Fouled Fox

[RenaRoo121]

Her eyes opened to a blur of shadows and small balls of light. They whirled about her head and she, for a moment, wondered if she was stuck yet again within a black hole. It, oddly enough was incredibly possible considering her run of luck.

Ninjara was no stranger to the world of the bizarre but as she grabbed the sides of her head and began to accept the reality swirling around her, she could not help but feel that this was not quite like anything else she had seen before.

It was not the world itself because as she sad up and settled into her armor and bearings and looked around it reminded her very much of her home in Japan. It was a sort of platformed arena surrounded by torii and beautiful decorated lanterns. It was like a very formal version of the dueling area on the hidden island of the Kitsune.

Finding her footing, Ninjara shakily came to stand and shook her head. She felt so limber and empty, like she hadn't ate in days.

No, it wasn't the area that seemed different to her, it was how the world around her made her feel.

Ninjara was completely unfilled, a hole consumed the entirety of her chest and stomach. It made her feel as though she was transparent, nonexistent. It made her feel almost sick as she came to accept it.

It was no longer a question of where she was or where the others were.

"Who am I?" she asked.

Suddenly, the fox's ears flickered to the side and she turned around toward the noise of dragging feet and mouth breathing. It wasn't threatening, it was simply amusing to watch the drunk man, his face covered in a mask, oriental robes draping his body.

"You are a beautiful woman," the man said before snorting thickly, as though something had been caught his throat.

Ninjara raised her brows. "You are a very drunk, man," she responded as he fell face first in front of her. She threw back her head and laughed. "A very drunk man who needs to saddle himself on a chair. "

The thief had not paid attention enough to the man and soon found his arms wrapped her hips.

Her lips curled over her fangs and the kitsune kicked the man off. "Unhand me, foul creature!" she roared only for the man to produce a blade from his robes.

"I will put my hands where I wish for them to be!" he shouted.

Ninjara narrowed her eyes and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. In one quick movement the sword was unsheathed, sliced through the man's wrist, and sheathed again.

"Your hand now belongs to me," she responded scathingly.

[lost frequencies]

It took him awhile to realise what had just happened. Then the numbing sensation spread throughout his body as he saw his severed hand in a pool of blood on the floor.

He screamed, both out of anger and horror, before lunging sword-first towards the kitsune.

"You whore!"

[RenaRoo121]

She looked dully at him, her fingers tapping on the sheath of her sword. What little amusement this passing time with the man had brought her was inexplicably gone and all that was left was deep rooted disgust and annoyance.

She leered at his charge and did not move until he was but a breath away. She spun out of his direct charge and stopped just behind him, pulling her sword in sheath out of her belt and using it to stop the man, catching his neck on the hold of the blade.

Ninjara snarled as she pulled the man back, holding him against her chest so that she could lean her face toward his, placing her mouth close to his ear.

"I am no whore, baka. Not for you or any other man. I am Ninjara, the warrior kitsune from Kyoto, the fifth greatest thief in all of Asia, and the female that will take your life from you in a moment's thought without a second thought," she said lowly.

With that, she removed the blade and sheath from his neck and kicked him down to the ground.

[lost frequencies]

The other patrons, dressed in their traditional garbs watched on as though it was some kind of entertainment as the kitsune shoved the man to the ground with a mere kick.

He was too drunk to fight, let alone defend himself. So he succumbed to the fact that he was losing a lot of blood and had passed out even before his head hit the floor.

They looked at the female warrior, fearfully, and dared not to whisper or utter a single word about her.

Then finally the guards came in to inspect the premise.

"What's going on here?" one of them asked, before catching sight of an unconscious, masked man on the floor with his severed hand not far from where he lay.

[RenaRoo121]

She took a breath, staring coldly still at the man huddled on the floor before her. Her eyes then darted about, taking in the fact that she had become some sort of entertainment for a group of people she did not know and, by the looks of it, would not very much care for.

Ninjara scowled. How did she always end up in these situations?

Looking to the guard, Ninjara assessed the situation. He was someone that was well equipped in gear and weapons. It was then that she determined that perhaps fighting him would not be a smart idea.

"I was assaulted by this man. I defended my honor," she said snappishly before looking to the people. "And I found that there was not a single helpful hand to be found. It's good to know that no matter what world I enter I am still seen as furry entertainment."

[lost frequencies]

The guard looked at the rogue kitsune with a slight smirk, his eyes scanning her suspiciously.

"Are you a contender?"

The bar was quiet suddenly, as though they were anticipating to find out.

[RenaRoo121]

She could not help but snort at the question. It faintly reminded her of a time where, with friends, she watched some terrible television show by the same name. American forms of entertainment were, to say the least, melodramatic and unamusing for the wry fox. If anything she would have preferred to have seen one of Splinter's soap operas before watching it again.

"I am not a contender," Ninjara responded. "I am Ninjara. If you must know any title outside of this name you can ask the man drooling on the floor whenever he should wake."

[lost frequencies]

The watching crowd murmured as the guard just stared at her with an impassive expression on his face.

"Take her to the dungeon," he said, but not to his men who were still standing on his sides.

Unbeknownst to Ninjara, there were two ethereal entities that were about to seize her from behind and grabbing her by the arms. They were none other than the Daimyo's supernatural guardians summoned by the one who was wearing the amulet--in his heart.

These entities were dark and faceless, once hired as assassins by Drako and Ve to kill the Daimyo but had now been paid to protect him and his samurai soldiers.

"I'll make sure you find a new title," said the guard. "As soon as we throw you into the dungeon!"

[RenaRoo121]

Ninjara scowled at the mockery she was being made but knew better than to resist. There were many of these men and simply by the way they posed themselves she knew she was no threat.

As submissively as she could force herself to be, she lowered her head, her eyes leering at the speaking guard, before she allowed herself to be led away.