[Chinthe District]Why so Serious? (Open Thread, Mod Wanted)

[Fenrir Black]

31st Brightening of Pontius
Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate
Era XV Post Fractum
14th Candlemark

Something that definitely should be read, yet is not needed, but adds to the warm and delightful atmosphere of this heavenly thread, thus adding some suspense and other tingly feelings to the brains of hamburger-eating whales diagnosed with insanity.Join me plx, I are desperate lololololol


The beaming sun glowed dimly in the late Winter month of Pontius. Snow was still present, and it flourished the land like a carpet of white. The clouds were rather dark and they spoke of a devastating storm waiting to come. There were only a handful of people walking around the Chinthe district at this hour, which was strange considering that it was actually the middle of the day, the hour where most people travel home for their regular breaks and siesta routines. In a district where foreigners and outsiders were the most heavily populated, it would have made sense to see a plethora of cultures intermixing at a rapid speed, yet only a few elfs, a couple of fat dwarves, and a group of random humans stole the scenario.

On his own, Fenrir skipped gleefully across the snow, cackling madly as his pleghm seemed to rise. This was definitely due to the fact that it was so damn cold outside. A man such as Fenrir wasn't entirely used to this horrendous weather. "This weather sucks Rirnef." Spoke Fenrir to his alternate ego. Inside his mind, Rirnef only nodded, possibly too cold himself to reply with a full answer. Fenrir trudged his way onwards, eyeing the random foreigners that passed by him as if he were inspecting them for practicing necromancy. In a few moments, Fenrir stopped one dwarf and asked him, "Sir, do you believe that ponies can fly? Because I do, and I like eating them too." However the man would have reacted, Fenrir would have simply not cared. He glided across the snow once more, not one bit self-conscious and headed to another person. "I have reason to believe that you are actually a sentient cup of ale. Would I be right?" Rirnef laughed as Fenrir asked his pointless questions, although he soon coughed and sniffed his nose. Fenrir, you must be bored. Rirnef inferred. Fenrir nodded just the way that Rirnef nodded to him before.

Afterwards, Fenrir ran across the street and climbed up a rather large statue. Upon reaching the top, he spread his arms out as if he were a god, and breathed heavily as he assumed his god-worthy position. He then cleared his throat, and took a gander at the town around him. People seemed to be so monotonous, so boring. They walked without confidence and without leisure. It was as if they were simply living without a purpose, just carrying on with what happens around them. Pawns on the chessboard. Fenrir raised his voice and then suddenly screamed, "Why so serious!!!"

[Amarillo]

I wonder what I'll accomplish during THIS brightening, now that I've finally gotten to a point where there's a pause in my training schedule? I'm not quite ready to go home; it's only just past midday! thought the slender Kemite male as he hunched his shoulders deeper into the scant warmth offered by his thin tunic. ... And when is this cold spell going to transform itself into something more comfortable?

Indeed, the snow-covered lanes and and byways were anathema to the dark-haired Lauryllian native. Kemites, it seemed, simply were not made for cold weather. give one a warm spring day or an even warmer summer one and the folk of that race would leap and sing for the sheer joy of being outside. Here, in city gripped by the depths of winter's whimsical nature, the normal exuberance of the predominantly-Kemish population was severely dampened.

So miserable was the young man that he failed to notice the aberrant behavior of another, who seemed to be accosting passersby with little or no sense of traditional Kemish propriety. At least, he failed to notice the other's antics until said individual took it upon himself to leap onto the lower section of one of the Chinthe District's ever-present statuary.

"Why so serious..." came the unexpected refrain.

Amarillo stopped dead in his tracks, momentarily nonplussed. Turning his head rapidly toward the sound allowed the snow that had gathered on his collar to slip into the relative warmth provided by his thin clothing. Suppressing yet another shiver, he observed others who were also on the street. Are they all simply listless, with the doldrums of winter pressing down on their lives unabated? Or is there something more sinister at work here, and I've been too engrossed in my own existence to even notice? the second half of the thought made the bard-in-training straighten in the realization that he HAD actually been engrossed in his own problems, rather than seeking out involvement with those of his newly-adopted home who might require whatever aid he could offer.

Even as his voice gathered strength and the words welled up int he back of his throat, Amarillo noticed a slight pathway opening between the passersby ... revealing a narrow thread completely unpeopled extending between where he stood and the figure on the statue. "And just what are you not-so-serious about, friend?" came the returning comment, echoing down the now-cleared sightline.

It was fairly obvious who had made the return comment, as it seemed most of the rest of those out on foot were keeping to whatever had set them on their respective journeys this brightening.

[Fenrir Black]

Fenrir, in all his majestic pride and flamboyance, slowly tilted his head to the side, taking note at the bard who had questioned his motives. A clear path of sorts had been made between them, as if a connection had been established, one that could possibly have easily been broken if some retarded dwarf stood in between. Taking quick note if this opening, and this man's reply, Fenrir spoke, "You there! You ask for what I'm not serious about...I consider that a trivial question!!" Fenrir made no sense as he jumped off of the building, landing on his feet, but slowly crashing to the ground. Ouch... He then stood back up, assuming his glory-stance.

"I'm not too serious about breakfast actually. Sea mammals interest me as well. Sea mammals for breakfast are actually even better!" Fenrir turned his gaze to the sky, imagining a world inhabited by some arbitrary species of land-whale. "Ahh yes, some off-shoot of a whale...with legs! And a beard too!" Despite his age, Fenrir seemed rather childish, a paradox created by his kindergarten-worthy ideas and his deep dark voice. He scratched his head, looking for more ideas to randomly spurt outwards. He then turned around violently and spotted a dwarf, a retarded dwarf at that. Fenrir instantly faced a hand towards Amarillo, indicating some type of 'pause'. The half-kemite's legs sprinted towards a nearby bakery, stealing a loaf of bread. As he returned, Fenrir instantaneously threw the loaf of bread at the unsuspecting dwarf. "Hah! Take that you pencil-shaving eating hippo!"

Fenrir turned back towards Amarillo, taking a deep breath as he wiped a sweat off of his face. "Sorry, the reverse existence of a plethora of tools combusted into a vending machine." What he meant by that could have not possibly been deciphered by even the most talented cryptologist in Aelyria. "So my fellow animal of Telath, what trade brought you your apple-skin?"

[Ayameko Gicha]

Ayameko was not sure what she doing out on this cold day, it had seemed like a good idea when she set out this morning, but it really was just too cold for her slender frame, and her cotton kimono did not hold in enough warmth, but better than being naked, she thought to herself. As she walked she realized most people had planned better than she by staying indoors. But nonetheless Ayameko had hoped that there was something going on in this town, but apparently not.

She was on here way back home when she saw a sort of disturbance ahead, a man had been climbing and childplaying on a statue, shouting something she could not hear. As she got closer a slender, kemite mad shouted back at him,

"And just what are you not-so-serious about, friend?"

This seemed to set the man on the statue off, not in anger it seemed, just off, as he leapt off the statue and shouted a few more things, eventually stealing a load of bread and chucking it at a dwarf. Ayameko thought this was rather rude, but she was not in her Clan district nor did she know the dwarf, so she ignored it. But it did seem intriguing so she walked closer to see what else was going to unfold between the two. She stood stock-still out in the open watching, shivering all the while, she wasn't making an effort to hide herself because she wasn't particularly afraid.

(OoC: I hope you do not mind me joining!)

[Amarillo]

If I'd minded my own business, I wouldn't be caught up in this fool's shenanigans. And that home would probably still have bread for their evening meal... the young man thought to himself. It seemed that his innocuous question had somehow sparked even more in the way of nonsensical behaviour from the other Kemite who leapt from his statuesque perch - only to fall ignomiously to the snow-covered street.

More words that simply had no meaning to the bard-to-be pounded at his senses, dulling them even further than the cold still seeping uncontrollably through his thin garments. He felt that he * should * be able to make sense of them; words were his stock-in-trade, as it were. That, and a crown or two could buy someone a pint of warm mead at one of the local taverns... he realized ruefully.

His gaze moved quickly to where the bread had been flung; seeing the dwarf relatively unscathed, Amarillo began to turn back toward the madman who had continued to speak. His maneouver was halted almost immediately, as he recognized the shivering of the kimono-clad young woman for what it was - the typical Kemite aversion to winter's lack of warmth and sun. He reached behind him for his ever-present sack ... only to find that he'd left it behind this brightening, since he'd left his home with the intent of going straight to the Wolfmoon Tavern for a hot meal.

His dark brown gaze narrowed slightly as he swiftly crossed possibilities off his list: no cloak to offer, no overclothing of any sort, no spare shirts or trews, no warm tisanes suddenly ready to hand ... in short, he was without means of assuaging her condition. Unless ...

Avoiding a few passersby with consummate grace, he stepped elegantly to her side. Looking down somewhat, the youth noted that he was slightly shorter than the woman ... not by much, but enough that he DID have to tip his head to look into her eyes directly. He ignored the bombast of the bread-thrower, and concentrated momentarily on the set of her eyes. Blinking once, he spoke softly, asking "Serale, mistress. I have naught save my own body warmth ... would you step closer so that I might put my arm around you, drawing you at least partially out of the wind?"

Even as he finished the sentence, the significance of the wild-mannered statue-hopper's actions dawned on the more strait-laced Amarillo. He's actually stolen a loaf of bread, and then attacked another citizen ... at least, if you can call being smacked by a flying loaf an outright attack!

"Stand away, you troublemaker! As a citizen of this District, I hereby ask that you desist these meaningless attempts at skulduggery. I would have your name, sir!" he called back to the waiting miscreant.

He hoped his posture of legality would at least partially intimidate the other man; he'd seen enough of backroom brawls in his short tenure on Telath to treat even the possibility of one with the utmost respect. Even if the other fellow had no idea of his fighting skills, the bard recognized his own limitations in the more combat-oriented pastimes.

He stood, head turned slightly in the other male's direction; his right arm extended in a half-curve toward the shorter female only a pace or two distant ... waiting to see what the next few moments would bring. He hadn't offered his name - yet - to either of the others; that was a last recourse in attempting to divert them to another course of action.

[Fenrir Black]

Fenrir eyed Amarillo manically, directing his piercing black eyes at Amarillo's own as if he had spotted a treasure chest with a million crowns. He closed his fist as he looked back towards the dwarf that he hit with that rather hard loaf of bread, he didn't seem to happy, but nonetheless did not retaliate at once. So boring these days huh Fenrir? asserted Rirnef, scratching his inverse, white hair with his claw-like nails. Fenrir nodded acquittingly, speaking back to his alternate-ego softly. Too many people are afraid Rirnef. It's like a sausage being baked in a melting pot. You now Fenrir....that actually made sense.

Fenrir closed in towards Amarillo, grinning all the while. It had seemed that another - boring - subject made its way into the playing field, shivering due to the cold weather. Poor girl thought Fenrir, shifting his ephemeral gaze from Amarillo to the cold female. She witnessed Amarillo comforting her, allowing a wonderfully insane smile to come across Fenrir's already manical face. As Amarillo called for his name, Fenrir smiled with even more intensity, finding much interest in this man's actions. "I'm Fenrir Black, nobody knows me and I'm the strangest person in Zinn'Sunn." Fenrir laughed as he boasted his flaws as if he were one hundred and ten percent proud of them. "I like frying mashed potatoes with granite. It makes them much more salty." In his mind, Fenrir thought of a world with granite-baked potatoes, drooling slightly before he wiped his mouth.

"I like the way you're wrapping your arm around that girl. It makes me feel jealous. I love feeling jealous you know? You know why? Because it makes me angry. When I'm angry, I can do unpredictable things. You see, I'm a very open guy. I have an alternate-ego who made me this insane. But as you can see, I was previously a little insane already. But what would this world be without insanity huh? You look like you know a thing or two about growth. What do you think developed this country? It wasn't liberty or democracy, I can tell you that." After dictating his speech, Fenrir assumed his manical grin once more, caressing the handle of his dagger. Rirnef, although dormant in Fenrir's mind, cackled madly as he rolled across the figurative floor of Fenrir's conscience. Fenrir, are you trying to break him?

[Ayameko Gicha]

Ayameko was taken aback by the man who so quickly offered his body heat to her, and although she felt honored to be offered that, she also felt she was not a delicate flower that needs to be handled with the utmost care or it would die. And not to mention she did not think it was prudent of someone of her social status in Zinn'Sunn to be caught with a strangers arm around her, it would just not be right, "Serale to you too sir, and thank you for the kind offer, but, I am going to have to politely decline. I am not as cold as I may appear." This was a half-hearted lie, she may be shivering but she is used to the cold and she just could not accept that level of contact with a stranger, she hoped he would understand it was nothing personal.

Though she did greatly respect the man for what he was doing: standing up to this man, who although he may be insane he should not be pestering innocent bystanders, or really anyone in this case. And once again he started to scream nonsense things, like potatoes on granite, and that he is the most insane person in Zinn'Sunn and yet no one knew him. Which may be true, she thought, he was rather insane and Ayameko had never heard of him before.

But she called out to him after he had finished his monologue, "Sir, I may have to disagree with you on several points. First he offered his arm and did not wrap it around me, and I am sure this kind gentleman," this was not true, she was not sure at all because she did not know the short kemite, "would offer you the same as he did to me. So there is no reason to be jealous, despite of the fact that you love being jealous. Also I do not mean to split hairs with you sir, but I do not think that the most unpredictable people are the ones who are angry, they are the calm and collected ones. Angry people tend to follow patterns because they are so enraged, where as calm people can lash out unexpectedly. Just my thoughts"

Ayameko took a moment to wipe a loose strand of hair out of her eye, and as she did so she noticed that the insane man's hand was fiddling with something, something she wasn't sure what, but made her nervous, bt she did not let this show. Instead she called out again, "But I agree I do not think we have gotten to where we are today by liberty nor democracy, rather through bloodthirst and pain. But what do you think? And can you tell me about your alternate-ego? What does he tell you to do?"

All this while Ayameko had slipped closer to the man who had offered his body warmth, the insane man could lash out at any moment and two people are better than one, and when she was next to him she whispered, "It may not be the best time for introductions, but I am Ayameko Gicha and I think we have stepped into a precarious situation. But really, it is a pleasure to meet you." And with this she offered a warm, sincere smile. If this man was familiar with the clans of Zinn'Sunn he would recognize her name as the daughter of Haido Gicha, leader of Clan Dragon, or at least related to him. All the while she spoke she kept her eye on the apparently insane man.

[Amarillo]

Black. The madman’s name was Black. With that name, he CAN’T be pure clan stock. Could he be from the Outlands, perhaps? Or was he simply a street urchin that had somehow lasted long enough to reach adulthood?

The younger man shuddered involuntarily as a thin stream of spittle ran from the corner of the taller man’s lip. Having to view that kind of spectacle - along with the feverish glint in the man’s eyes - was no task for the faint at heart. On the good side, Amarillo was strong in his beliefs; whether he was as strong in his actions remained to be seen. Things hadn’t come to the proverbial boiling point just yet … but it was easy enough to see that they were headed that way with all the grace of a runaway pack camel.

The man called Black also mentioned anger. That was an emotion somewhat unfamiliar to Luminous’ trainee; there had never been reason to be ANGRY. Sure, there were a few times when he’d disagreed with the individuals responsible for his upbringing … but it wouldn’t have been called anger.

And insanity. As soon as the syllables crackled through the frigid air, the shorter man knew things were possibly going to get worse. A LOT worse. And if it turned that way, it would probably happen quickly. He let his gaze swivel in both directions slightly, to see if any of the guardsmen were passing through this portion of the District. None were immediately visible … which turned the extremities of the younger man even colder. In his search for possible reinforcements, he initially missed Black’s hand going toward his weapon.

The polite refusal by the cotton-clad beauty was to be expected; he’d acted inappropriately, as far as the stultified city culture was concerned. The proper way to meet a woman was to write first to her father, then meet with both her parents, and discuss what the male could bring to the relationship. Or, he though wryly, better to say what the suitor could bring to the family or clan. His acceptance turned almost immediately to shock, as the young woman proceeded to harangue the madman on her own terms. However, as she continued to stand up to Black’s rantings, the shock burgeoned into something more akin to … something else. Even Amarillo was unsure what to call this newfound feeling – but he did know it WASN’T shock!

As she spoke of overarching ideas like liberty and democracy, his Kemish heart pumped harder, pushing the sluggish blood a little faster within his winter-chilled veins. Above the roaring in his ears, he heard himself cry out in return. “True, our culture’s foundation was grown from bloodshed; what keeps it together now is the concept of peace.” He couldn’t really say it was founded on liberty or democracy … if that were the case, there would be no lesser-classed citizenry anywhere within the deLylles’ provincial stronghold. He let his dark brown eyes sweep over the slightly taller young woman nearby, gauging her actions as best he might. It would have to be a guess, of course; he’d never come across anyone of her bearing or apparent status before. Almost immediately he focused on Black – NOW he could see the hilt of some sort of weapon close to hand. He’d have to be ready for …

“It may not be the best time … Ayameko Gicha … pleasure …” came the whisper from nearby. His jaw dropped open in stunned surprise; after politely refusing his original gesture, the young woman - No, she has a name and it’s Ayameko! - had stepped toward him. The two Kemites were almost – but not quite – touching. He thought he could hear the thudding of her heart as she approached. More likely, however, it was simply the pounding of his pulse drowning out the natural rhythms of life on the street. His normal eloquence left him and he was forced to partially stutter a reply … just as he had that first brightening in the Ivory Tower.

“S-s-serale, Mistress Gicha. I am known as L-l-l-lu. I mean, Amarillo.” It had come out very low, so low that if she hadn’t been listening for it, it might have been lost amid the crowd’s comings and goings. He’d meant to add Pleased to meet you as well, but somehow he’d come to the realization that the current situation was beyond the bounds of normal Kemish courtesy. He flashed a lopsided grin in return for her sincere smile. He could picture her as a lady of stature in the community; however, being clanless himself – and an outsider to boot - he did not immediately recognize the connection between her family name and Dragon Clan.

He held his palms away from his sides for an instant - just long enough to show her that he was unarmed. He'd do what he could against the madman's weapon. AFTER he made sure she was free to run...

[Fenrir Black]

Fenrir sighed. It seemed that they were actually attempting to reason with them, something that should never be done when faced with an insane maniac such as Fenrir. This Ayameko Gicha character was actually getting somewhat on Fenrir's nerves, tingling a section of his brain, causing him to get even more irate than he used to. He crossly crossed his arms and awaited Amarillo's response on the matter. Not much to his surprise, his response was also of hardly any noteworthy praise. Just a bunch of babbling about bloodshed. They really don't know the reason. However, Fenrir was somewhat surprised at Ayameko's curiosity of Rirnef and his motives. "My alternate ego is a fun guy. He has interesting points of views on life and such, which makes for great philosophical conversations about cheese." Fenrir nodded at his own answer acquittingly, appearing bold yet somewhat condescending at the same time.

"His name is Rirnef. He likes killing living or unliving beings, slaughtering, torturing, raping, thievery, and throwing eggplants at politicians whenever he gets the chance. Everything he goes through, I have to go through as well. Isn't that fun? It's like constantly having somebody with you, even if you don't want him around. That's an annoying feeling, but I like it somehow." Fenrir got lost in conversation, revealing more than he would regularly like to on most occasions. It seemed that Rirnef's control over Fenrir's emotion and attitude was increasing by siginificant milestones. It had only been two and a half months since Fenrir came into contact with his alternate ego, yet he already had so much influence over Fenrir.

"Oh well. It's getting boring here. I've had enough of this boring place." His tone had changed as if a completely different being had taken over his mind. One might have assumed that his alternate-ego had somewhat 'taken over', although that would typically be a misjudgment. Fenrir was a rather...complex person. "By the way, have you seen my knife? It's a little rusty." Fenrir held up his knife without caution. "God, I've lived here all my life and I still don't know where I can get this fixed up. Would you two happen to know a good blacksmith here?" Disgruntled, Fenrir threw his knife up into the sky directly behind him, unaware of the causes that might occur from it.

[Ayameko Gicha]

When Fenrir started talking about his alter ego's hobbies, which was basically anything violence, Ayameko put her guard on. This man was mentally unstable, and it appeared that he was having some sort of break down, or possibly a better description, a transition into his alter ego Rirnef, who sounded more unstable than Fenrir.

Before she could respond to his monologue, Fenrir, or maybe Rirnef, started to speak again, pulling out a knife. He started to complain about it being rusty and then, of all things, he threw the knife! Right over his head and behind him! Ayameko was nervous when he pulled it out, and was even more nervous when he started speaking, because there was a definite change in the way he was speaking. Something strange was going on here.

As for the throwing the knife, Ayameko had no idea what to do. All she could do as it flew the air was to watch it and feel her mind race. She had not training in a field of combat, arcana, or trade that could help her stop it. All she could think of to do was to yell out, as loudly as she could, "Watch out!" But she was not sure if people behind him would hear. Nor did she know if she called out in time, or that anyone was really in danger. She just turned and stared at the man on her side, mouthing to him the words "what are we going to do with him."

[Amarillo]

A Snowball's Chance

By Black’s own admission, there was apparently another individual squeezed into the same shell of a man. He shuddered involuntarily – that HAD to be uncomfortable, no matter how much the two personalities liked or admired one another. He had enough trouble dealing with the incessant symphony echoing through his own skull, just below the level of true audibility, to have some sympathy for Fenrir’s plight. Still, there was nothing he could do for the man … at least, not immediately. On the other hand …

“Black! Did you need to talk to someone about …” He stopped, his jaw dropping for the second time in a hand’s span of minutes. He reached out with his right hand, pushing none-too-gently on the woman’s shoulder as the weapon in the other man’s hand flashed into motion. His reaction was instinctive – to get Ayameko out of harm’s way. In the fraction of an instant his movement cost him, he noted that it had been unnecessary – the weapon’s direction of travel was skyward and slightly to the rear. There appeared to be no thought for possible consequences, which was something the shorter Kemite simply did not understand. He’d already been through enough this Winter season to have a healthy respect for the vagaries of the Aetherian deities. He saw no reason to tempt the Fates any more than was absolutely necessary.

His warning yell to those who were in the path of the blade’s curving passage echoed the higher-pitched warning emanating from the young woman beside him. Even in the midst of this minor crisis, a portion of him marveled at the graceful warmth she exuded so readily. Perhaps if she extended that same warmth to Fenrir? He didn’t have the opportunity to follow that thought to its conclusion, though.

He watched, almost mesmerized, as the light from the twin suns glinted unevenly from the rusted surface of the sharp implement. It spun once – twice – still heading toward the apogee of its arc. Alternating between deadly point and somewhat-less-deadly hilt, it continued its slow-motion tumble toward the crowd even now milling helpless and unsuspecting in the maniac’s wake. He bent his head, not wanting to witness the resulting chaos.

Wait! There WAS something he could do! The dirty grayish mass at his feet was a residue of the season in which they found themselves. Snow! Exhibiting some of the speed for which his race was famed, Amarillo knelt and scooped up a healthy handful of the water-logged mess. Not waiting to compact it more than a single pass with his other hand would accomplish, he flung his own missile in the direction of the dagger. Unfortunately his aim was not as good as his intent; the snowball sailed wide of the mark. However, being thrown harder, it landed among the folk behind Fenrir first, sparking a few disgruntled glares as people looked for the source of the object. Quickly, he fired more and more of them, filling the zone with wet, mushy, dirty snow. One passerby actually looked skyward – and noted the approaching steel-and-wooden weapon. Giving his own yell of surprise, he pushed away from the impact zone, brushing against another of the townsfolk in his haste, dumping that unfortunate into a nearby drift.

Soon enough, the street had turned into a small free-for-all, with handfuls of snow being flung in all directions as people alternately gave and received some of the season’s under-appreciated bounty. From where he stood, still some distance from the man with the insane glint in his eye, Amarillo watched the proceedings with the beginning of a smile. For the moment, at least, it looked like potential disaster had been averted. He fired his last missile ... directly at Fenrir.

[Fenrir Black]

Fenrir had not even considered looking back towards the suspended dagger, focused more on his question and the responses of the two in front of him. He responded in his usual casual tone towards Ayameko, "Watch out for what? Flying bunny rabbits of destruction? Seen them already..." However, in the resulting seconds that were to come, something unexpected and quite hilarious was about to unfold. Fenrir noted Amarillo's behavior, as he gathered the snowball. Is he going to throw it at me? He better. Thought Fenrir as he waited for the result of Amarillo's moment-made snowball.

Instead, Amarillo chose to disappoint Fenrir, attempting to throw it at the dagger itself. The snowball could only reach so far before it landed directly on the soft skin of a nearby civilian's face. In only a few seconds, a full-blast onslaught of white canons would have enraged the entire Chinthe District in utter mayhem. "Perfect!!!!!" screamed Fenrir as an onslaught of snowballs pelted him to the ground. He rolled around playfully in the dirty snow, cheering as he witnessed the chaos that sprung about.

He looked back towards the two who stood in front of him, moving closer to them as he gathered and handful of snow in his hands. As he got closer and closer, he shouted in a distorted, yet casual timbre, "So what are your names! It's not kind for one person to introduce theirself and not getting one back in return!!" Fenrir shaped a handful of snow into white spheres of doom, grinning as he aimed one at Ayameko and the other Amarillo. Both snowballs would have jolted from Fenrir's hands and into the direction of their faces.

[Ayameko Gicha]

Ayameko was sort of amazed that Fenrir thought she had been shouting watch out to him, had he already forgotten that he had thrown the dagger behind him. Luckily, Amarillo's fast thinking, and speedy snowball throwing, did much more help than her pathetic shout had. The knife landed on the ground, not striking anyone.

But now apparently Fenrir thought that they were all playing a game, just having fun throwing snow at each other. He even had two balls ready to throw at them, laughing and asking for their names, "You can just call me Ayameko." She did not feel that need to state her last name to this man, he would probably not recognize it.

Anyways she prepared for the snowball onslaught by ducking her head down, arm in fro