Don't Trust First Appearances (Ferociousalien and Frogger)

[Frogger]

A lone figure stands among the trees - just as quiet, if not more so. In traditional Japanese attire meant for a warrior, she is clad in black, as to blend in with the shadows better. The long sleeves give the impression of a delicacy that which is misleading, especially being that little silver flowers were sewn along the edges and up. Amaya’s fingertips traced over the hilt of her sword, taking comfort in its presence… though her heart is heavy, her eyes threatening to spill tears. If Sesshomaru saw her now, he would surely be disappointed. A laugh bubbling up at the thought, Amaya closed her eyes and bowed her head, pressing her other hand to her heart.

Why does it hurt still? Doesn’t time heal all wounds? Isn’t it supposed to get better?!

Fate is so cruel. First, it brings her here, to this time... to the Feudal Era, to save both their worlds. Of course she had to meet the love of her life, and yet… he was in love with somebody else -her ancestor, who she happens to be a reincarnation of. How many times… does he have to pick her before it sinks in? Amaya lifted her eyes to the slate grey sky up above, blinking rapidly as to prevent the tears from falling. It’s time she moves on. All of her friends are starting their lives new, to find happiness despite the grief and misery Naraku inflicted. Is it too much to ask that her heart mends-? Amaya sank to sit underneath a beautiful old oak, propping her sword up as to wrap her arms about it.

“I wish… I can find love again…” Amaya murmured, her eyes growing heavy.

Time didn’t heal her wounds. It only served to numb her from the pain, making it feel like… she’s encased in ice. A yawn threatening to break her jaw, Amaya let sleep claim her body and mind…

A soft pink glow befell her. A small whisper echoed in her ears before she slipped entirely unconscious… it was caring, reassuring, even. Mother? No. Impossible.

“You will love again.”

Of course unknown to her, Amaya was transported to another time… one farther into the future, though not so far it will be familiar. The Meiji Era is different, after all… one that changed many things.

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Hm? Amaya stirred after what felt like ten minutes, give or take, just to stretch her arms. Did she really fall asleep?

Every muscle aches. A hand rubbing at her sore neck, Amaya raised herself up off the ground. Why do the trees look taller? No, it’s not just the trees -something feels off. Amaya began to walk through the forest, a hand resting on her sword in case she needs to defend herself… however, it seems like she doesn’t need to just yet. Her dark blue eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her. A road-?!

In the Feudal Era, there are no roads, only paths made by the feet of the people who traveled that way. Amaya can’t believe it. Then again… the air doesn’t smell quite so clean and pure. It isn’t as toxic as that of the air from her time, set way in the future… but it is definitely different. Her eyes drank in the sight of homes off in the distance. None appear to be small and humble, instead… sturdier? It looks like she needs to investigate, regardless.

Amaya moves faster than the average human. In fact… she ran the distance in an hour, not four or five. It does test her endurance and stamina, not to mention makes her starving after the fact, but she needs to know where she is… or rather, when she is. Did the Shikon no Tama have something to do with this? Hiding her hands in her sleeves, Amaya looked around at the small town… unaware of the suspicious glances and the furtive whispering. Her long, obsidian black hair is up in a high ponytail, her skin a soft caramel. The Shikon no Tama decided to… change her, so she can better protect it in the years to come, so of course there are things about her that separate her from the human population. Luckily, a little bit of magic makes those easy to hide.

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Kyoto is very different from the world she left just a week ago. It is not rife with magic and demons, but… not so modern as the world she was born in. Indoor plumbing is an invention not yet thought of… which is a shame. Amaya misses long, hot showers… not to mention the convenience of shampoo. A soft, nearly inaudible sigh leaving her lips, Amaya cast her gaze about, noticing how there is no one out at this late hour. How strange. Does it have to do with this ‘Battosai’ person she keeps getting mistaken for-?

More than likely. Amaya let a hand rest on the hilt of her sword, knowing fully well what sort of message this defiant act may portray. Blue eyes as dark as the night refused to linger in any one place for too long, instead drinking in every little detail there is to be seen.

 

[Etherealintimacy]

Kenshin had heard of someone posing as him. He couldn't tell why someone would want to be thought of as bettosai the man slayer however they must be trouble. The rumors said that they too carry a sword however it was doubtful that it was simply for show. Kenshin decided that he should probably go to Kyoto since it has been a while since he's been there. It was a cursed place for him but he would hate for the name battosai to be stained more than he left it.

He traveled to the town from a nearby village, he was simply wandering around, looking for work and something to eat. Thankfully he found some good work and was able to eat this morning before traveling to Kyoto, he left the dojo quite sometime ago simply because he felt like going on a trip by himself and didn't want anyone else to come along since there was plenty of work around the dojo and if there was trouble he could handle himself just fine. After all he did also promise to bring them each something from Kyoto since he would be passing by as of now.

He traveled along the path to Kyoto, he was hoping it'd be similar to the fool that was acting like he was the battosai however this person wasn't making profit off of his old identity so it didn't seem like it was going to be so. However it would be interesting to see what their goal is, perhaps convince them that fighting and acting like the battosai isn't worth it. His most notable scar is a testament of that. He knew that a life of a warrior and an assassin was a lonely and depressing one.

Eventually he made it to Kyoto, it took him about 2 hours to arrive, by now the person was there for about 6 hours. He soon too wandered the streets, there were a few people every now and then however for the most part empty. He gripped the handle of his sword, getting a very bad vibe about this place, Kyoto was dangerous with plenty of people on the street but it felt like he should expect a great samurai,someone that would kill before one could blink. Like the battosai. Soon through his wandering be found himself walking far behind a figure in a similar position, wandering, looking and seemingly have their hand on something, a sword?

He sighed as he then attempted a friendly gesture by calling out " Hello, how are you? Are you the one they call the battosai?" Seeing how very much not friendly they seemed he gripped his sword tighter. He had the distinguishing scar, the cross shaped scar on his left cheek.

 

[Frogger]

Night had fallen long ago, navy blue stretching beyond the eye can see. Amaya did not let her guard down, though, regardless that there are few people about. Dark intentions have a tendency to make an appearance once the sun sets… and being she hardly knows this world, it is best she remains vigilant. It would be foolish not to be. A faint breeze wafted past, bringing forth all sorts of foul odors that she would prefer to have gone without. Amaya rolled her shoulders, unease sinking into the muscles.

Is there something threatening the people of this city? It seems as though… a blanket of dread overlays everything, and thus, corrupting the joy everyday life should bring. In fact… it is like a chill is in the air. Amaya lifted her nose, but of course… nothing is obviously amiss. A hand remaining on the hilt of her sword, Amaya played with the idea of having dinner. Upon arriving here, she pawned several coins she had in her possession from the Feudal Era, so luckily… funds are no longer an issue. Apparently they are very valuable… and she has several more she can sell later on.

An unfamiliar voice interrupted any thought of food, instead forcing her attention to divert elsewhere. Dark blue eyes looked back over a shoulder, studying the young man that had spoken. Long, orange hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and striking eyes that are neither blue or purple, but a beguiling combination of the two. A cross-shaped scar on his left cheek. Does she know him-? No. Never has she seen the man before. More than likely, he has mistaken her for someone else. Amaya halfway spun to face this stranger, though she could not fight against the instinct to square her shoulders… as though preparing to battle.

“Excuse me?” Amaya replied at long last, albeit quietly, thoughtfully. Her voice was slightly husky, in a smooth, alluring way that was unintentionally sultry. A small tilt of her head had midnight black hair swaying, pieces of it curling against a graceful cheek. “I am… good, thank you.” What was his other question? Oh, right. He was asking her if she was… the Battosai? Is that right? Who is that? Amaya has heard the name time and time again, but no one has been kind enough to supply her with any answers. Is the Battosai a dangerous criminal? No, wait. A citizen or two have called her the Battosai… though, she has no idea the reason why. Is the Battosai a good person, then-?

Impossible to say for sure. Lifting her chin up slightly, Amaya met the man’s eyes. “I have been called that, yes,” she decided to confess. Does it matter? Why is he asking? Who is he to ask? Amaya stole a glance off to her right, realizing belatedly that as of now, no one is out… when, just a few minutes ago, there were all of… three? Four people out and about? What happened?