Kirie looked thoughtful for a moment. "As long as it doesn't kill me," she finally replyed, talking about Hinote's mention of an experiment. "What is it about? Are you thinking of maybe using controlled gravity to help put momentum into downward strikes?"
To demonstrate, Kirie unsheathed her sword, grew it into a huge claymore, and executed the commonplace Helmet Splitter, an attack that was basically a jump with a chop on the way down.

Hinote shook his head in answer and said "No no, nothing as simple as that, besides we've seen how much the rest of us would deal with that kind of aide". A thoughtful look alit onto Hinote's face and he added "Though that possibility may warrent investigation". Looking at his still bloodied hand Hinote stood thoughful for a second before reaching into his robes and taking out a quill. Dipping the quill into the blood on his hand Hinote looked up an told Kirie "In a moment I will do it, I suggest bracing yourself against something, just so you don't fall from any mental shock that might occur.". Raising the quill upwards Hinote quickly scratched a rune across the inside of his hood. Glancing over to Kirie he nodded and advanced holding the quill up, his expression obviously seeking permission to come close to her person.

(OOC: Hinote scribes a rune on the inside of his hood and silently asks Kirie if he can do the same to her.)

Chi furrowerd her brow in thought. "I guess I'll have to wait to speak with him." Then looking sweetly up at Suzume she spoke again. "Well if you see him let him know I wish to speak with him. I'll be standing at the bow of the ship. Sajuro, I no longer wish you to slay Kurama Genkai, I think he'll be of more use alive. But I may have a new mission for you soon. So go ahead and eat, but stay on the ship." With that the little girl walked carelessly to the outside of the ship and skipped up the deck to sit on the bow.

Kurama walked amongst the hallways. He didn't know his destination, really. All he did was follow the sound of tinkering and clanging. The noise eventually led him to Takin. The old man was working on replacing the lead lining in a series of electric conduits when Kurama walked in.

Takin looked up from his work, his eyes magnified by the series of lenses that the inventor had placed upon his brow.

"Hey, kid. Looks like you got roughed up a bit."

Kurama rubbed his neck, slightly embarassed.

"Yeah, just had a run-in with some demons that were out for my blood. Nothing new."

"You better start being more careful, kid. You're too cocky for yer own damn good. One of these days, yer goin' to be a hair too slow, and then..."

Takin whacked a piston with his wrench to emphasize his point.

"Sure, old man. Anyway, how are we situated about dinner?"

Taking grabbed a rag and wiped his hands clean of grease.

"Well, I've made enough rice n' toppins to keep the Emporer's navy full and happy. The stuff is in the kitchen. You can help me carry it into the Dining Area."

Strolling the halls of the seemingly endless airship, Tayuumi ran into Kurama and Takin carrying their dinner from the kitchen to somewhere else.

With a smile she said, "Heh, I'll help you if I get first dibs on food."

Takin looked up at her. "How about you help now, or you won't get any food, young lady. When you actually cook the dern food, then ya get to decide who gets what when."

"Fine old man. Whatever floats your airship." She grabbed a pot and continued to speak," Sorry about the scratches. Nothing big though. Well except that one gash on the floor."

Takin dropped the large pot, luckily not breaking open on the ground. "You did WHAT to my baby?!"

"I left a few scratches. Nothing that bad though! Trust me. It was that one ass hole's fault anyways. Talking to me like that!"

Takin's left eye twitched crazily. "..................You.......did..........WHAT.... ......!"

Kurama collected up his pot and began to rush Tayuumi along. He whispered as he moved her. "Run, run, run, run, you're not running fast enough, run run run run run RUN!"

"WHAT! It's not like it was that bad!" she said while running along.

"Think of it like this. Putting even one scratch on his baby is like someone talking to you about your parent issues." Kurama looked back. "We're still in shot range. Move faster."

"What do you mean? What's an old coot like that going to do to me?!" she said rather loudly.

A sound similar to that made by the cylinders outside was heard down the hall, and several small holes appeared in the wall above their heads.

"That answer your question?"

"Oh shit!" she yelled. Her feet picked up speed and she was almost dragging Kurama. "Why the hell didn't you tell me he could do that!"

"I'm the person normally running into fights. When I tell you to run, maybe there's a damn good reason!"

As they turned a corner, Tayuumi's open sheathed blade scratched the side of the wall. It made a loud screeching sound that could be heard throughout the ship. "Oh fuck..."

Kurama's brow furrowed as a pain was felt behind his eyes. "For the love of all that's good and holy, please tell me that sound wasn't what I think it was."

"Yeah, it was..." she said while trying to adjust her sword with her open hand to not scratch another thing. While doing this the sword made another loud scratch.

"What is with you! You know what, I think there's a wall over there you missed! Why don't you go back and scratch that!" Another bullet hole in the wall.

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose! He is shooting holes in the wall! I'm trying to stop from scarring it!" Her grip on the food slipped and fell the pot fell. The floor had a big dent with rice covering it.

"DAMMIT!" Takin yelled. Still firing bullets around the couple.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Fuck!" Tayuumi yelled...

((Summary: Tayuumi pisses Takin off and continues to do so on accident. Chase scene with much cussing.))

Kirie looked about herself. "No rocks on the ground to break my head against. I'm as ready as I can get." She stood rather stiffly and closed her eyes, ready for whatever was going to happen.

Kazunori realized that Iori wasn't going to listen. That he would just go on with this stupid honor nonsense. So Kazu did the only thing he could think of at the time. He stumbled over to Koyuki and made idle chitchat.

"Sheems these two gonna be fighting for aile." He said to Koyuki, not even caring how she is reacting. "Whos you shink ill wins?" He asked her, stumbling over the words just like he stumbled over to her. He also now had a bottle in his hand. Well actually two, but he was only drinking from one. He was actually offering the other to Koyuki, since it looked like they would be there a while.

Koyuki made no notice of Kazunori for quite some time. The drunkard was not only uncouth, but he reeked of someone with an obsession with sake and other sundry liquors. This smell was virtually overwhelming to Koyuki's remarkably sensitive nose, and proximity with the man almost made her want to gag.

Despite all of this, Koyuki stayed at attention, eyes intently fixed on Iori and Raikotsu's duel. The general had many years of conditioning to ignore such petty stimuli such as Kazunori, but the very presence of the mortal man made her feel ill.

When the man offered her a drink, she almost decided to refuse, and smash the bottle underfoot, however... If any time Koyuki was in need of a stout drink, it was now.

"Hrmph. Very well." she muttered, grasping the bottle with her left hand, but still not taking her eyes off of the duel. "But if this is some crude attempt to poison me, I wish it known that you will fail, and subsequently lose your life."

With this statement, Koyuki rose the bottle to her lips, ingesting a mouthful of the vitrolic, foul-tasting brew. The moment the concoction came in contact with her tounge, she spit the entire thing onto the ground, and tossed the bottle to the ground aswell, shattering it.

"Bah! I am suprised this does not murder you merely from drinking it. You annoy me, leave." Koyuki growls, shooing Kazuroni away with her left claw before she got bored and used it on his face.

((No point in fighting him, so this is Koyuki's attempt at friendly comraderie with a drunken mortal whose very presence makes her feel ill.))

Kirakiri simply stood there, one hand on the hilt of his katana as the pair of younger monks rushed him. It seemed they believed him the least threatening of the three. He smiled wolfishly to himself. The greatest power of a shapechanger was deception.

The pair began to launch an attack at their unmoving foe and almost died on the spot. Kirakiri's blade leapt from its sheath, swinging effortlessly in a horizontal arc. Kirakiri wielded the blade as if it was weightless, looking as if it could easily cleave through both monks with barely slowing. The monk closest to the blow pulled his attack and ducked beneath the deadly slash, transfering his forwards momentum into a roll. The other launched himself into the air with a mighty bound, the half moon curve of razored steel passing harmlessly beneath him. Less experienced did not mean inexperienced.

The first of the monks rolled behind Kirakiri and came to his feet, already lunging forwards inside the reach of Kirakiri's blade. Kirakiri simply didn't bother to check his blow and let it carry him around, kicking off the ground as he spun on the spot. He sailed away from both his foes in a graceful high leap, turning to face them fully as he landed again.

The two were coordinated together again already, attacking him in with a combination of a high roundhouse kick and a low sweep at Kirakiri's legs much like the manvevoure the other monks had opened up with against Taken. Kirakiri decided one was the lesser of the two evils and leapt, pushing out his free arm to partially brace against the kick to help soften the impact and letting the kick send him flying to the side, skidding on the ground as he regained his stance.

Kirakiri gasped - a kick to the ribs was never something good and his arm felt numb from absorbing some of the shock. The monks split up and approached again, planning to flank him. Kirakiri didn't intend to give them a chance by charging the younger monk.

He had to credit them for keeping their wits about them - the one he charged stopped so the other could try to move around. Commited to a charge, he couldn't easily pull out without leaving himself open. He continued anyway, blade slicing down in a heavy blow.

The other monk moved in to hamper his strike by sweeping with a low kick at Kirkairi's legs. Kirkairi was forced to make an awkward dodge to the side, not quite stopping the monk from catching an ankle and the other monk dodged just barely to the side.

Not flinching as the katana passed within an inch of his flesh, the monk twisted to the side and knocked Kirakiri further off balance with a heavy blow to the back.

Kirakiri fell to the ground and the older monk kicked his sword hand, sending the katana skittering out of his already weakened grip.

Though temporarily disarmed, Kirakiri was far from defeated. With an agility rivalling the monk's own, his legs suddenly scissored around and knocked the monk's other leg out from under him. One hand moved to his wakizashi, preparing to draw it.

Grabbing onto Kirakiri's sword arm, the monk swiftly lunged forwards with his free hand jabbing Kirakiri in a pressure point to cause intense pain. He recieved the surprise of his life when Kirakiri, seemingly unaffected, jerked his arm free and slashed the monk's throat with the short blade of his wakizashi.

A spurt of blood and it was over for one of the monks. Kirakiri rose to his feet with a sense of inevitability to his movements, deflecting the remaining monk's open handed strike chop with one arm. The monk backed off as Kirakiri made quick, sharp jabs at him with the short sword, forcing him to keep his distance.

Kirakiri and the monk circled for a moment and then Kirakiri flung his blade at him with a smooth overhand throw. The monk was surprised at his enemy throwing away his only weapon but it didn't prevent him sidestepping the flying sword. That step to the side almost saw him stumble on the body of his former companion.

Expecting the thrown blade to be a distraction, the monk was again surprised to find that Kirakiri was striding towards him without any real haste, as if taking advantage of the monk's momentary preoccupation was unimportant. He was unarmed but seemed quite comfortable in facing down a monk trained in the martial arts.

The wolfish grin was still playing across Kirakiri's face. Kirakiri believed in using every weapon at his disposal and what better weapon could there be than an enemy's own doubt? An enemy who does not believe they can win is already defeated.

With a cry of defiance, the monk leapt forwards again and launched into a flying kick. Kirakiri simply leapt to the side, headed in the direction of his lost katana. The monk arched his body and with an incredible display of agility arched his body to twist around in midair to land in a position where he could immediately propel himself at Kirakiri again.

The monk charged him again, feet pounding the ground as he lashed out with a fist. Kirakiri rolled with the attack, allowing himself to fall backwards as he put his knee up, using the monk's own momentum to help send him flying past.

The monk recovered nigh instantly, twisting to face Kirakiri again and recieved a sword to the gut. Kirakiri had snatched his fallen katana up as he had rolled and come to his feet with it at the ready. He pulled it out and sliced again, finishing the monk off.

Out of the original six, only one monk still stood. He faced off against Sakiko, chanting sutras and holding his prayer beads up defensively.

His companion had died mere seconds into the battle. Charging at the demoness, he had fallen to her greatest power. As he had run at her, markings on the side of her face had turned a strange silvery gray and there was the feeling of some unknown power being gathered. He had seen those golden eyes turn their gaze upon him and in them he had seen his own death. There was no malevolence in them, instead a strange serenity. The monk had exhaled a last breath and then simply died, collapsing in mid-stride with an odd grace.

The other monk had cried at in shock as Sakiko had taken the monk's life away. Then she had turned her gaze upon him.

Seeing his death written in those eyes the monk wrapped his prayer beads around one hand and averted his gaze, chanting sutras to help protect him from her power. He could still feel the demand for his life and threw a prayer strip inscribed with charms against demons at Sakiko.

Their battle had played out past the others into a psuedo-stalemate. The monk, unable to deal very effectively with Sakiko's powers had been forced to try and keep his distance, his attacks only having very limited success. Sakiko for her part couldn't get near enough to the monk to bring her powers to full bear on him. She walked towards him, her footsteps leaving their trail of life and death and he danced out of reach, circling around her. But with Kirakiri and Taken having dealt with their opponents, the stalemate wouldn't last much longer.

Reaching his hand outwards Hinote scratched the same rune, or one at least that seemed remarkably like it, onto the collar of Kirie's Kimono. The effect was instaneous.

It was like a mental jolt of electricity that ran through both of their minds. It was both invigorating, horrifying, and an unprecedented feeling that each of them were now exeperiencing. Their minds were linked. It was as simple as thought, Hinote could feel, hear, and even knew the outermost, of Kirie's thoughts, as she could him, to an extent. Even this was unprecedented to Hinote, he had of course done this before, but always with a contingent, in an army, which were almost always comprised of males. The feeling of a female mind, was different, extremely different and alien, as probably his was to her.

Kirie, can you hear me? Hinote let the thought slip past the numerous gaurds and wards he had around his mind to enter into Kirie's, he never left himself open, and the rune would do more then it seemed to at first.