The click of a light switch was a swift prelude to the warm yellow light, filling the room. Iris kicked her shoes off, and with a small skip, she threw herself straight onto the sofa in the middle of the room, tossing her bag aside. "I wanna go north tomorrow." she proclaimed, stretching her arms above her head, and turning over, to support herself with her elbows. With a quick sideways flick of her head, she swept her long, soft blonde hair aside, out of her face. "So, did you like it, Bran?" Giving her brother a smile as sweet as honey, she turned to him, taking off the red sweatshirt that she wore, and hanging it over the sofa.<br/>Brandon, who, in the meantime, finished taking off and tidying up his gloves and hat, gave her a lax shrug. "It was an interesting experience. Not quite in my tastes, though." With his typical unimpressed grimace, the tall blond man hung his long coat in the corridor, and stretching like a cat, he came over to the sofa as well. Iris shifted aside, patting the cushions as if inviting him to sit - what Brandon promptly did, bending his head back in a shower of platinum blonde hair, tied by a red thread in the middle. "So tomorrow, you insist on taking a ship north and visiting Svalbard islands? It's cold there, you know." he gave her a challenging look of his chestnut eyes. She crossed her arms on her chest.<br/>"And it will cost a lot." he remarked then.<br/>"I have enough money on me. We're going." the girl countered him.<br/>"There's nothing but polar bears and rocks in there." Brandon sighed deeply, sweeping his long bangs aside with his slim fingers.<br/>"I want to take a photo with a polar bear!" she pounded her small fist into the cushions.<br/>"And if it eats you? They aren't plush toys, Iris." he kept arguing.<br/>"I<span style="font-style: italic">want</span>to go there! We're going there!" Standing up abruptly, and crossing her arms on her chest, across the shirt and soft woolen jumper that she wore, and she stomped off, into the bathroom.<br/><br/>Bran rubbed the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. Why did she want to go to that cold wasteland? There was nothing but rocks! How utterly boring. And it was<span style="font-style: italic">cold</span>there. He wasn't exactly pleased by the thought; what were they, characters in some medieval fantasy series to go freeze their bones into the northernmost north for no purpose whatsoever? Iris could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes.<br/>All of a sudden, he was broken from his thoughts by a loud, high pitched scream.<br/>"BRAAAN! HELP ME!" his sister screamed. Something made a sound, not unlike a large object hitting the floor. He immediately leaped up, running towards the bathroom door, and burst straight in.<br/>There was no one inside. Instead, a large hole opened up in the tiles on the floor. It made a silent humming sound, and its edges were hazy; its center, though, was as black as night. Brandon's expression quickly changed from a bored, unexcited display of snobbish carelessness into a bewildered grimace. His sister! Where was Iris? She must have... Fallen in...<br/><br/>He tossed a towel in. It... Disappeared in the hole, as if falling through black mist, and then vanishing completely. How amazing. He would sue the family, owning the resort, if he'd even as much as slightly damage the tight black jeans that he wore. And with those thoughts, he sneered at the hole in the ground, stepping in.<br/>He was falling. For a long while, he was falling, down, deeper and deeper through a black nothingness. Then, bright lights flashed underneath him - and he landed on a black sofa with a loud crash, his legs folding underneath him far less gracefully than he would have wished. For a moment, he was dazed by both confusion, and pain of the sudden fall; this room was completely unknown to him, and it didn't seem like anything else in the hotel. For once, it was far shabbier. And there were people... Nothing like what he had seen before. Was this some sort of a cosplay convention? If yes, then he was looking for the shortest way out.<br/>A pair of arms wrapped around him, and frightened bawling and sobbing, together with the warmth of someone's breath, came from behind him.<br/>"Bran, where are we? I fell in... I fell in through the hole in the bathroom floor... Bran, Bran, are you even listening to me? Where are we? I'm afraid... Call... Call someone, I want to get out of here..." Iris cried in fear, but all that became distant to him at the sight of guns.<br/>He reached into his long black blazer, and within a moment sled off the sofa, pointing a large, heavy gun at anyone that dared to endanger and frighten Iris like that, a bewildered expression in his face. His chestnut eyes had a red glint to them as he eyed everyone over, taking a defensive stance and sneering at the men and women around him. "Back off. Everyone back off. Instantly. Or I fire a whole load of silver bullets into your head!" he burst out, his hands gripping the gun tightly, even as Iris covered in his shadow. Whatever was happening, he wasn't going to let<span style="font-style: italic">anyone</span>lay a hand on her! He'd shoot their brains out, straight into the wall!<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>"Yeah, yeah, sure. Let me just fetch the new print-out, mmkay? I've got it in my bag... Wait. No, my assistant has it!" Pointing a finger up, Naruhiko informed his audience - with a small, black-haired boy in the front - of his leaving, and pushed himself away, waving one gloved hand at the group of his fans standing around him. This convention was a<span style="font-style: italic">blast</span>. He never suspected he might find so many fans of the Thousand Blades grouped up in a single place; and he didn't think they'd all recognize him as Izumi-sensei that draws it... Though, as he thought back, it wasn't that difficult to recognize him - how many tall, purple-haired cosplayers of Kawakami Tsunayoshi with a stern assistant could you find on a single con? Not that many.<br/>He fastened the obi about his waist, searching for Tachibana-san, wherever the woman might have gone. He knew that she didn't like these sorts of things, but she was carrying all his signed print-outs of all the volumes of Thousand Blades of Seika Mashita!<br/>"Tachibana-saaan! Tachibana-san! I need your bag!" he called out across the whole place, but except for a few wary looks, he got no reply. He released a deep sigh, and went forwards, looking out for the slightest hint of pink hair and well-endowed assets. Without success. All he managed was to...<br/>Get lost.<br/>Again.<br/><br/>He had no clue where he had gotten. Though, there was a door over there; he could just enter that door, right? Peeeeerhaps she was there. The chance was really slim, but...<br/>Reaching for the doorknob, he turned it, and pulled back. Nothing. He most likely had to push... Though, when he did so, nothing was behind the door. Only darkness. Maybe a light switch was further in the corridor - or room or whatever it was... He stepped in.<br/>And immediately realized that was a mistake. For a moment, he felt oddly light, as if floating in air; but then, a strong pull came, and he bent over, his eyes widening with surprise and horror. All of a sudden, he was hurled through a room, and bashed into a table side-first. It slammed the breath out of him, and he bowled over, his dark purple hair a mess around his head. What just happened? He wasn't even at the convention anymore, though some of those people looked like cosplayers. All of a sudden, he found himself full of fear - mainly because there were several guns pointing at him. Big guns. Scary guns.<span style="font-style: italic">Real</span>guns. His black-and-red samurai armor might have been an impressive piece of cosplay material, but it sure as hell wouldn't protect him from anything...<br/>"Ahaha... Ha... Hello..." he started, raising his hands in a posture that could mean only one thing - that he's yielding. "Good... Good afternoon... Now... Now if you'd excuse me... I'd... I'd make my leave..." Grinning nervously, he quickly realized - both from a gut feeling and the faces of the others - that they most likely don't understand Japanese, and his brain worked impressively hard to retrieve his not-that-shabby knowledge of English instead. "Hi... I... I got to... Take my leave now... I have... Manga to give out... And there's people waiting for me..."<br/>Turning on his heel, he meant to walk back into that odd hole; instead, though, he walked head-first into the wall.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>New guns! New guns! F**k yeah! New guns... And with those, Yukio did a f**king good job, that much Yutaka had to admit as he looked his new weapons over. They were large, each weighing well over three kilograms, but for him, that much was nothing. Taking into account the size of the bullets those black monsters fired... It could tear straight through a car, through thick glass, and it could shoot the head off a man without issues. Now this was what he called a gun, oh glorious tools of chaos, anarchy, and public lawbreaking! He could already see them in action, and a sick, twisted grin appeared on his lips as he lifted them up. His little children, cherished and beloved. There was nothing Yutaka loved as much as he loved his weapons... Well, perhaps except for sake. Now that would be excellent, that was just what he needed to celebrate the acquisition of these two beauties. They'd sing for him soon enough.<br/>He made his way through the hideout, sliding both massive guns through his loose belt, and his gloved hands swept his silky black hair behind his ears. The room that held most of Scarlet Note's alcohol wasn't too far; gods knew that it was his second favorite place in the building. Though he was a lightweight, he didn't care much for the aftermath of the drinking. And grinning maliciously, he flung the door of the room open.<br/>However, there was something odd in it. A large, softly glowing hole. It alerted him; was this the work of some sort of monster? He shot everything that he sighted messing with his hideout... Well, he'd shoot this one, too. And to make sure, he'd get all of his weapons ready. He locked the door behind himself, rushing back up the stairs in his military boots pounding against the concrete; it was a good thing that the bottle storage was that near, for real.<br/><br/>Throwing a short leather jacket over his bare shoulders, he made sure that he wouldn't enter again unprotected. He pinned a whole array of knives in leather sheaths to his belt, swung the reins that held his twin katanas over his muscular chest, securing them on his back, and, just to make sure that he'll be able to brutally massacre whatever bastard was lurking around<span style="font-style: italic">his</span>alcohol storage, he grabbed one of his one-of-a-kind guns. Another of Yukio's glorious creations, it was a three-cannon blasting monster so heavy ordinary people would have issues with handling it. He considered it light, though his muscles bulged as he heaved it up. It could fire enough rounds to blast the brains out of an Oni within seconds, its accuracy was superior, and its firepower was massive. It was a collector's piece in black and silver. And just to make sure, he placed a nice few reserve rounds onto his belts - both for the twin guns, and the massive riffle.<br/>Armed up to the teeth, and with a bewildered grin on his face, he made his way back down. The door opened slowly underneath his hand. Strangely enough, nothing seemed to change since he left; that was odd. He didn't quite like it. At first, he moved closer to the strange shape. It didn't move; it was a blackness upon the wall that he could not identify, and it was unsettling as it were. Not willing to waste ammo on the large riffle, he swung that one over his shoulder, beside the katanas, and instead pulled out the black twins - the new ones. Time to test these beauties.<br/><br/>They screamed with the sounds of bullets being released, and a few empty shells fell onto the floor; though, all the bullets merely disappeared in the blackness of the hole, and vanished without trace. He frowned. Not a good thing. Placing the guns back at his belt, he slowly, carefully unsheathed the black katanas. And all of a sudden, he leaped forth, towards the darkness, with the elegance of a panther making a semicircular strike.<br/>It achieved nothing. The blade sliced across the strange thing, and emerged back untouched. How... Incredibly odd. Well... If that was the case... He needed to get closer. It was nothing like anything he'd seen before; actually, it was closer to a computer-generated effect in a movie. He didn't like it in the slightest. But as toughly armed as he was, it could pose no threat to him, to the man that escaped his own death...<br/>His hand reached in.<br/>And he was dragged behind. A strong force pulled him into the hole, and all of a sudden he found himself plunging through. For a moment, there was darkness and nothing around him; then, light came, and he prepared himself for his landing. That was a good thing; he whirled in, and landed in an elegant turn across his shoulder, brushing the gun and the swords against the ground only ever so softly. Immediately, he straightened himself, standing up to his full height and examining his surroundings. This wasn't the hideout; it was either a hallucination caused by whatever he encountered in the hideout, or another part of Miyake district, most likely something underground. There was a lot of other people... Some armed... With guns.<br/>He did not hesitate to sheathe the blades and instantly reveal the twin guns, their hollow black mouths gaping at the men at his sides. He crossed his arms across his chest for protection, and backed up against the wall to cover his back. He was, after all, a veteran warrior; and he wasn't stupid to let anyone as much as threaten him. Anyone who'd try to would be a whole head smaller.