AV Ch 00.1. Making Headlines

    A young man, dressed all in black, sat and read from a newspaper entitled simply The Word in the restaurant of Locanda del Sogno Promettente. A cup of coffee steamed on the table next to him and a set of ear buds played Linkin Park’s “Shadow of the Day” in his ears from the charcoal-black iPod concealed in his pocket.

    He yawned, rubbed a sore spot on his neck, and brushed chestnut-brown bangs behind his ears, avoiding the small horns on his forehead. Even though most of his hair hung in a thin ponytail from the base of his skull down to the floor, he kept a top layer at chin length that often annoyed him when it got in his face.

    Less than a month away from his twentieth birthday, Kuinra Shisa’s appearance was one of angelic malevolence. He stood six-foot-one with a lithe muscular build and broad shoulders. His face was young and androgynous, with rounded cheeks that curved downward into a smooth, rounded chin.

    He wore the kind of black shorts seen in Gothic/Punk subcultures, accented with bright green stitching and silver studs. Bright green straps hung from the waist while a studded leather belt held them up, joined by an additional set of belts that crossed just above his groin. One of them was another of black leather and hung from his right hip; the other was made of silver chain links with gray feathers hanging every few inches and fastened with a unique buckle: a flower-like configuration of eight lozenge-shaped petals extending from a ninth lozenge center, giving it a crystalline appearance. The symbol was known as a Crystal Flower, and it was adorn on every building and structure in the village.

    The mythril mesh of his black shirt hugged his torso under his black trench coat as he stretched. The coat was of his own design, with zippered shoulder straps, four rows of straps with silver studs running down the front, and a sheet of metal on each bicep. A long white bandage clung to his right forearm under the sleeve, the end falling to his feet, companion to the silver gauntlet he wore on his left. His shoes were classic Chuck Taylors worn over black socks pulled up to the ends of his shorts, exposing none of the pale flesh on his legs. A fan of accessories, Kuinra wore a studded black dog collar and a silver chain holding a charm resembling crossed angel wings around his neck. A simple silver band encircled his left ring finger.

    Capping off his appearance, the small horns on his forehead accompanied a silver ring hovering over his head and a pair of great gray wings. They extended from between his shoulder blades and were as tall as him, reaching all the way to the ground.

    Two swords hung one above the other from his separate belts. The hilt of the lower one was a simple grip wrapped in dark leather with a circular gold pommel embedded with a black stone. Rather than a traditional guard, the base of the blade widened, forged and detailed into the shape of a canine’s paw. A black feather hung from the end of the grip.

    Contrasting the first sword’s simplicity, the one above it was decorative enough to belong to a king. The grip and guard were both gold, the former adorned with a line of emeralds and the latter resembling golden wings extending from a circular gold piece engraved with fleur-de-lis designs. A large diamond formed the pommel, from which hung a pocket watch on a gold chain. The handle ended at the guard with a gold kite-shaped piece embedded with a sapphire. Between the guard and the blade was a crystal sphere housing a gold bust of a lion’s head.

    ‘Maybe I should let it all grow out,’ he pondered his hair as he sipped his coffee. Turning the page of his paper, he raised a brow at the headline emblazed across the page:

VATICAN EMPLOYS RPG TO CLEAN UP WLC REMAINS 

Following the fall of the illustrious White Light Committee’s [WLC] main branch at the hands of a rogue Mythical six months ago, the Vatican announced this week that they would be officially shutting down the organization as a whole. During the months since the attack, the Vatican has been working around the clock to salvage what was once the most influential organization in the Mythical World. However, with the loss of their main branch came also the loss of centuries’ worth of information and research, as well as many other top-secret files and projects.

While the Vatican hasn’t issued an official statement regarding the attack, it is known that the Committee was in the process of pursuing what is believed to be a Class A or Class S Mythical who, in retaliation, attacked the White Fortress, wiping it off the map in a single night. No survivors have been found from the attack, nor were there any witnesses. All video footage taken from surveillance equipment within and around the White Fortress prior to the attack became corrupted shortly after the building disappeared, making it useless in an investigation.

After declaring the WLC a total loss, the Vatican announced that control of all remaining assets will be turned over to the Paris-based organization Rite of the Phoenix Guild [RPG] later this week. While many organizations stepped forward to assist the Vatican during this trying time, the decision to turn control over to RPG came after RPG Director Salvador Brightwing issued the following statement:

“The Rite of the Phoenix Guild was deeply saddened when the Committee fell. Our two organizations have worked together many times in the past, and we only wish that the Committee had reached out to us for help in their time of need. We hope that we can step in to pick up the pieces of the WLC and bring them into the RPG family.”

Brightwing, a brilliant technician and doctor in the field of metaphysical biology, started RPG himself less than twenty years ago. In such a short time, the organization has managed to quell many out-of-control Mythical situations, including the Paris Werewolf Outbreak seven years ago. Perhaps the most astounding aspect of RPG is the fact that they do not employ non-Human members of the Mythical World, making them one of the only paranormal agencies in the world comprised solely of Talents. However, with the acquisition of former WLC employees, this has potential to change.

“Rite of the Phoenix Guild exists to keep the members of the Mythical World in their place,” said Brightwing. “Talents are more Human than they are Mythical. While we don’t discriminate blindly against all Mythicals, having Humans and Mythicals together in the workplace defeats the purpose of the Complete Separation of Worlds Act. Humans and Mythicals simply can’t co-exist in today’s world, and that includes in the workplace. No matter what, there will always be a sense of loyalty to their own kind, and that creates unnecessary tension.”

When asked what would become of Mythical employees who would start working under RPG, Brightwing had this to say:

“We’re not going to start slashing Mythicals for that reason alone. It is RPG’s desire to remain a Human-only organization, but the process will be a slow one. All Mythicals brought in will be helped in relocating to organizations that are better prepared to work with them and can make use of their skills. We are also in the process of creating top-notch retirement programs for Mythicals who want to leave the agency and live peaceful lives.”

The acquisition will officially start this week, when RPG will be touring the remaining WLC facilities across Europe to assess damages and what can be used. It is hoped that the full acquisition will be complete within…

    “What is this garbage?” Kuinra flouted, folding the paper without finishing the article and tossing it across the table.

    A small waitress with blonde hair and insect-like antennae approached, a pot of fresh coffee in hand. “Is something wrong Mr. Shisa?”

    Kuinra looked up at her and removed his ear buds. “Hm? No, everything’s fine Eva,” he said with a dismissive wave. The article had soured his mood. He quickly wound the cord around his iPod and stashed it away.

    Finishing his coffee, he rose from his seat and dropped a gold coin on the table. “It’s just another annoyance is all,” he said in parting to the girl as he walked toward the door, his two swords bouncing against his left thigh with a soft thump.

    “Does this interfere with some master plan of yours?” asked a voice in his head.

    Kuinra sighed as he walked outside into the forest sun, which was green and only ever as bright as twilight under the canopy, lending to Kuinra’s pale complexion

    “My only plan is the betterment of the Mythical World,” he replied as he crossed the open village square. It was a wide space at the heart of the village, where people could often be found picnicking and children found playing. Suspended several feet above him was a large wooden platform that covered the entire square. “RPG is the opposite of that.”

    He paused in the middle of the clearing under the platform, in front of Fontana del Sogno dell’Arcobaleno. A grand and beautiful fountain carved entirely of white marble. In the center of its pool was a large white tree surrounded by tiny people spiraling from the base of the trunk all the way into the canopy.

    “So what will you do?” asked the voice.

    “Simple,” he said nonchalantly, flipping a coin into the water before continuing to the other end of the square. “If they get in my way, I’ll crush them.”

    He approached a set of trees at the end of the clearing, one slightly behind the other. Reaching out, he touched the trunk of the one further back, causing a large opening big enough for him to enter to grow in the side. Inside was a hollow space, larger than the tree it was housed in, made of polished metal and filled with the kind of equipment common of an auto repair shop. Parked in the center of the space was his motorcycle, one not like any seen in the Human World.

    A bulky machine, the widest part was the middle with it narrowing toward the nose. The back end was mostly normal, except for the large exhaust pipes that started at the engine at the front and ended on the sides if the back tire. Two front tires stretched out beyond the nose, held by arms that attached near the handlebars, between which a ten-inch monitor was mounted.

    Incubo was its name.

    Mounting the bike and revving the engine loudly, Kuinra held off on moving out when he noticed something was missing and began patting around his jacket.

    “Lose something?” the voice in his head asked.

    “My badge. Oh wait, here it is.” He pulled it out from an inner coat pocket. It was a simple silver object; a Crystal Flower-shape with a single word in raised letters across it: SHERIFF.

    “That’s not something to lose, you twit.”