Cross the Sky

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Name: Michito
Race: Avian (Nightingale clan)
Age: 19
Flower: Shiragiku-White Chrysanthemum (truth)
Appearance: He looks younger than he really is partly because of his bone structure and small stature. His bones are on the light side, even for an Avian, and will break more easily. His skin is pale because he hasn't been exposed to sunlight for so long. With his delicately pointed face and pointed ears, he would look like a fairy if it wasn't for the wings. Like his hair, his wings are white because he is an albino. His ruby eyes are extremely sensitive to light, and most of the time he is simply blindfolded. His last owner usually dressed him in dominantly white, silver, and crimson embroidered kimonos.
Personality: He is generally rather solemn and serious, but he also likes to laugh. His senses, except for his sight, are very acute. His hearing is especially good, so it almost always seems like he knows when someone is around. It's still quite easy to get him flustered, despite his usual calm and solemn attitude. Holds rather high concerns in the area of civil rights, especially for non-human species and half breeds. Tends to be uptight about moral issues. Sings mostly when happy or sad.
Background: Michito grew up in one of the last free nightingale clans. Nightingale Avians are particularly popular on the illegal pet market, since a they are the rarest variety of Avian and are incredibly hard to breed. As an albino, Michito was ostracized as a child. He was spotted when he was wandering in the forest by himself one day, because of his coloring. He was then captured and sold to a rich old man. Michito lived happily in his Master's house for eight years, and then a band of thieves killed the master during a raid. They took Michito with them, and plan on selling him for a large profit.
Likes: being useful, helping others, learning, nighttime
Dislikes: being powerless, his own social awkwardness, his looks, having to look after bratty kids, slavers, poachers, thieves
Picture: sketch pending

Name: Nyuuba
Race: Djinn; takes the form of a human
Age: N/A -- appears in his twenties
Appearance: A tall, tanned figure with delicate features. He has a long, narrow face and defined jaw line. His daring gold eyes peak out from behind dark lashes, well his hair is a messy combination of a sandy beige with salmon red - accented by few strands of braided beads. His lips hold a tinge of gold lines in the center, a decorative make up that goes well with a almost costume-like-wardrobe. From his elegant clothing and the amount of items he carries on his person, its clear he has seen many parts of the world. On his back he carries an odd-looking case that holds a variety of trinkets to sell.
Personality: A slightly aloof and mysterious man, he tends to keep to himself until he has made things his business. He seems often to do things for his own profit and can be hard to trust. To those he opens up to, he has a rather odd sense of humor and interest in the world around him. He enjoys trickery, and gives little warning of the peculiar and cursed items he sells. On occasion, Nyuuba has been known to give artifacts free, particularly to thieves, if only so they experience the sometimes ill effects that come with the item.
Background: Nyuuba is a traveling merchant whom collects pieces of the most rare and exotic varieties. His origin is unknown to most. Much of what he sells is considered 'cursed.' He appears to have alterior motives to his trade.
Likes: Rare, haunted or cursed items, silk, feathers
Dislikes: Those with ill intent towards him, thieves and 'demons'
Picture: // rough //

Blood was staining his hands, blossoming bright crimson against white skin. Cheers and whoops and raucous shouting filled his ears from all directions as the thieves looted the mansion and destroyed whatever they couldn't take. Michito wished he couldn't see the form that lay on the ground in front of him. The old man had been kind to him, had treated him like the son he never had. But now he was dead. He touched his master's face again, and the blood on his hands smeared. Michito brought his hands away, looking at the blood but not really seeing it.

Someone lit a fire, and the thieves shouted in frenzied excitement. They were drunk on the success of a grand raid. Michito could hear the crackling of the fire as it spread from an upper floor. Shouldn't he be doing something to stop all of this destruction? He lurched his feet only to find himself grabbed around the waist by a the leader of the thieves. “Where d'you think yer goin', sweetheart?” The man laughed, his eyes mad in the light of the spreading fire. “Yer comin' with us, and then you'll have a nice, cozy little cage with the rest of yer filthy kind in the pet market, haha!” Michito gasped as his ribs were squeezed, making it hard to breath. His bones creaked in the man's vice-like grip. Desperately, he hoped none of his bones would break before he got away from them. The leader cackled as he led the way out of the house, his companions laden with gold, silver, jewels, and other fine articles. Michito himself was thrown over the man's burly shoulder. He had the distinct pleasure of watching his home burn, imagining his master's body going up in flames with everything else.

The thieves sold him off to a dealer in the underground market within two days. Michito attracted too much attention with his bizarre coloring, pale as snow. And as a rarity among the rarest of birds, the thieves made quite a profit off of him. Albino nightingale Avians were unheard of. In the underground, a curious crowd constantly gathered around his cage, gawking at him. He kept his eyes shut and tried to keep his face huddled to his knees, but an attendant would come by to poke him every so often. He wasn't allowed to hide his face from potential buyers. The gazes of so many people made him extremely nervous, especially since so many looked like they wanted to eat him or beat him up.

The only comfort he had was the small hairpin hidden in the lining of his sleeve. It was decorated with a delicate white chrysanthemum made of enamel and silver wire. Michito felt lucky that it hadn't broken from all the rough handling. Master had given it to him in celebration of his first anniversary after arriving at the mansion. That day was treated like his birthday every year after that, with little parties and cakes. They were such happy memories.

Michito was startled from his reminiscing when he realized a rather pasty, shifty looking man was staring straight into his face. The man smiled when he jumped. Michito noted the black, crooked teeth and shuddered in disgust. He disappeared quickly, though, and the nightingale put it from his mind. But the pasty man was back within a few minutes with the Avian dealer. The dealer was taking a key out of his pocket. Michito's heart thumped wildly. If he could escape and fly away... But the pasty man must have read his thoughts, because he grabbed a hold of Michito's wrist though the bars of the cage. The door was opened, and he struggled against the man's grip as he was dragged out.

Pulling his arm free after getting out of the cage, he stretched his wings, about to take off. But again, the pasty man grabbed his ankle with one hand, and held an ornate little box in the other. With a flash, Michito felt himself being dragged backwards. His eyes watered from the sudden, strong light, but he fought against the pull anyway. His efforts were useless. He landed on the floor with a thud.

It was pitch black. Michito looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He could still hear the sounds of people passing by, but he couldn't see them. While it was dark in the underground there was still a dim amount of light to see by. Michito could even see more in the dark than the average human, or even Avian, because his ruby red eyes were too sensitive to sunlight. At home, he was allowed to sleep during the day and run around at night for this reason. But he still couldn't see anything other than blackness.

Panicking a little, he tried to feel around for a wall, or something to indicate where he was. All of a sudden, a numbness spread from his hands and feet to the rest of his body. Slowly, his mobility was impaired to the point where he couldn't move a muscle. For some reason, he could see again. He blinked as a dark shadow closed over him, like the lid of a box. Then it was utter darkness again.

((Heh, sorry it took so long. This isn't as long as I thought it would be, but it's still a good enough setup, I think. You might be able to just jump in with Nyuuba, if you want. I don't understand why it's so hard to find pictures of male albinos with RED EYES. So I'm just going to draw Michito. Eventually. XP))

((Hahaha... It seems impossible to find good pictures when you know what you're looking for, its when you don't that you come across the nice ones.

But yes, I I'll be able to put Nyuuba in with upcoming events. Or at least, give him some opening. I think I'll pull some NPC strings as well;; of course, thats what I said I'd do in the first place, after all. My apologies if I should have went somewhere else with this; I wasn't completely sure where to go with it. ))

"Ya heard about the Avain?"
The question came from the deep voice of a sketchy looking woman, her eyes -- or rather eye - peaking out behind the edges of a fan that served its purpose only in covering her wrinkles, a bubbling scar down her left socket.

"Ah, shut up you hag. No one will be seeing that birdy around for a while..." Another man spoke up, a hooded shawl shadowing his face and masking appearance. Underneath it hid the start of richly colored dress, the thin hilt of a sword. The beat up yet wealthy appearances of those around mirrored easily their dirty backgrounds, hid yet revealed their business to any on looker. Not that anyone in the surrounding area wasn't fully aware of just what sort of business went on here.

"'Heard someone took him, he did. Went 'round to see him in his cage there the other day and it was all packed up n' gone."

Their conversation had already caught the widespread attention of a few onlookers. Normally, the market was full of all sorts of shady folk and seedy trades, and it wouldn't be unusual for an item you were scoping out to be there one second and gone the next. Yet, the rarity of such a pet had stuck in the memory of a few, and brought a bit of controversy over the subject.

Another man lurked back from the group that now argued more than discussed the 'current events'. His attention focused first on their conversation, second on the costumer he was tending to, managing to make it appear the other way around. He'd heard from word-of-mouth of the nightingale, although disappointment struck a chord in hearing it was no longer available. Certainly, he wouldn't be the only one.

"So you said this crystal heres gunna bring about some fortune?" A voice asked -- the voice of his customer, distracting his attention from the conversation he'd been listening up on. The man's lips curved into the edge of a grin as the customer looked over his current offered ware.

"Something like that," the merchant responded, knowing all too well the object would end up doing nothing of the sort. The male customer gave him a funny look, grunted under the weight of his own gut and bit off a chunk of silver from inside a pouch to hand to the merchant. He smiled at the customer, offered him a new deal: "You know. I will just let you have it."

The rounder man looked up at the tall, tan merchant, then down at the crystal prism in his own hand, wondering what must be wrong with the piece if he were handing it out free. The customer decided to go against his better judgment and instead let out a loud, belly laugh. "You're a good man in my books, a good man. Wuh'did you say your name was?"

The merchant hadn't told him his name, but knew this was his way of finding it out. His response was short, lacked any title many of the men here with their self imploding egos might have given themselves. "Nyuuba."

The stout man slapped his arm around the merchant, pulled him down so they were nearly the same height, said something a little closer to his ear. "Well, I'll tell you what Nyuuba. You gave me this pretty little gem free of charge, so let me let you in on a little 'secrets 'round here. You wanna know 'bout the Avian, don't ya? I seen you listening up on them over there. Well, between you -- and me -- lets just say hes tweetin' for a much smaller crowd."

The merchant, Nyuuba, was a little more appreciative towards this man now that he was willing to disclose a bit of information with him. "A smaller crowd?" he echoed, opening a small pouch that tied to his belt and picking out an item as incentive to the man. He passed a small but fluorescent pebble into the other's hand -- bribery, the only way to get what you wanted here. Bribery, or black mail.

The prior customer seemed pleased with this offering, and pointed Nyuuba in the direction of a small, tented stand not far off. "Yous go in there and you find out about the bird," He said, finally releasing his grip around the merchant and walking off to tend to his own business. Nyuuba did as suggested, not that you could always trust the kind of dirt that lingered about here.

Upon entering the tent he saw its interior was lined with items most would think of only as junk. The walls were coated with bland trinkets, cheap silk substitutes and certainly nothing eye catching. Either he had been scammed or it was a fair cover. There didn't seem to be anyone tending to the main room of the tent, although another secluded area existed further in, and the merchant chose to check it out.

In the seclusion existed a glimmering bunch of much more precious items than what'd been offered up front, a man standing in the lot of it with his back turned. Nyuuba's entrance caught his attention and he whipped around, almost dropping a tiny box that he clutched in his hands as he did so. The man seemed more than nervous, and then offended. He shouted some obscenity at the merchant, as if he was not intended to be back here -- then rushed him back into the section of the tent that had nothing of value in it.

"What do you want?" The paranoid man asked, the box still in his hands. Nyuuba glanced down at it, and the man's eyes followed, realizing only now that he still had the item out in the open. He quickly tucked it into the fold of his shirt, hiding the box which was clearly rather precious to him considering his secrecy over it. Nyuuba leaned forward over a counter which the man stood behind, serpentine eyes doing all of the talking.

"What? What? That? Thats nothing," The man said, in reference to the box. Nyuuba hadn't said a word yet the man seemed clearly threatened; he was a mess. "Whats in that box?" The merchant asked, he was overstaying his welcome. He knew better than to test the patients of the folk in these sorts of places, yet also felt he would be able to handle himself if any unwanted situations happened to break out.

"You best be getting on out of here if you don't start diverting your attention," The man threatened, a sharp whisper against Nyuuba's ear. His nervousness was replaced with a serious calm, disregarding the act he'd been upholding.

"Understood," Nyuuba responded, although his curiosity had reached its peak. He didn't want this store to lead to a dead end in his search. "But, have you heard of the nightingale?"

((Don't worry about it. I loved reading your post, and it was perfect! I'm impressed by your writing style. *sobs* I was having a hard time trying to come up with something until I remembered I don't have to work from Michito's point of view all the time, haha.

Oh yeah, just to let you know, I have no problems if you want to go back and add Nyuuba's actions, or whatever. You don't have to start from where I left off.))

"You luggard, what exactly do you think you're doing?" A tall man wearing a mask entered the tent and whacked the other man over the head. The box slipped out and landed on the floor as he fell. "Your fingers getting restless again, you kleptomaniac? Even if you did the buying, the only reason you can touch this is because you obey my commands." The tall man reached down and scooped the box up. "Now, as for you," he said, addressing Nyubba, "make yourself comfortable." He pointed his walking stick behind him at the round man from before as more people started filtering into the tent. "Your recommendation came through. Oh, and sorry for any misunderstandings from the idiot. I trust you'll stay quiet." Swirling a cloak too fine for a normal sort of person from these parts, the tall man brushed past with a smirk. His servant scrambled up before he was stepped on as a few lethal-looking mercenaries entered the tent.

Walking to the area in front of the seclusion, the tall man beckoned to the servant, who shuffled forward and placed his hands against the ground. There was a flash of blue light, and the grating of stone as a rectangular area of the floor disappeared. Stone steps moved into place, leading further underground. The tall man descended as his servant set up wards around the perimeter of the tent, making sure no person would be able to enter... or leave. The rabble of ill-disguised aristocrats, merchants, mercenaries, and whoever else followed the stairs down.

A pedestal stood at the middle of a low stage in the chamber. Oil lamps flickered as people walked past to the rows of chairs, whispering in the dark atmosphere. The tall man walked onto the stage, placing the box on the pedestal. Once everyone had settled into the seats, he turned around, his heavy cloak lifting slightly to reveal western clothing. He grinned at his audience.

"Gentlemen, welcome to another meeting of the *Nue. For tonight, we will have some entertainment, as I'm sure most of you have guessed." He placed a hand on the box. "This little music box holds a treasure that has never been seen by human eyes, and a song that will charm even the hardest of men. I present, a white nightingale." The latch opened, and a white, winged figure rose from the box to sit upon the pedestal as the box disappeared. The boy's eyes were blindfolded with a white cloth, and he struggled as though bound to the pedestal. The tall man untied the cloth, revealing ruby eyes that glowed in the lamplight. "Sing, little bird," the man whispered into his ear as a finger pressed into the back of the boy's neck.

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Michito could hear whisperings of people as he sat in his dark space. He still had no idea what was going on. Earlier, a man had come to dress him in a white kimono and blindfolded his eyes. He was almost relieved by the blindfold. The blindfold at least meant there was a reason he couldn't see anything.

Something clicked, like a latch, and he felt himself lifted and seated on something. Struggling, his wings flapped a little as he pulled against bonds he couldn't see. A man placed a hand on the back of his neck after taking off his blindfold, and prodded him with a finger. Vaguely, he heard, "Sing, little bird." A weird sensation traveled first to his vocal box, and then his body. An invisible weight seemed to rest on his body as he opened his mouth, unable to stop himself. Michito felt his vocal cords vibrating as his voice trilled and projected across the crowd in front of him, sweeping up and down a series of scales and arpeggios in numerous sequences. His eyes started watering in frustration. He had no control over his body or his actions, and this man was using him as a singing doll! It infuriated him that he wasn't able to fight back.

At that moment, the lamps flickered and went out.

((*Nue=Japanese chimaera with a monkey's head, tanuki's body, tiger's limbs, and a snake tail. Also means "man of mystery."))

((Aha;; I was worried I wouldn't be able to manage a post worthy of response to yours. But thank you~ likewise, I'd like to return the compliment towards your writing style. ))

The entrance of the new man allowed Nyuuba to make a little more sense of things - a little less. He had an air of richness to him, a manner which allowed him to ensure those around knew just who was in charge. The merchant's face turned to a grin as he recognized the plump man from before, knowing he hadn't been jibbed. It was hard to extend your trust in these situations, it was even harder to find a promise that ended up being just what you were looking for. Nyuuba was soon to find out, however, he'd found just that. Attempting to disregard the shifty movements around him he followed down the newly formed stairs - they'd been an interesting trick.

The merchant settled with the rest, gifting himself a seat nearer to the front of the stage, picking up what little he could of conversation. Eavesdropping was always something to get you somewhere, something to land you trouble if you were foolish. With some luck and some dismay the two to his right and left didn't speak a word: their full attention was given to the center-stage. Nyuuba chose to do the same, mumbled something of an unimpressive comment about the man in front of him who bore some resemblance to a pin cushion from the extent of his scars -- a little tongue-in-cheek humor meant to fall on deaf ears.

Nyuuba listened intently to the greeting with the rest, awaited more eagerly the grand finale to come they were being built up to. When the tiny box was opened, there wasn't a noise from the small gathered crowd. The creature that produced from it made all the sound, vocals flowing with chords that more than impressed, filled the room and the ears of all those in it. The merchant wasn't the only one captivated by the rare bird, in fact, it was unlikely there was a soul in the room that wasn't.

When the lanterns were pulled, there was some discomfort amongst the crowd. Certain items and characters that sat around provided a small glow, but nothing that replaced the sudden lack of lighting. There was rustling, a few voices heard under the song of the nightingale. The clattering was disruptive and led Nyuuba to believe either this wasn't ritual, or there were a few more than he who weren't familiar with this meeting and weren't reacting quite so calmly. The sound of a chair being tipped over a little further back was loud, indifferent to the notes the Avian sang. What a fuss.

The singing came to an abrupt stop as those who made up the room grew restless. The merchant began to question if something else hadn't started things, as lights going out shouldn't have forced a room of adults to turn into a group of imbeciles.

"The bird will be ours," A soft voiced man exclaimed, there was a lot more movement in the backdrop now. Weapons were being revealed in the darkness. Nyuuba picked up on things quickly, undoubtedly there was more than one group who'd come with intentions of doing a little more than just listening to the creature. Things were rapidly spiraling downward, returning members who'd came with innocent intentions were being pulled into the action. The merchant smirked, wondering how the man upfront intended to deal with this situation - if at all.

A brawl broke out to the side of him and Nyuuba glided back, easy movements from a less human racial background. Whoever had started this all had already began their endeavor, using everyone else as a fine distraction. The merchant found himself with two choices; get out before they were sealed in, or try to retrieve the albino boy himself. Although he had first come with different interests, his own idea in taking the nightingale off the market was overpowering.

Nyuuba had reached the area of the platform, where the western dressed man was being approached by the sketchy thieves that'd started things. The merchant reached into a pouch, threw a glitter-like sand across the area that forced an odd red glow, one that caused flashy, jerky movements like strobe lights to the eye. Already, he saw a handful of men loyal to the ring master of this event were at his side, fighting off the foes who came near. The light was dim, a sparkle enough to attract the attention of the others in the room - yet for one reason or another, it had not.

Nyuuba threw his traveling pack in front of him at an oncoming attack, holding it to defend himself. A tied together combination of gourd-shaped stone containers it proved itself very sturdy against the sword that threatened him. A couple tied on items fell as they were cut, Nyuuba paid it no mind. He claimed himself no fighter, yet would handle things to the best of the ability he did have. Pulling a jewel encrusted dagger from his belt he pushed back the man in front of him, unsure if it were an alley to the current owner of the nightingale or one of the men who wished to possess it.

"Get out of here fool!" The man the merchant was fighting spat, like it was Nyuuba who was intruding on him. It seemed as though the dust he'd thrown had complicated things for those around him, and it allowed the merchant to strike a blow on his new opponent. The man dipped back into the darkness to deal with the wound, Nyuuba trying to progress through more chaos to the man who had the nightingale. In the excitement of things he'd lost sight of him, only to glance him disappearing towards a hidden escape. It seemed he'd managed to avoid the eye of his other pursuers as well, and the merchant would have to do the same if he desired to follow.

It was much easier for Nyuuba to fall into the shadows and away from the fighting, to chase after the man who thought he was getting away. The sound of stone sliding creaked the entire of the room as the man with the music box slipped through it, Nyuuba barely able to follow as it sealed behind them both. He kept silent, the darkness still swallowed them in the hallway that followed and he would not be seen.

"That was a close one, little bird," The man commented to himself and the music box respectively, likely feeling he was in-the-safe now. The whisper of the merchant who'd followed him, however, was a little less than reassuring.

"I'm not here to make a trade," Nyuuba said, his breath on the man's ear putting his closeness into perspective. Or perhaps, it was the tip of his dagger pushing passed the extravagant cape and against the thin flesh of his upper back that'd managed that.

The man chuckled. "What, you want this bird?"

Nyuuba laughed back. He did want the bird, but first on his priority list may have just become taking out a man that played a seemingly large roll in the underground. Slowly the man set the music box down, opened it up once again to allow the creature more momentary freedom - or as much of it as he got. Not that giving his recently acquired pet to the merchant was at all his intentions.

There was a quick movement - a sharp pain, Nyuuba had been caught off guard. Air pressed from his lungs after the blow, the man had elbowed hard to the stomach. Not hard enough to keep him down; as the man lurched to reclaim the nightingale the merchant leapt after him.

((I'm relatively familiar with Japanese folk lore/terms; you don't need to worry about updating me~ ))