciously like Tamamo's back into the depths of her mind at some of the things it suggested, 'Stupid hormones...'

Not having known what went through Natsumi's mind, the British born teen slipped into the hot water and sighed a bit, "Now this is what I call nice. Best thing after all the walking that we did is soaking in a hot spring."

Lips twitching and snickering as Natsumi sided up a bit more to Harry, getting more grumbles and glares, Nobu shook her head as she had been making her way over with the others, "Hai, nothing like it." Once she was seated as well as Okita and Uesugi, she gave him a questioning look, "So ready for the group trip in two days?"

Harry chuckled at that and gave a small nod, "As a matter of fact? I am, Nobu-San. You?"

The former Warlord grinned and laughed a bit as she told him that they were ready as well.

 

[darthcourt10]

Shaithan

Headaches

Kicking a hornets' nest. That was the best way to describe happenings. The Archmage of Germany looked over dozens of papers detailing how deeply an unfortunate confluence of events had chucked everyone into trouble.

By itself, Kalthafen would have been a headache. Manageable, annoying to put down, but something one could deal with.

Canada summoning Halifax and causing magical quake could have been written off as an oddity, yet there were those that postulated that the quake had caused the second headache. Namely, Verdun. The reports had gone through so many redactions until they reached her office, it was a miracle they even spelled out that things had gone down in Verdun. Still, here it became apparent that timetables and plans had been grossly optimistic. Magical Germany had flat-out refused to help with that crisis. Not a new development, really, but coupled with their withdrawal from the ICW on the 6th of June, it had made everyone around Germany and even the Archministry go to brown alert.

The next days had confirmed that Magical Germany was not joking about their decision to live in splendid isolation and not letting foreigners stay in their country.

Looking over the reports, the Archmage cursed silently. Of course Germany's neighbors were worried. Were she a betting woman, she would have put money on this being the prelude for a new war. Thankfully, as far as her sources within Magical Germany were concerned, this really was what Magical Germany declared it to be. A retreat into isolation and an attempt to deal with realities many powerful people were very invested in not being real. Like the reality of the statute being on its last legs.

And in their infinite wisdom, the isolationists may just have given it the coup de grace. There were worrying reports from the borders. Wizards and sailshipgirls had been spotted near the borders and if reports were to be trusted, a lot of people there were arguing for an intervention in Magical Germany. Meanwhile, the Archmage's office was caught completely flatfooted and handled everything the wrong way, which was to say, they doubled down, unable to accept that their initial course of action may have been wrong. Classical sunk cost fallacy.

With the whole shitshow right now in their laps, Kalthafen would have to wait. Thankfully that hadn't been disclosed to anyone but the chancellor just yet. "Don't worry guys, we're dealing with the madmen at home. Also, just FYI, they lost control of a battlefleet they kept around for WWIII," would basically just reinforce the view that something needed to be done and an invasion was needed. And while watching the people currently in charge of Magical Germany getting blown up would have been incredibly satisfying, this wouldn't be a quick and precise operation, this would be messy, bloody and blow up the statute. This had to be avoided at all costs. And then there was the worrying silence of the two people who had gone off to inspect the harbor.

Looking up, the Archmage saw Preußen entering the room. "Frau Erzmagierin, the chancellor and the ambassadors are waiting for you," she said softly.

"Time to face the music then. Bloody fools making my job harder. Mark my words, whenever someone goes on how young people should steer the ship of state remind them that the Archmage that possibly killed the EU was 34," she grumbled, while straightening her robes.

Preußen gave the Archmage a laconic stare. "I am well aware of the damages young men with big egos can wreak," she gave back dryly.

The Archmage boggled before slapping her forehead. "Right," she said, remembering things.

The meeting room was in the midst of heated arguments, not just between the German diplomatic team and various ambassadors, the French ambassador and the French magical ambassador were among the few where the dispute was also between the magical and non-magical side of things.

Stepping to the dais in the middle of the room, the Archmage steeled herself. This would either make her career or she would break things in new and interesting ways. "Your excellencies," she greeted the room. "I will not waste time, we have too little of that anyway. You are aware of the situation with Magical Germany. To solve the current crisis, the following things will happen. From this point onward, the Erzministerium für Zauberei der Bundesrepublik Deutschland will act as the sole representative body for German magicals, both citizens of Magical Germany and non-Magical Germany alike. All concerns about actions by Magical Germany are to be sent to both my office and the diplomatic corps. We are already working on dismantling the old government of Magical Germany with minimum disruption. We don't need a situation where people start going on arson sprees," she laid out severely.

"And what guarantees can you give that Magical Germany doesn't simply decide to start something with us?" the Magical Polish ambassador asked pointedly. "Taking over the foreign affairs of a nation that doesn't care for foreign affairs will help us how? The non-magical side of things may be well-integrated, as my colleague reassures me, the magical side is anything but!" he asked hotly, earning nods from all the magicals present.

"We're aware of the recent troubles caused by the Magical German government and their supreme petulance," the Archmage allowed. "We're not asking for blind trust on this, either," she added slowly. "Herr Kanzler?" the Archmage said, making way for the German chancellor.

The chancellor went to the dais. "We had debated ordering the German Archmage to be present at this initial conference, but judged his presence counterproductive for now," he admitted. "We are committed to resolving this crisis peacefully, but we're not blind. As things stand, something has to give and asking for blind trust in these circumstances is counterproductive," the chancellor continued. "We therefore judged it prudent that we are the ones giving in to a degree," he finished, leading to various degrees of surprise around the table.

"As it stands, all of our neighbours are eyeing their borders with us with varying degrees of trepidation and we are quite aware that some people argue for a pre-emptive strike against Magical Germany. Make no mistake, we will not tolerate such an action, as it is, to the best of our ability to judge it, neither warranted nor wanted," the chancellor laid out, which lead to various people starting to protest. "However," he began, getting louder to make himself heard, "we are quite aware that this will do nothing to actually reduce the tensions on our border and in the interest of Germany not becoming a battlefield, we cordially invite groups from our neighboring states to act as observers while Germany takes care of Magical Germany. We can not promise a quick resolution to these troubles, but we are working on them. We hope that by subsuming their foreign representation, we can at least stop the hotheads from creating any more troubles than they already have," the chancellor finished.

"That does not address the question of how you want to ensure that Magical Germany doesn't simply start attacking any one of us," the Magical Polish ambassador reiterated.

The chancellor nodded. "Frau Erzmagierin," he said, stepping aside.

The Archmage looked over the room for a moment. "We do have sources on the inside of Magical Germany," she began. "As it stands, Magical Germany is completely baffled by the reaction to their stunt and they're deeply paranoid about a pre-emptive strike against themselves. This state of affairs isn't helped by the fact that Magical Germany is currently driving several magical species to extinction. From what we understand, they're hitting predatory species like rye aunts and erl kings. This has been consuming a lot of manpower and money on their end," she explained.

"So that's why there are a whole lot of nixes and necks in our rivers!" the Austrian, Dutch and Czech representatives exclaimed almost simultaneously. The Austrian representative took point. "So they fear being next and run away before the Prussians get their hands on them," he accused.

The Archmage shook her head. "We don't think there were any plans to go after them, the waterpeople merely remember the bad old days of being forced into toxic rivers or slavery and getting worked to death," she admitted. "Therefore they are fleeing, as they don't want to chance things. They've lost basically everything ever since the 1850ies and now they can't take the chance any more," she laid out. "There's too few of them left these days," she finished.

"As for Magical Germany's situation, their attempts to kill various magical species are currently overtaxing their available manpower," the Archmage explained. "We assume that they are doing this because they are aware of the statute breaking down and they want to be done exterminating their target species before the collapse. Lest people start championing erl kings or something like that," she finished with a chuckle. "This extermiantion campaign takes most of their time and efforts," she added. "From what we can gather, Magical Germany did not expect the reaction they provoked. They seem to have expected that their neighbors would close their borders as well and then pretend Germany does no longer exist," the Archmage laid out. "Not surprising, really, considering how much the statute and their desire to be left alone have warped their perception of the outside world," she continued.

"Now that you have to explain," the Danish ambassador cut in.

The Archmage sighed deeply. "Quite bluntly, we wizards ultimately scored a brutal own goal with the statute," she began. "Regardless of the facts at the time, by retreating into secrecy, we more or less decoupled ourselves from the mundane world. Those strongly removed from the non-magical side of things had lost touch and forgot what Unkönner are capable of. We began regarding them as rabble. It didn't take long for someone to do the math and to come to the conclusion that for all any wizard should win a one on one with an Unkönner, there's far more of them than us. Thus keeping hidden became paramount, as simple attrition would tell. So we hid, secure in the belief that as magicals we were superior and paranoid about not getting found out or we get ground down by the hostile masses," she explained. "A perfect recipe for an isolationist, paranoid, xenophobic society," she continued. "Now, the statute was seldom as absolute as touted, contacts between the magical and non-magical side of things were kept up by the simple expedient of Neumagier children bringing in outside perspectives, not to mention magical governments being in contact with the nonmagical one," she laid down.

Heaving a deep sigh, she continued. "However, here's where things get problematic. The Cold War. It basically began by the complete mismanagement of the occupation and the piss-poor job done at weeding out Grindelwald's enablers. Oh, sure, the really big names were executed, but the system that Grindelwald got to co-opt in the early thirties survived surprisingly intact. There was only one real coordination, which was the Seilschaften of the old regime working to weather the regime change and where possible to undermine the efforts of the occupying powers. Magical Germany fundamentally operates under a Cold War mindset. With generous helpings of people remembering the time before Germany got to turn the rest of Europe into a charnel house and fighting happening in Germany. They see themselves as the desired battlefield of their neighbors, the battlefield their neighbors will have no compunctions about destroying," she finished pointedly.

Around the table, uneasy glances were shared by the non-magical ambassadors. The words second strike hung in the air unsaid. Something the magicals began to realize as well.

"So, what you are telling us is that we are dealing with a nation that not only operates under the impressions of the cold war but one that also hates its neighbors and sees them as a threat to their national survival?" the Czech ambassador wanted to know.

"Pretty much," the Archmage confirmed. "Now, even the Cold War mindset needn't have led to the current madness if not for one other quirk. Citizenship. It is only conferred to those who went through the Brockenakademie. The Brockenakademie is not an accredited school, so the parents of especially Neumagier children or Magical German families discontent with the state of affairs at home that send their children to foreign schools do not acquire citizenship for their children and are systematically excluded. So we magical Germans that were discontent for the longest time simply stopped interacting with Magical Germany. Why bother with the hidebound maniacs, after all? Let them stew in their conservative society, anyone who isn't willfully blind had the option to just leave," she explained slowly. "This created a strong filter. Choose a foreign school and Magical Germany closes its doors to you. Choose the Brockenakademie and you turn your back on the world," she finished.

"Such societies radicalise," the Polish ambassador threw in.

"Indeed they do," the Archmage agreed. "And part of that was a fundamental disconnect about everything. As far as people in Magical Germany were concerned, foreigners are enemies that need to be kicked out and kept out. For them, there is no legitimate reason for foreigners to be in Germany. Talking with foreigners is just as alien a concept. After all, that's fraternizing with the enemy," she laid out. "The perspective of their neighbors was something they simply weren't able to model as the fundamental axioms they operate under are incompatible with reality. To them retreating into isolation and walling themselves in is a sign of peace. They don't want to bother the outside world and would really prefer it if the outside world did them the same favour. A sort of 'Leave us alone and we leave you alone' mindset. Very simple and like all simple solutions™, it doesn't work," she explained. "Right now, we are working on Magical Germany, both to get them to back down on the isolation and at least allow representatives of their neighbors into the country and to ensure they don't trigger any potential second strike capability they have," she reassured the assembled diplomats.

"Why not everyone?" the American ambassador wanted to know.

The Archmage turned to the chancellor.

The chancellor stood up and went to the dais again. "We have judged it best to start with the neighbors as those are the nations directly impacted by the current crisis," he explained diplomatically. "Too many representatives coming in at once is unlikely to have any desirable effect," he added.

The American ambassador nodded in understanding. Unfortunate, but understandable.

"We hope that the current course of action meets your approval, if there aren't any other urgent problems, we shall meet again tomorrow," the chancellor concluded the meeting.

The magical ambassadors left the room as the non-magical ambassadors started talking amongst each other. It wasn't much, but at least there was now a chance that they could see for themselves what exactly was going on.

As the last ambassador left the conference room, the chancellor groaned. "I'm not even five years into this job and I wonder how pear survived sixteen years and Schröder eleven," he muttered darkly.

The Archmage shrugged. "Better timing, I assume," she mused.

"The only way the timing could be worse would be Kalthafen's fleet shelling Britain the day after Germany kicks out all foreigners, flying the Reich's war flag," the chancellor gave back. "I really, really hope that we can bring these fools into line before we have to disclose a rogue battlefleet near the Arctic," he continued.

The Archmage nodded. "Yes. Disclosing it now would have ended with a war," she stated simply.

The chancellor nodded in assent. "Well, time to get to work," he said. Turning to his secretary, he nodded. "Bring the Archmage to my office," he ordered.

Preußen gave a small salute and left the room, followed by the chancellor and Archmage. There was work to be done and while some things they couldn't do anything about, trying to pound sense into the current Archmage was on the list of doable things.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Game Of Go

Ninomaru Garden, East Garden Of The Imperial Residence, Chiyoda, Japan

June 8th 2014
Spoiler: A Game Of Go

Three female figures dressed in kimonos knelt on embroidered quilts underneath the trees that had been donated from every prefecture and feudal domain of Japan. The youngest of the three, a teenage girl growing into what promised to be a remarkably beautiful specimen of young womanhood strummed a biwa softly.

The older two women, their blood ties of sisterhood apparent from the matching stamp of the features on their faces, intensely concentrated on the golden kaya wood of the go board between them. Matching antique mulberry-wood bowls rested at each woman's right hand containing the black and white jade of their stones, while to the left, matching sheathed Masamune katanas rested.

The younger sister plucked a white stone from her bowl between index and middle finger. Her focus on the pattern on the board was razor keen as she placed it. She softly spoke as her fingers lifted. "I must return the invitation for another game at a later date once matters permit, Eldest Sister."

The raven haired elder sister with thin threads of steel gray in her hair nodded sharply. "It has been too long since we contested a game, imouto." Her own hand dipped to place her black stone with a sharp clack on the wood.

The younger adjusted her glasses absently as she surveyed the new pattern being formed as white and black fought for domination across the board. "Bold. Daring. Ruthless and strong yet cunning and subtle to cleave toward the heart of matters and build strongly where your sword has cleared the rot. Your First Master is honored by your remembrance and obedience to his lifelong teachings." Her soft voice was filled with respect.

The elder gave a warm smile as a white stone was placed to escalate the current ko battle that was raging in a flurry of feint and counter, wit and bluff and weighing the moment to strike to claim territory and kill enemy stone chains. "Indirect. Patient. Subtle to the point of formlessness, yet precise and perfectly devastating in the attacks when the web closes upon the unwary to win the battle whose outcome is already decided. As ruthless as my Master when ruthlessness was called for, but infinitely more patient to create a mighty edifice upon the cleared ground. I could say the same of how you honor your Master." Her voice in turn showed equal respect for the man whom she described.

A small smug smile was given by the younger sister as her hand lifted from her latest move. "True. We have both been greatly blessed by all the kami in the quality of the men who have Mastered us. I have often wished that our Masters were present to help lead us through matters as they have been developing of late."

The elder nodded in agreement as she reached for another stone. "Indeed, I have thought such of late too. We have fought against each other before with steel and words, and I always found you to be my most difficult foe to face. But we have also allied before to accomplish great things when events allowed it and it warmed my heart greatly when you returned. We have agreed on much and disagreed on much, yet we have always shared the same dream... in our own ways."

The younger smiled warmly. "Hai. Your words mirror my thoughts. I was pleased to see you orchestrate the victory for your second Master when we fought last, for I knew that there was no dishonor in my defeat and that Japan would thrive under your advice to him." With that a black stone claimed territory.

The elder matched the warmth in her own smile. "Indeed. Just as I was pleased to see your Master resolve matters after my Master," a flash of old bitter anger flickered in her golden eyes and froze her voice, "was betrayed and murdered. I must ask, did your Master...?"

A sharp shake of the head and words of firm denial. "No. While he was certainly capable of it as you well know, he was honestly shocked and saddened when the news reached his ears and I was there when it did. I believe up to the point when your Master was slain, his plan was to have his blood marry your Master's blood and eventually forge an alliance to rule. You know how he thought ahead to play the long game. Afterward," silk embroidered with the triple hollyhock mon of her family rustled as the younger shrugged, "he elected to plan otherwise and the rest, as the saying goes, is the history that every schoolchild knows."

The elder subsided and quirked a smile. "Thank you. I was never sure afterward if my great failure had been... assisted... in that way." A hand reached out after her move to pluck six white stones from the board. "Kyushu has changed allegiances and matters have begun in earnest."

The younger placed her own stone to capture a chain of black pieces. "Indeed they have. Now we see what fruit our plans shall bear."

A cough interrupted them and they glanced at the biwa player. The girl swallowed nervously at their intent glances but spoke in an admirably steady voice. "Masamune-sensei, Masamune-sama. I have a letter from Sōsobo here that arrived in the muggle post this morning. It may have relevance."

She reached into her kimono and handed over the sealed envelope to the elder sister. As the rice paper changed hands, the younger focused on the Clan chop in the sealing wax. "Mōri... her Sōsobo was your lady in waiting and star pupil in 1898, yes?"

The elder smiled with a flash of teeth. "Indeed Seikōin was my star pupil then after the Restoration. How did you know that she personally wrote me to request that I train up and develop her great-granddaughter Mōri Kiku-chan?"

The younger gave her own smile. "I always suspected that you two were close since her first daughter was named Lady Toku. Not a common name at all, in fact the only other one I know of was the daughter of Oda Nobunaga who married Ieyasu-dono's eldest son to form their alliance. I know how much you respect Youngest Sister and any lady of waiting of yours would have a Masamune-steel fist inside the silk glove by the time you finished training her to manage her husband and household properly."

Kotegiri laughed. "Indeed she does, would you not agree Kiku-chan?"

Kiku nodded with a shy, soft smile. "Indeed, she rules our clan with iron underneath the velvet. She told me that I remind her of herself as a girl upon the day she told me that you had agreed to have me as your apprentice."

Honjo smiled, "As someone who faced Duchess Mōri in the Diet and the Court, I can see the potential there, and you remind me of someone else who I knew before." The Honjo Masamune frowned as she tried to pin down the memory of who Kiku reminded her of in some indefinable way before dismissing the thought. "So what does your pupil say, Sister?"

Kotegiri read the hand-inked characters and then folded the letter. "Hiroshima will be holding a referendum, as will Okayama. More stones are being removed from the board. She is of the opinion that they are looking favorably upon Kyoto, especially with the other defections. And since Hiroshima is a major naval base covering the Inland Sea...."

Honjo took the letter and read it. "Hisshi. Checkmate is near-certain now."

With that she turned to the board and raised her eyebrow at the patterns present. "Score the game?"

Kotegiri nodded and agreed. "Score the game. Well played, Sister."

"I was honored by a masterful opponent, Sister." Honjo agreed as she began to compute the territory that she had gained and stones captured.

 

[darthcourt10]

Tackweld

Timeskip 1:

This happens soon after Magical Germany goes into total isolationist mode.



Adm. Kazimierz Wawrzaszek' s office,
Naval Base Gdyna
Gdyna, Poland

An unpatient hammering on his door drew Adm. Wawrzaszek from stirring his coffee.

At his call of "Enter", Kamchatka, His acting secretary, nearly threw the door off its hinges.

"Sir! this just arrived by courier, He said < The first phase of the United Poland Protocol has been triggered, Look West>"
Kamchatka presented the large packet. It was bound with golden and black string, and sealed with black wax.
Wawrzaszek had instantly seized the parcel and broke the wax before the parcel had hit his desk.
"My predecessor had warned me about this, said the day may someday come where we would need to make use of the Protocol. I never thought that I would live in such times." Wawrzazek said sadly as he cut the strings. Kamchatka moved to leave, feeling as though Wawrzaszek had just neglected to dismiss her.
"Kamchatka," Wawrzaszek continued, "As you are currently a member of the Polish Navy, Please stay to be witness to what comes out of this packet."

The first paper he had pulled read as follows,

Supplement to the United Poland Protocol -
to be distributed to all Base, Ship, and Camp Commanders that will receive the UPP Packet

----OF UTMOST SECERECY----
A Witness of Lower Rank within your command is required Per UPP Directive 1.0 General Procedures.

Attention
You have been selected to receive the UPP Packet .
Read the entirety of the UPP Packet.
Within the UPP Packet are the Protocols and Directives that will govern upcoming operations.

Specifics of what Incident Initiated UPP Phase 1:
Read UPP Missive A.23 before continuing
The Established Magical Government of Germany has just closed their borders and began expelling foreigners.
View Missive 226 for complete intelligence report.
The Magical Sejm of the Republic (See Missive A.23) has requested Military Unified Action in order to Secure the Borders of the Republic from possible German attack. (See Look to the West Directive).
The Magical Sejm of the Republic is Currently taking a defensive stance on the matter. If issues on Germany come to a head, we shall be ready

End Supplement
UPP
Be Ready for further packets.




-----------------------------------------------
A.N.: The Polish Magical Sejm had established UPP as soon as they had separated from the USSR
They wished to have a Military Cooperation procedure in place in case the Sovereignty of Poland was threatened by either of the Old Enemies (Germany and Russia) on either side of the Statute of Secrecy.
UPP 1 is not a total Unification of Magical and mundane Poland, but could be used as a groundwork, especially if UPP 4 is enacted.
UPP 4 is essentially the Magical Sejm's Doomsday Protocol.- Total Mobilization of both sides of Poland, the Statute of Secrecy be dammed.