Akio's day started out fairly normally.
As the resident representative of adult sexuality in his magically built world, Akio Ohtori had the unique privilege of never, ever having to be bored. Today was a good case in point; after rising, refreshed from his night's sleep, he had showered, dressed, and gone to breakfast - landing no fewer than three undergraduate students and one student council membe along the wayr. By lunchtime, he had added another from both categories to the list of conquests.
The challenge, of course, was always convincing Utena to join him, but he was already at work on that; he'd already gotten her to blush over lunch, and that in itself was a major accomplishment. Smooth and sure of himself, Akio headed back to his tower after the midday meal, concentrating on things a million miles away rather than close up - and so, never saw it coming.
Anthy paused in her act of pouring the afternoon tea; she could have sworn she'd heard her brother on the stairs - yet, there was no one there now. Akio was nothing if not good at entrances, so when it became apparent that he was not going to appear, Anthy put down her tea set and went to look for him.
Hm. How strange; he wasn't there.
...Akio was no longer anywhere.
Ah, well, she thought to herself, and resumed pouring tea with a shrug. Whatever mystery it was would be sort itself out soon enough.
Nakago looked out on his kingdom in the morning light, his hair catching and keeping the golden rays of the sun. To the east - the hated east - he could see smoke rising from the camps of his enemies.
It was almost over.
Wishes had been made, gods had been called; madness spread, plague sewn - innocence taken, pain dealt, but it still was not enough. It would never be enough; driven by his own impulses and desires, Nakago surveyed his country. Despising the weakness of his underlings in a vague sort of way, he analyzed his enemies with all the precision of a watch maker, missing no detail that might enable him to do what he willed.
Plots like chess strategies formed in his mind, perfectly angled, all potential pitfalls worked out even before orders to fulfill those plans passed his lips. Silent and still, he regarded the betraying smoke from his nemesis' campfire like a dark and beautiful god, sure of his success because he could not be any other way. Finally nodding, he turned toward the tunnel that opened to the lower halls, walking with that unique step only born leaders seem to have.
He disappeared the moment he moved through the doorway. Abruptly unsheathed and abandoned, his sword clattered to the palace stones and lay still.
Treize Kushrenada had a love for beautiful things. He found them heady, exciting; and to see passion in those things and people he found beautiful was simply more intoxicating than anything else on earth.
Or in space. Why be limiting?
He stood in the window of his observation room, hidden from sight by the one-way glass, and watched Zechs Marquise move through a smooth and uninterruptable training routine. Random soldiers had provided him with various props, enabling the powerful moves he made to contact with something other than empty air. Zechs moved with a cool passion; a kind of coldness and expertise that made him both frightening and exhilirating to watch. He moved fluidly, easily, and was obviously was without equal in that setting. Really, the only person - other than Treize - who could beat Millardo in hand-to-hand combat was Wufei; and the only person who could beat WUFEI... was Treize.
Ruling the world was nice; but it was even better knowing you deserved the position.
Smiling pleasantly and quite full of himself, Treize put down his highball and turned to go; there was a speech to be made that evening, one regarding the danger from the colonies and the activities of the gundams thus far.
He took three steps down the hallway and simply disappeared. The security cameras trained on the area seemed to waver for a moment, filling their screens with static and revealing no secrets. It had been done so quickly and so quietly that it was half an hour before anyone knew he was gone.
"Lord Treize?" asked Une, but he was nowhere to be found. Remaining calm, Une paged him from her terminal; but after fifteen minutes, it was obvious there was going to be no response. Panicked, Une began to search.
The compound went on red alert half an hour later.
Fuuma and Seishirou leaned against the structure of Sunshine 60, sharing a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone and regarding the throngs of humanity before them.
Not one member of said throng knew just how close death was lurking.
Seishirou adjusted his sunglasses and handed the cone back to Fuuma. "Hold this for me, would you?" he said genteely, pulling up the sleeves of his coat just a bit and starting to chant. His goal was to stain this particular kekkai with blood so Fuuma could destroy it, pushing fate that much closer to the edge of the world - and all before those pathetic dragons of heaven even knew where they were going to strike.
It really was terribly easy.
"Sure," Fuuma said amiably. He enjoyed death and destruction as much - or more, really - than the next person. Much more, actually, but why quibble?
Seishirou picked a random target, called on power from the Sakura Tree, pulled back his fist to strike...
And then suddenly, everything went black. Released, the ice cream cone fell to the ground and splattered.
The Setting
Seishirou was the first to awaken.
Perhaps it had something to do with his innate magical abilities, or perhaps it was because he used an outside - and therefore less affected - power source. Whatever the reason, he opened his eyes before anyone else to see a very odd person with very odd pink hair hovering directly over his face.
He gasped. "You!" said he, sitting straight up and regretting it immediately after. Holding his head, the Sakurazukamori - heir to a family of assassins that had existed since before Christ and the unmatched master in the world of yin-yang magic - cursed like a sailor and lay back down again.
"Ooh, you wanna be careful there, honey," the pink-headed lady said brightly, an almost motherly smile stealing across her face. "You just had one hell of a trip, and here you are awake and I don't have the subjects for the experiment ready yet! Oh, ho! Ha ha! Hee...." The pink-haired wonder grinned like the devil herself, leaning into his face.
"Subjects?" Seishirou asked blearily, sliding back a little. From the corner of his eye, he could see several other men in this room; he noted vaguely that they all seemed to be more than moderately attractive and about his age - and also completely unfamiliar. Aside from Fuuma, that was.
"Subjects!" Pink-lady repeated cheerfully, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "Now, you won't tell them you saw me, will you, Sei-chan? That might be... confusing."
Seishirou snorted, propping himself up on his elbows. "I doubt they'd know who you were. There aren't many left who study the old gods' ways like I do."
She waggled her eyebrows lasciviously. "That's their problem, not YOURS, isn't it, honey?"
Seishirou sighed. "I won't tell," he said calmly, feeling his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. "But I won't participate, either - in... whatever this is."
"Oh, saa... be a spoil sport." The woman pouted. Then she suddenly smiled "Seiiiiiii-chan...." she sing-songed. "You. Are. So. CUTE!" she exclaimed, and abruptly leapt into his lap.
Seishirou jumped, but did not dare push her off - not even, God forbid, when she started to snuggle his chest like a teddy bear.
"Oooh, I've wanted to do that for a SUCH a long time! Glomping! GLOOOOMPing!!" she shrilled brightly, her tone light and cheerful and her expression positively blithe -
All except for her eyes.
Seishirou shuddered. Those were the eyes of a child who captured bugs just to see how much they could be played with before they died.
"Well, the others are waking up now," she added, standing once more and brushing herself off. "See you on the other side, Sei-chan!" She blew him a kiss; then with a flash and a cackle, she was gone.
Seishirou sighed and rolled his shoulder, working the kinks out. To his left, another prisoner woke up.
Treize blinked at the squared, tiled room. ALL of it was tiled in grayish-blue; floor, ceiling, and walls. The light source was untraceable; any exit or entry was thoroughly concealed.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Treize asked suavely, trying to stand. To his credit, he neither shook nor blubbered; in fact, his eyebrows slightly raised, he looked almost... bored.
Seishirou smiled inwardly. Well, well, goddess... what HAD you gathered here?
In the corner, Nakago stirred. With the trained reflexes innate to a life-time soldier, he leapt to his feet and drew his swo...
He took one moment to register its loss, then another to swear mutiltation and death upon whomever had done such a thing; then he looked around. He didn't know where he was, and he had no idea who these people were... but he was GOING to come out of this the victor... whatever this was. He crossed his arms.
"I am Nakago of the holy army of Seiryu. Why have you brought me here?" Nakago exuded pure force - emotional, mental, physical, and magical. It was obvious very few people would ever dare to gainsay him.
Unforutnately for him, those people gathered in this room happened to all fit squarely into that category.
"We were hardly the ones to do that," Akio said smoothly, climbing to his feet and leaning against the wall. He'd been dropped rather roughly, for some reason or other, and was having trouble regaining his balance. "I rather suspect we are all prisoners here. Are we not?"
No one volunteered anything different.
"Fuck," said Fuuma congenially, standing shakily against the opposite wall.
"I'd rather not just now, thanks," said Akio, still holding his head and looking around. For heaven's sake, no one ELSE seemed to be this beaten up...
Fuuma glared. "Who asked you?" he demanded, and Seishirou raised an eyebrow. He'd never seen the /kamui/ of earth behave in any way other than suave, and found this rather odd.
As if reading Seishirou's thoughts, Fuuma straightened and adopted his usual cool expression. "May I ask just what, exactly, it is that you want from us?"
Before anyone had the chance to answer, one of the walls rumbled. Four tiles, stacked vertically, shifted inward, and suddenly there was a door. And standing IN the door...
Akio blinked. "Arisugawa-san?"
Juri glared impassively. "Good. You're all awake. It's time to receive your orders."
"Orders?" repeated Nakago, sounding highly affronted and looking as though he'd much rather be doing something else - whipping people, or something. He liked whipping people. A lot.
Seishirou restrained a smile and stepped further back into the shadows. Whatever you have in mind, Washu-sama, he thought caustically, I won't play along - but I WILL watch.
Behind the monitor in another room, Washu sighed; well, one party-pooper could be expected in every crowd. At least Sei-chan could be counted on for some extra feedback.
Washu smiled as she watched Juri Arisugawa - who was definitely the only female in ANY plane of existence who could withstand the raw sexual power in that room - hand a packet of papers to each man. Juri had been an excellent choice.
Even if she HAD been a bit rough when delivering Akio.
Washu steepled her fingers and waited for the gentlemen to read, eager and ready to put forth the first subject for observation. The Experiment had begun.