driftfleet | in the shadow of the valley

Who: Mantis and thee~

Broadcast: YEP

Action: Bishop

When: Now

A: Bishop (accidental broadcast)

He's in his office. A man with brown hair and a scowl is glaring at him. The man is proving difficult to deal with.

He's in his office. The man is in trouble. Much as he fights, some illusions are hard to break.

He's in his office. There's a burning pain in his chest. His leg. The man takes off his mask. Blue eyes meet grey with mutual hate. His mask is back on and all goes black.

He's in his office. Chairs provided by Atroma are floating around in lazy circles. Mantis is likewise suspended in mid-air. His shoulders are tense, his hands in fists, and he's breathing in a slow and deliberate manner. The feed is slightly askew from where he had tossed his transmitter to the floor.

A pair of scissors comes up behind his shoulder. The chairs all slam against one side of the room. There's a dull think as the scissors lodge themselves in one of them. Mantis' feet touch the floor and he sits on the desk. Truly the worst thing about remembering is a lack of proximity to that which one wishes to destroy. He waves his hand and the feed goes dark.

B: Broadcast

The feed now shows Mantis slumped over the desk in his office. The scissors are upright where they have been stabbed into it. He waves vaguely at the camera before picking up his head.

"This is undoubtedly morbid, but I currently lack in a real answer. Has anyone ever..." His voice falters. "Come back from the dead? Not here, but where they come from. I need some perspective on something.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mm, some of 'em are made for display, sure. [Like Mikazuki or Nakigitsune] But given a chance, they can still kill. I know a lot of display swords that can still cut a man down.

And if that guy gets caught, he'll have to accept the consequences of it. You don't go into battle not ready to die.

You would have to put a lot of force behind it.

[He makes an irritated noise.] He will. If I ever get back home, I'll kill him myself.

Depends - I heard later people make swords that aren't meant to cut and then, yeah, you'd basically have t'bludgeon someone to death. But in my day, a "display" sword could still cut.

[Any 'real' sword worth its steel should be able to cut. Otherwise it's just a hunk of metal.]

Good luck t'you in killin' him.

[He's starting to like this stranger with his acceptance of death as inevitability of picking fights. His fingers drum on the table.]

You must be older than I am, but you don't sound it. Do you have a name? Everyone calls me Psycho Mantis.

Probably - it's been about 635 years since my forge date. I'm the war sword Doudanuki Masakuni. You can call me Doudanuki or Doutanuki though, it's about the same to me.

[Psycho Mantis, huh? He isn't sure which of those names to use. "Psycho" seems a little...much. Mantis maybe, then?]

[He's still not convinced of living swords, but the man speaks so assuredly of it, he can hardly argue.]

You are definitely older. By at least... [He counts off on his fingers.] Twenty times the time I've been around for. I think I will have an easier time with Doudanuki, as far as names go.

in the shadow of the valley

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