Sworded Tales

Our unique muse pulls inspiration from equally singular perception.  Never dismiss your own viewpoint as anything less than the source of information it represents.  No one perceives the world as you do, and never grant anyone the power to disregard what hearkens to your senses.

Below are five different perceptions of the same scene.  Who is to say which is the most poignant?

Sisters of the Blade

Dakota

I saw the rage burning in Sue’s eyes long before tonight.  All of us had suffered with the Puño investigation, and the weeks of pursuit had added grueling hours onto already frayed nerves.  I had asked a few of the sisters to commiserate with Sue as well, probing for the problem I could smell boiling under the surface.  No true resolution was reached, but I had hoped the therapy would soften the edges of her anger.

Now this.  I tried to reach Puño before her, but she was always one of the quickest in our tactical simulations.

“Finally, you dirty fuck,” Sue said, slapping her steel against the skin of his neck, “On your knees.”

I didn’t think I could intercede fast enough.  Her blade wouldn’t get through my stony hide, but she was too close.  She knew as much and had chosen her stance accordingly.  That’s one of the risks inherent with intensive training.  You learned everyone’s tricks.

I hoped we could still talk this through.  Almost as though I had sent the mental suggestion to her, Lorraine stepped up.

“Sue, listen, please,” Lorraine said to her, cool as a cucumber, “We’ll see this done right.  We will.  But th–”

“No,” Sue said, slamming that gate closed, “I swear to Christ, Lorraine, if you say something about not shedding any more blood, I will flay every vein in this pig wide…fucking…open.”

Ouch.  I was no empath, but I could feel Lorraine’s sting from here.  Sue had that raw edge about her.  That go-ahead-mother-fucker facet to her warrior way which helped to make her the force she was.  Still.  There was a time and place, and this was neither.

“This horror show does not deserve another instant in the spotlight,” Sue said, “He deserves to disappear nameless and faceless in the gutter.”

I started to step in on reflex as two of my family began to quarrel.  Sue’s reflexes were singing, and she wheeled on me as soon as I started to move.  The blade bit into Puño’s neck further, and I froze in my tracks, face and fists tightening.

“Don’t do this,” I said, mother voice fully engaged, “We work too hard to be seen as heroes instead of vigilantes.  Will you decide for all of us?”

“Do you need to see the pictures again?!” Sue said, her tone knifing into me.

I had seen Sue mad before, but this was different.  There was something else behind her eyes.  Horror?  Fear?  Diablo Puño had struck a chord, and I was beginning to worry we might lose Sue altogether.

Echo shimmered beside me, and the stones screamed in vibrating agony.  Gods, I thought we were going to lose it all there for a moment.

“Woah, woah, easy, Sue,” Echo said, waving off any misunderstanding, “Sorry about that.  Nothing doin’ here.  That was just some normal flux.”

My heart started beating again.

“This dirt ball definitely needs justice heaped on him, but you’ve got to respect the process.  We take them in because it’s the right thing to do.  What about your honor?” Echo asked.

That’s it, keep stalling, keep her listening.  The more time we gave her, the more her anger would dissipate.  Adrenalin was more of a killer than anyone gave credit.

Sue seemed to give it some thought.  That’s it girl, puzzle it out.  Then she turned to seek Fate’s counsel.

“I’ll not intervene,” Fate said, “The choice at the crossroads is your own, as are the consequences.”

Dammit, Fate!  Could you not fudge the play of the cards one time to save a life?  I tensed to make my move in the ensuing silence, when the scales tipped in our favor.

“Fuck,” Sue said, her voice relaxing, “Alright–”

She played me like a fiddle.  She knew I was going to risk it, and she knew easing her threat level would make me hesitate.  Diablo Puño paid for it dearly.

A single stroke of her blade would change things forever.

Lorraine

My mind spiraled with the thrill of victory.  This twisted soul will do no more harm!  I have trouble believing that the nightmare is over.  How can anyone commit such atrocities to a fellow being?  Criminal psychologists will no doubt follow Diablo Puño’s case with grim wonder.

Fortified by my will, my sisters in battle encircled the criminal, preparing to take him into custody.  Sue was the first to reach him, and sh–but, wait!  She placed her katana across his neck.  No!

“Finally, you dirty fuck,” Sue’s voice knifed into the culprit, “On your knees.”

Oh my god she wasn’t going to, she couldn’t!  My mind raced trying to understand what was going on.  The battle was clearly over, but she still reeked of bloodlust.  As my feet touched down on the street, I knew that I had to intercede.  Too much blood had been wasted in this hunt already.

“Sue, listen, please,” I said to her, imploring, “We’ll see this done right.  We will.  But th–”

“No,” she interrupted with her venom, “I swear to Christ, Lorraine, if you say something about not shedding any more blood, I will flay every vein in this pig wide… fucking… open.”

Her aim, another of her gifts, was almost perfect.  I stepped back as though slapped.  This was not the Samurai Sue I knew.  The warrior I had shed sweat with and mended flesh for.  An infection burned in her eyes and her voice, and I wasn’t sure it was something I could mend.

“This horror show does not deserve another instant in the spotlight,” Sue said, “He deserves to disappear nameless and faceless in the gutter.”

I turned to beseech Dakota’s intervention, and the considerate vanguard was already stepping in.  My heart swelled that our subtle connection was still intact, keeping us in the same rhythms of sisterhood.  Whatever hurts had been inflicted were washed away, and I was further shielded by whatever disease had infected our comrade.  Sue brought Dakota up short though with a warning hand and by taking a nip out of Diablo Puño’s neck.

“Don’t do this,” Dakota said, unwilling to relent, “We work too hard to be seen as heroes instead of vigilantes.  Will you decide for all of us?”

“Do you need to see the pictures again?!” Sue shot back.

I hadn’t looked at the photos.  The raw anguish and the emotional fervor that surrounded anyone that came close to them left me reeling on my feet.  I knew enough, could even hear the residual screams, to leave the details to those on the front lines.  I focused on keeping my sisters of sound mind and body.  Now I had missed something.

A flicker of movement brought my attention back into focus.

“Woah, woah, easy, Sue,” Echo said, trying to mollify the tautly strung samurai, “Sorry about that.  Nothing doin’ here.  That was just some normal flux.  This dirt ball definitely needs justice heaped on him, but you’ve got to respect the process.  We take them in because it’s the right thing to do.  What about your honor?”

Yes!  The process!  And your honor! My heart continued to swell with the efforts on Diablo Puño’s behalf.  Sue paused in her threatening posture, a good sign.  Turning her attention, she sought council from our visionary.

“I’ll not intervene,” Fate said with her usual indifference, “The choice at the crossroads is your own, as are the consequences.”

I stared at the seer in the silent moments that followed.  Her presence was such an anomaly, the ebb and flow of her emotions so difficult to read.  I had been studying multi-phase dimensional states to help Echo with her plight, and I think Fate has s–

“Fuck,” Sue said, derailing my reverie, “Alright–”

Tension drained from the air, but something wasn’t right.  Sue’s hatred spiked like I had never seen it.  I started to move, but oh god, no, oh god, too slow!

Echo

Seven weeks until we caught Diablo Puño.  We find that almost unbearable to believe when we know what happened in the interim.  So many girls coming to such grisly ends.  If our own daughter had crossed paths with the Diablo, we’d be fighting Sue for the murdering honors.

“Finally, you dirty fuck,” Sue said to him with a grimace, “On your knees.”

Sue had her blade at the Diablo’s neck, but we wondered how much good it would do.  We had all pummeled him down this deserted street.  Smashed into him with our best, and he was still in one piece.  Tough bastard.

The rest of the team settled into position around Sue.  Clearly this was going to end tonight, but we weren’t sure how it would play out.  Diablo Puño didn’t stink of the Nexus.  So our concern was mild.  We weren’t sure the legal system could handle someone as powerful as the Diablo and were about to say as much when Lorraine took the lead.

“Sue, listen, please,” Lorraine said to our resident samurai, “We’ll see this done right.  We will.  But th–”

“No,” Sue cut her off with a slice of words, “I swear to Christ, Lorraine, if you say something about not shedding any more blood, I will flay every vein in this pig wide…fucking…open.”

Such a mouth on her.  We’ve run damage control with the press on more than one occasion because of it, but we’d want no one else covering our flank.  Our sympathies were strong too, considering those poor, tortured kids.

“This horror show does not deserve another instant in the spotlight,” Sue said, “He deserves to disappear nameless and faceless in the gutter.”

We saw Dakota start to make her move on our right, but so did Sue.  The warrior waved her off and bought a little more time as her blade bit into the Diablo’s neck, blood trickling down in several rivulets.  An opportunity presented, but we chose to wait.  We’ve been on the receiving end of Sue’s wrath before, and this was still playing out.

“Don’t do this,” Dakota said, her stony voice still serving to protect, “We work too hard to be seen as heroes instead of vigilantes.  Will you decide for all of us?”

“Do you need to see the pictures again?!” Sue shot back.

Mention of the crime scene photos gave us pause.  Our gaze found a nearby crater in the street where we had stomped a shockwave.  The ragged hole was evocative enough to make us swallow hard and blur our vision with tears.  Without realizing, our form shimmered as well.

Sue instantly dropped into attack stance, and we threw up our hands to explain.

“Woah, woah, easy, Sue,” we said, trying to calm her down, “Sorry about that.  Nothing doin’ here.  That was just some normal flux.”

We had her attention now and needed to diffuse some of her heat.  A thought came to us, and we acted on the inspiration.

“This dirt ball definitely needs justice heaped on him, but you’ve got to respect the process.  We take them in because it’s the right thing to do.  What about your honor?” we asked.

That gave her pause.  We hoped that appealing to her honor, something she prided most, would reach her when compassion or duty wouldn’t.  Sue turned to measure Fate.

“I’ll not intervene,” the mysterious seer said, “The choice at the crossroads is your own, as are the consequences.”

A short eternity passed before Sue made her decision.

“Fuck,” she said, relaxing her posture, “Alright–”

We smiled as she cursed and could feel the stress levels begin to drop an instant before Sue snapped off a savage attack, severing the Diablo’s head from his shoulders in a single slash of blood.

Fate

The sea of strands caressed me.  A susurrus of promises taunted at futures untold and eternal.  My fingers tightened on the golden thread which bound me to this place, to this destroyer of flesh and virginity.  The Weave was comforting in this now.  A familiar hum of allies, of sister stars and appropriate design.

“Fate Ender, the surcease of your interference is nigh,” the Crux uttered in her warrior cadence, “Kneel and be judged.”

The four foci of shared light glimmered in response.  Points of the compass aligned by the lassos of the Fate Ender’s choices.  Shining knots braided together lead off into the aether.  Two paths emerged from this conjuncture.  One to be followed.  One severed.

“Hearken to our call, sister,” the flesh weaver sang, intent on manipulation, “The choosing will be true.  I swear it.  But th–”

“Silence!” the Crux dissipated the ruse, “By the forgotten prophet, Sister Loralai, contrive again for the sanctity of the Ender’s soul, and you risk inciting the very path of Fate you…would see…avoided.”

A pulse along the Weave coalesced around me, summoning.  A convergence of the Nexus was approaching.  My now sight drifted to the Echo of Souls, but they were unaware of the convergence.

“The Ender’s depravity must remain hidden,” the Crux said, edging closer to her choice, “His abomination must vanish, forgotten.”

I dispersed the potency which pulled at me.  Alternate courses absorbed into the Weave, and a pulse of warning directed at the Echo of Souls.

The Earthbound rocked forward as the golden energy ricocheted across the strands knotting her to the now.  The Crux halted her with a gesture, standing at the precipice of choice.

“Reflect,” the Earthbound said, extending a hand, “Our battle path is chosen for us.  Would you lead us all astray?”

“The Ender’s horrors do not haunt you?!” the Crux roared in frustration.

My warning pulse hammered into the Echo of Souls.  Countless voices screamed out from the void.  One of them would sense the convergence.

“Serenity, sister,” the Echo of Souls said, regaining her composure, “The strain of the hunt weighs on us all, and time grows thin.  The Ender’s fate is sealed, hail truth.  Allow the authority to work.  Would you risk disgrace by walking hand in hand with him?”

The choice made, the Crux’s shared gaze conveyed her will.

“Once made, never undone,” I replied.

My spirit left the now, racing along the golden strands of the Weave toward the next place of choosing.

Samurai Sue

“Finally, you dirty fuck,” I said to him through gritted teeth, “On your knees.”  Not like I was giving him much choice with my katana already licking his jugular.

We’d been hunting this piece of dog shit who called himself Diablo Puño for weeks.  I was still waking almost every night sweaty enough to leave an ass crack stain on the sheets.  I’m a warrior by trade, specialist with a blade, and have seen my fair share of gore.  What this sick fuck did to his victims though was haunting me.  Haunting me.  ME.  Samurai mother-fuckin’ Sue.

It ends tonight.

“Sue, listen, please,” Lorraine said from my six, about six meters away, “We’ll see this done right.  We will.  But th–”

“No,” I sheared off her words, “I swear to Christ, Lorraine, if you say something about not shedding any more blood, I will flay every vein in this pig wide…fucking…open.”

Sweet girl, sharp too.  She didn’t try to close the distance between us at all.  If anyone embodied the heart of our little crew, it was Lorraine, but this was not a night for empathy.  No, this was about justice, pure and simple.

“This horror show does not deserve another instant in the spotlight,” I said, “He deserves to disappear nameless and faceless in the gutter.”

I caught sight of Dakota inching forward at my nine and waggled a no-no finger at her with my off hand.  My bionic arm flexed slightly and the katana bit into Diablo Puño’s flesh, eliciting a hiss from him.  That noise more than my finger froze Dakota in her tracks.

“Don’t do this,” Dakota said with a sincerity that belied her ferocious frame, “We work too hard to be seen as heroes instead of vigilantes.  Will you decide for all of us?”

“Do you need to see the pictures again?!” I fired back at her.  Several of the images of gaping holes cascaded unbidden through my mind.

Diablo Puño translated as Devil Fist.  He liked to call himself DP for short and signed his work as such.  I was very much looking forward to hacking his goddamn hands off.

Echo flickered at my twelve, her image blurring for an instant.  I reflexively dropped into gedan-no-kamae but kept the blade nibbling at the Diablo’s neck.  Echo held her hands out in an easy does it gesture.

“Woah, woah, easy, Sue,” Echo said, shaking her head and hands, “Sorry about that.  Nothing doin’ here.  That was just some normal flux.”  She gave it a heartbeat, but then pitched in her two cents.  “This dirt ball definitely needs justice heaped on him, but you’ve got to respect the process.  We take them in because it’s the right thing to do.  What about your honor?”

Echo was a solid sister, but she did tend to prattle on.  She thought she struck a chord about honor, but honor sometimes demanded a blood sacrifice.  I turned a questioning gaze toward Fate, the last sister present, standing at my three with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I’ll not intervene,” Fate said with cool precision, “The choice at the crossroads is your own, as are the consequences.”

A tenuous silence reigned for several long moments before I exhaled one word.

“Fuck,” I said, my stance relaxing, “Alright–”

As I started my relinquishing speech, I could feel the tension release from Diablo Puño’s muscular frame.  That’s when I dragged my katana through his neck, when his defenses dipped for an instant.  I will always relish those two distinct meaty thunks hitting the macadam.  Always.