Faye
A tear of rain fell on his wound, heralding another beside it and another; A storm was coming. Should he attempt to meet her eyes through the miniscule slits in her helmet he would see a pair of piercing mirrors, silver and reflecting the moonlight back to blind his own gaze. Regardless of his attempted resistance he was nevertheless all but to her mercy, one seldom met; *And for a very good reason*. Perhaps her moon stared eyes were not the bloodshot red of a pure psychopath he anticipated, but they were corrupted with the unbridled rage of her own self. 

'People are wicked. We make choices based on our own needs. *Good* People only do *Good* Deeds if they will be recognised or acknowledged for it; otherwise they're demented. 

Her voice stopped, then overshadowed by the distant call of the howling wind as a charged thunder rang like a steeple bell in the background. She let the silence ensue as the clouds above gathered and began lightly pouring. The sounds of the flames hissing as heavy raindrops fell from the night sky. All the while he was to be fixated on the pain, helplessly enduring the worst of it as she swayed it lightly side to side.

'So you're just going to give up. I should've never wasted my time on you. '

Placing her finger atop the knife's scale she once more pushed down, the rearing pain agonizing to no end. When others torture they can be so overzelous in style or method.

What is the point when simply exercising it as painful as one could render was all that was needed. It was pure and untainted pain, dealt from the shining slivered blade of her arsenal. Hynes slowly folded her fingers around the handle before violently ramming the entire breadth of the blade down into his arm, juxtaposing the other end.

'You are with anger, hate, respite; *And retribution*. **Good**. Anyone who cowers in the face of me or pleads without resistance is one who deserves a fate worse than yours. Though is it truly tenacious morality guiding you, or delusional lunacy. Either way it doesn't matter I suppose, the one thing you said correct is that death will tear us all one day.'

Slowly and steadily he receded the blade, shifting it side to side to ensure the maximum amount of pain by further damaging his bone and seared flesh. He was losing far too much blood, as like an over poured glass of red wine it ran down his hands and onto the soaked pool of wetted grass. Perhaps she was referring to his death being much sooner than he had anticipated. Though perhaps in that moment he had already accepted such a fate. Taking the pressure off his right hand from her knee she grabbed it, forcing it to hold onto the dagger itself. Then in a swift motion she recovered the blade and pressed it towards her neck, inline between her helmet and collar; one of the few openings of her exterior.

**'Do it then. Show me justice. Show me what it means to do the right thing.** Every man is his savior and executioner, every man has the responsibility to decide his own right and wrongs. We judge right and wrong the same way we tell night from day. However when the clouds of obscurity come forth then suddenly it is not so clear. You may think of me as a coward, and I will think you equally as a fool. Both judgments are equal in weight, meaning neither is more right nor wrong than the other. The difference is I learnt that, you deny it. '
Dennis
*Ishikawa stared into her eyes for longer than he intended, flinching at the reflection. He stared up at the sky as it began to downpour, allowing the cool rain to wash away the blood on his face, and the tears that had began to form. With the rain, it was near impossible to tell that he had begun to cry. His expression hadn't changed, his demeanor hadn't changed, it was simply the pain forcing his eyes to water.* 

"I did not come out here because I wanted to. I did not come out here for whatever reward might be had. I came out here because there was a chance someone was in need. In all honesty, I wanted to rest. **But I didn't.** Call me demented if you will, but that's the truth of it." 

*Basking in the silence, Ishikawa reflected on his situation. The thunder. The pain. His anger. Was this how he was going to die? He had so much left to do. His family was waiting back home for him, and there were still demons that he had to conquer. He grimaced as she continued to torture him, voice wavering,* 

"No, not yet."

*That didn't seem to be aimed at her. Ishikawa continued to tremble, closing his eyes, attempting to keep his breathing steady as he endured the worst of it. It was all he could do. Endure. As the blade was finally shoved further through him, his defenses were broken, the man unable to keep himself from calling out any longer, gritting his teeth in a last ditch effort to silence his agonized cries.* 

"**G-ah**, f-..*Fuck!*..." 
*Ishikawa lowered his gaze, breathing heavily. He didn't respond.* 

*Ishikawa watched the blood pour out of his wound with an apprehensive gaze, yet more tears making their way down his face. The anger was still there, it had just quieted itself. Though silent anger was often far worse. His already pale face became almost ghostly as he continued to loose blood, though a determination still shone in his eyes. Ishikawa slowly met her gaze once again, making no attempt to hide his pain this time.*

*His words were few, and his voice shook, barely audible, but there was a decisiveness in them that were unmistakable. A lack of emotion, even. As if judgement had taken hold of his body, and he had no agency in his actions, only a righteous desire.* 

"***Certainly.***" 

*Ishikawa would make an attempt to slash across her throat, being cold and methodical if he was able. The man certainly knew what he was doing. Whether he was successful or not, he would use the last of his strength and make an attempt to pull away, forcing his body to wrench itself from her grasp, running. He held his shoulder, stumbling as he continued, making a break for salvation through the steaming wreckage of what had once been a humble homestead.* 

Ishikawa was prepared for death, but he would not let it claim him today.
Faye
**Snap!**

Ishikawa felt a jolt of agonizing pain in his arm as he was forced to release the blade. Before even striking Hynes had felt his fatal intent and had grappled his wrist, having never left her guard despite the dagger inches from her throat. Testimony to her speed and supernatural like reactions. Of course she did not just grab his wrist, whilst he did exactly as she had hoped him to, she still attempted her life; and for that he suffers. Regardless of his intent or will she had prophesied exactly his actions, not expecting anything different and being met with fulfilled aspirations. The only part he didn't fulfill however was the crucial part, and that was killing her.

'You speak of justice as more than killing injustice, yet what do your actions speak. We really are not so different, infant we both realise that by now; only the other denies it.'

He suddenly found himself propelled backwards when his jaw was bent from a high straight kick. Landing on his back completely as her metallic sabaton flew directly upwards, then stomping onto his chest.

She planted her foot hard enough to blow the oxygen from his lungs, forcing him to recover momentarily choking. It wasn't long before the rain found itself littering his near corpse, while a dark raven stood over. 

'There are two types of pain. The type that makes you stronger, and needless pain. I can resolve one of those types whilst giving the other. If you believe the girl deserved a choice, so be it; *I'll give you a choice.*

A dark fogged aura resonated from the woman as the rain began to pour against her shadowed spear, expanding the dark mist behind her. Retrieving it from her back she revealed what appeared to be a long pole a head above her height. It wasn't shaped like an ordinary weapon however, putrid black miasma blocked its shape and disfigured detail. It was like a pure black stretch of unbridled black smog. If anything at least he would die fast and quick to a single stroke; Hynes not having the desire to torture or torment him with pain anymore. Perhaps death in itself was the greatest thing that she could ever hope to give to people, a way out of this cruel and hateful world.

'So tell me boy, will this pain make you stronger; or **Should I end it**. Right here you will decide. I will give you three seconds to consider your life. You now have no functioning arms, your left arm is fractured whilst your right wrist is snapped.
Dennis
*Ishikawa let a screech of agony past his lips as his stance weakened, allowing his arm to fall limp as he tried to keep his thoughts straight through the haze of suffering. Past all points of laboring to conceal the effects of what she had done, he stood there, focusing on his breathing, not allowing it to get too fast. It was a struggle. The sound of his heart beating pounded in his ears, the world around him beginning to blur as the figure before him swam across his vision. He made an attempt to stutter, but was silenced as he was knocked harshly to the ground.* 

*He sputtered and gasped desperately for breath as he lay on his back, choking. Blood still flowed from his lip, giving the appearance that we was coughing up blood as fought for air. Feebly he looked up at her, watching the tip of the almost demonic weapon she carried be levied at his head. Using the last bit of his willpower, he hardened his expression, staring his possible death in the face with the most dignity he could muster in this undignified state. His eyes still shined, his chest still heaved, struggling to breathe. He was was still alive, and he intended to stay that way, even if he was on the brink of annihilation. Spitting blood up at her, he wheezed, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes.* 

"**I'll get over it.**"
Faye
'Getting over loss isn't good enough. If you mourn for the dead you'll only regret your shortcomings in being unable to stop them from dying. It's a cruel thing, but in reality it's simply better to not have forged bounds to that degree in the first place.'

The black lancer stood over her like the mythological grim reaper. Swaying her dark spear towards him he felt the verocious chaotic aura seeped within it as it could raise the hairs on any person's skin. Her deathly spear took in the soaking rain but turned it to a corrupt black liquid once it had passed through it. Falling onto his skin and then toward his neck the black raindrops even in the rain smelt of rancour. She placed what was the tip against his neck, running it down to his chest whereupon she firmly left a large gaping cut, it's pain normally being severe in it of itself; however overshadowed by the other severe wounds. Reaching the place of his heart she then balanced the spear on his chest, spinning lightly as to tear the flesh as she penetrated. A slick of blood began running out of the hole, until she stopped to trace along his soon to be former scar and towards his head once more. Forcing it between his lips she then placed it into his mouth, the taste of a foreign and strange metal with an indiscernible tinge. Though immensely discomfortable, had she pushed it down further, he would begin choking.

'**Beg.**'
Dennis
*Ishikawa lay on the cold ground, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, ash, and mud. Every sense was on edge, the kitsunes ears perked. The foul smell emanating from the weapon was nothing worse than anything he had smelled before, but coupled with the rest of his state, he gagged, soon gasping as his skin was cut. The warmth continued to drain from him as yet more crimson liquid gushed from his wounds. The life was being choked from his body, leaving behind inky pools of ichor, glistening attractively in the dour landscape like a fine wine. Blood fell further down his face as an old scar was made anew, the stinging pain of the past being muddled in with the suffering of the present. Ishikawa just barely opened his eyes, resolving to not let the woman conquer his spirit, though it would just be easier to give in and die. His words barely made it past his lips, the man struggling as he choked them out.* 

"I'll... Never stop. Trying to bring people like you to justice. *N-*" 

*He wheezed,* 

"*Never.* No matter-" 

*He cringed, weakly trying to blink blood from his eyes.* 

"What you do to me. Everything that you do... Only adds fuel to the fire."