La Storia della Arcana Famiglia [T]
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December 11th, 2012 (7:26 PM).
Oda's critical gaze continued to watch Xoxaa even after she had helped the young woman rise. It was merely a reflex honed from her years working in Sword, and a memento of the times when she wouldn't slip into intangibility when any danger came. She needed to be aware of everything around her, from the falling cartridge of a spent bullet to the way her maid peeled an orange. It was inappropriate when it polite company, but the woman's wariness only grew with each passing year.
The subtle body language that would have escaped a casual observer let Oda know that something was upsetting Xoxaa, though she had little idea of what. As the wind picked up and flung her braid to the side, Oda's focus was once again drawn away; this was no time for getting to know other members of the Famiglia, no matter how quickly she'd collided with them. That could come later, perhaps when the duo of Swords didn't have escaping thieves.
"Let's continue, yes?" The taller woman asked with an arch of her eyebrow. She made a motion to pat the blank-faced Apprentice on the shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie often shown amongst the more established members of the sector, but caught her slender fingers mid-air and slipped it down the hilt of her sheathed blade instead. With a nod, she resumed her sprint towards the charged ship with the intent of capturing the criminals before any of the regular guards were murdered.
With that awkward situation over for the moment, Oda's feet were swift across the pale sidewalk and she stood upon the boat's deck within seconds. It was eerily quiet before the guards busted one of the doors open with a shuddering crack. Oda remembered the design of these boats from a few of the more paranoid citizens, when she'd been invited on-board to investigate a curious noise in the storage or from the engine room. Directly below where she stood was a single hallway that lead to the control room.
Beneath the moonlight, Oda's form simply slipped through the pearl hull of the yacht. To any bystanders, it would have looked painless, but it was most disorienting to Oda herself. When passing through air, any injury whether by bullet or fire felt like nothing; an emptiness that left nothing to ponder for even a moment. Phasing through thick objects was far worse; it began with pushing against the current of the ocean with only one hand. Being forced away by nature itself, letting her know that she wasn't meant to be there.
Until she got halfway through. Thousands of hooks crisscrossed her skin and tugged, without a chance to pull back or anchor herself to the world beyond. It was possible to, but it wasn't pleasant and often left Oda shivering for a few days. This time was no different. Still, she pushed and slipped away from the night's embrace to land with a thud on the carpeted yacht floor below. Her arrival was punctuated by the march of boots and yells of guards as they searched the ship for the thieves.
There was no need for Oda; as she listened to guards rounding the corner into her hallway, dark brown eyes met the muscular form of one of the thieves. His visage was just as she could expect. Grizzled and dirty, like one would expect a pirate to be, but with a vicious will that spoke of all the people he'd killed and a gaze to match. The man was a mirror image of squad commanders within Sword, and the cool barrel of his revolver was already staring her down.
Not even a moment's hesitation, as the thief pulled the trigger. Were this any other life, Oda would have feared it, but danger to herself was the last thing she feared. The burning metal passed through the Adept of Swords as if she had never stood before him, sped through the air, and collided with the head of an arriving town guard. His cry was only brief before collapsing in the doorway and blocking the entrance of his own comrades. Oda would be hearing that for a few days yet.
The thief glanced at the sights of his revolver briefly before it dropped to the ground and drew the blade loosely hanging from his belt. The brand was that of the Famiglia and likely stolen from a warm guard's corpse. Oda drew her own blade to match her opponent's, though she had no intention of running him through. It was just to reinforce his assumptions about the opponent he'd heard in the hallway; likely having expected her to be sneaking up on him.
Luckily for Oda, people always saw things and took Occam's Razor to it; it was a key part of her fighting style. First came the parries, as the thief struck at her with blows trained by a hand less thorough than the Sword's, letting them slip away just far enough for him to believe he had a chance of breaking her defense. Then, with a feigned grunt of exertion, Oda made a clumsy feint that the thief took full advantage of, as the point of his blade was driven through where Oda's stomach would be.
The length of the blade passed through the air, as the thief stumbled forward. Oda looked into the man's panicked eyes for only a moment, as battle was no time for gloating, before she dropped her weapon and brought each of her fists to bear on the sides of the man's head. He crumpled to the ground in a heavy heap of wrought muscle, along with his stolen weapon. He would only be knocked out for a few seconds, but it was all the Adept needed before straddling his back and cuffing his wrists together.
The guards would be more equipped to bring the thief onto the island proper, as a group of them poured into the hallway after moving their deceased comrade out of the way. The party would be soon, Oda realized, as she walked past the solemn men to wait upon the deck of the ship; she suspected Xoxaee was already on board in the time it took to subdue that thief, and the Adept wanted to speak with her before attending the ball. With any luck, the night wouldn't become longer than it already had.
Joined Nov 2012
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