Angel Fire: The Series - Episode One COMPLETE

[griever_tantalus]

ANGEL FIRE
By Griever
Episode One: Of Men and Women

Three and One, One and Three
Bane of Nel, bonds set free
Twined in one, alone of two
Angel and Devil blood runs true
'Ware three lights, circling 'round
For when the angels' mate is found
Child of love and passion he
Death of Nel his purpose be
Demon descends from black sun sky
Sins of man, the end is nigh
For when the time of Earth is done
Born of angel is the DemonSon

- The Wyrd of Sourrante , last verse.

[] = Setting
{} = Sound effects
() = Description

[A black-haired young man stands atop a small hill, overlooking a thriving city, which spreads out before him like a carpet woven of two different fibers. In front of him, the weaver used rich cloth, and the West Side is full of light, and color, and -literally - magic. Comfortable houses with wide lawns being tended to by giggling faeries, and towards the horizon, New Downtown, with it's high glass towers already swirling with morning commuters and their flying vehicles.

Behind him, in stark contrast, the East Side squats like a toad in muddied water, wooden shacks leaning next to each other as if in weary mutual support. Uncollected trash lies on the street, or in somewhat neater piles that the poorest of the poor are forced to sift through.

But the boy's eyes lie not on the poverty behind nor the abundance before him. Instead he is looking at an old, venerable oak tree, and the initials carved therein.]

Boy: (reaching out his fingers to trace the first set of initials - "R.N.") ...

[The scene fades, and a new one comes into view. It is a campaign rally, in the open field within the campus of Sakura High School, banners waving from the rafters and posters being waved in the air. One name is emblazoned on all the paraphernalia, a name well-known to the students of Sakura High...]

[A bespectacled young man is speaking, one with the dignified bearing and smooth delivery of a practiced public-speaker...]

Young Man:... so without further ado, let me present to you our candidate for the Special Vice-Presidential elections. Topping the batch in academics, a member of more student organizations than I can count, kendo master and concert pianist - your friend and mine, (He swings an arm out wide) Reeeiji Nanizawa!

[The crowd goes wild, clapping and cheering enthusiastically as a brown-haired young man steps out onto the podium, waving with a practiced grace. He is above average in height, with the classical good looks that one would assume was a result of carefully selective breeding, high cheek bones and fine brows, with eyes that seemed to promise friendship to all whose gaze they met. He is wearing the school uniform, accented only by a chain around his neck holding a green teardrop gem, which catches the light enticingly as he begins his speech.]

Reiji Nanizawa: (voice filled with sincerity) Thank you... everyone. This... this is overwhelming for me. (he grins) You'd almost think I'd already won...

[The applause rises once more, as do chants of Reiji's name, and he pauses with a smile to let the noise die down before continuing.]

Reiji: (in a serious tone) Vice President Mizuno will be sorely missed, and while her transfer leaves a void in all our hearts, she also leaves behind rather large shoes to fill - and while I'd rather not wear heels *quite* as high as hers, (laughter from the audience) I promise you I will do my best to step in.

(He pauses dramatically and surveys the crowd.)

That is... if you'll let me?

[The crowd responds with a resounding raor of approval, and the chanting of his name drowns out anything else that Reiji might say. Not everyone is ecstatic though, and a small group of students stand a bit away from the crowd, glaring at Reiji, though their hands give him perfunctory applause.]

Boy: (in a growling whisper) Uppity bastard...

Boy 2: That slot should have gone to you Marori, not some wet-behind-the-ears junior.

[The boy referred to merely adjusts his glasses and smiles grimly.]

Marori: Just keep clapping boys... Good things come to those who wait. And I can wait a looong time if it means giving Golden Boy his due...

[Reiji has begun to answer questions from the audience. A voice is raised in question, though Reiji can't make out the source in the crowd.]

Female Voice: That's a lot of promises Mr. Nanizawa. Do you plan to keep all of them?

Reiji: Of course, of course I - well, I can't very well promise to keep my promises can I? But if you take a look at my track record as Batch Representatives, you'll see that I do keep my promises.

Voice: Oh? I can recall one of hand that you haven't kept.

Reiji: (taken aback) Ah.. which one would that be?

Voice: The one by the tree up by Watchtower Hill...

Reiji: (mouth open in shock) Wha-

Voice: "Friends Forever" remember?

Reiji: (squinting into the crowd) Who are you? (he whispers intensely, but is distracted by the announcer coming back onstage)

Announcer: Well that's all the time we have today... Let's hear it once more for *your* Vice President, Reiji Nanizawa!

[The crowd roars once more, but Reiji isn't listening, eyes showing his thoughts are far away from that place and time...]

* * *

[Scene returns to the boy at the old oak tree. His hands have left the first two initials now, and have moved down to the next name - "K.T.]

* * *

[Scene shifts to a tension filled gymnasium, packed to the overflowing with screaming fans. Above them a scoreboard levitates magically above the paraqueet floor, twirling and exhibiting the current score which stands at "Sadamoto High Warriors - 83; Sakura High Tigers - 81". The clock below it reads: "6 seconds". A team in red jerseys with white lining huddles together around a gruff, middle aged Caucasian man - their Coach - who is shouting to make himself heard above the din.]

Coach Wittgenstern: ... So they'll be expecting us to go for the win - but we can outwait the bastards can't we boys?

(He is disracted by the loud popping of gum. He whirls and glares at a tall, muscular young man with Asian-European features and long, flowing silver-white hair. The boy is busy licking the remains of a gum from his face, grinning all the while.)

Terrik! (furious but trying to keep his voice down) Spit that Bob thing out right now or I'll have your Bob head on a stick! Do you *want* us to get a technical?

Ken Terrick: (still grinning) Sorry 'bout that Coach. (He winks at the others as the Coach turns away and several suppress their laughter. The Coach addresses a serious looking blue haired boy, the shortest on the team, who doesn't appear to share in the general mirth.).

Coach: Ueda, you drop down quickly into the paint. We’ll have them think we’re passing it over to Terrick beyond the arc, but instead we’ll send it to you down below.

Enzo Ueda: (silently nods)

Ken: (slapping Enzo on the shoulder) Woohoo! Look who gets to be the star to-night!

Enzo: (winces at the slap, and gives Ken a pained, somewhat forced smile) I – I’ll try sempai…

{The bell sounds}

Coach: Alright boys – if the Warriors want to take our undefeated slate, let’s Bob show them they’ll have to go the distance. Tigers, roar!

All: ROAR!!!

[The team steps out onto the court, Goro Maekawa at center, Ken Terrick at power forward, Hideo Lukawa at Small forward, Yoji Sato at off guard and Enzo Ueda at point.]

Hideo: (The boy has a slightly worried expression on his pretty-boy features. He elbws Ken.) Hey, stop pressuring the 2nd year Captain, he's nervous enough as it is.

Ken: Aw, he'll be alright.. What's the worst that could happen?

Hideo: Uhm... we lose the biggest game of the season, he's hated forever by his schoolmates and his wonderful highschool days turn into a living hell?

Ken: (ruffling the black hair of the slightly shorter boy.) Always so negative! This is why you haven't gotten laid since Helena left you...

Hideo: ... ! ((blushes furiously - but before he can say anything the whistle sounds)

[The players take up their positions. Ken finds himself face to face with the star player of the Warriors, a burly Caucasian with a gold tooth named Samuel Hur]

Samuel: [hand-checking Ken] Your ass is mine Terrik...

Ken: (grins) My, my Sammy-boy. Didn't know you swung that way...

{Whistle sounds. The crowd shouts "Six!"}

[Ken pushes away as the ball comes into play. Enzo grabs it, then whips it over to Hideo.]

{The crowd shouts "Five!"}

[Hideo fakes a pass at Ken as Enzo darts inside. Ken is quickly double teamed.]

{The crowd shouts "Four!}

[Hideo tries to pass the ball over to an open Enzo, but one of the Warrior's deflects the ball away.]

{The crowd roars in excitement, though a few scattered cries of "three" are heard.)

[There is a mad scramble for the ball as Warriors and Tigers leap for it. Neck and neck, Ken and Samuel join the fray.]

{The crowd's noise swells to insane levels, a cacophany of sounds. The scoreboard reads "2 seconds"}

[Ken grabs the ball just beyond the three point line. Enzo, beneath the basket, throws up his hands.]

Enzo: Throw it!

[Instead, Ken takes one look at the basket, leaps up, and as Samuel jumps up in an attempted block, takes the shot. The scoreboard reads one second...

... And it changes to zero just as the ball swishes into the basket to the sound of the final bell. The board reflects the final score - "Sadamoto High Warriors - 83; Sakura High Tigers - 84".]

Ken: (arms raised) Oh yeah!!! Who's the Man?

[Half the crowd erupts into jubilation, streaming onto the court in joy as the rest watch in stunned disbelief. A group of Ken's teammates try to lift him onto their shoulders, but Ken laughingly fights them off and runs into a gaggle of screaming cheerleaders who surround him, planting kisses on his face.

No one pays much heed to Enzo as he stands alone under the basket.

As Ken plants a wet, noisy kiss on one of the girls, a female voice makes itself heard from the midst of the crowd]

Female voice: Nice shot, big boy.

Ken: (smiles down at the cheerleader with bleached hair haning onto his arm) Just doing my job Nanami-chan.

Nanami: (looks puzzled) Huh? What was that Ken-kun?

Voice: I guess with skills like that, it's hard to remember the last time you lost something.

Ken: (whips his head around, looking for the voice) Well, it *has* been awhile...

Voice: October 7, 2069. You lost something more than a game... remember? You lost a friend.Ken: (whispering) What the hell?!?

[Ken shakes himself free from the girls and surveys the celebrating crowd - but sees no one familiar. One of the fans is carrying a bottle of champagne, and Ken grabs it and drains it to the last drop, his eyes slightly wild, and far from joyful.]

* * *

[Scene returns to the boy at the old oak tree. His hands have left the second two initials, and have now moved down to the last name - "A.T.]

* * *

[Scene shifts to an arena, filled with unsavory looking characters, many of whom were visibly armed and ready for violence. Ironically however, most of the fighting was occurring amongst men who were *not* armed - namely two men grappling in the center of an elevated, caged ring. On the grimy floor beneath them was an icon - a clenched iron fist wrapped around a devil's tale. The words beneath the symbol proclaimed the place to be "Hell's Coliseum"

One of the grappling figures knocks the other across the ring and promptly mashes his opponent's head against a post. The winner is golden-haired and golden skinned, tall but lithe, stripped to the waist but wearing a featureless mask, save a pair of slanting eyeholes. A mustached man dressed like a ringmaster in a circus descended on a platform winched from the ceiling of the arena, and raised the victor's hand.

Ringmaster: And once again, ladies and gentlemen, I give you our winner, the greatest Gladiator in history, our champion , our still undefeated - Prodigal!

[Prodigal takes off his mask reveling cruelly handsome features. He smirks at the crowd and bows slightly, then turns swiftly on his heel and leaves, and is joined by a retinue of bodyguards. Looking straight ahead he sees a younger man, with a similar build, but with fierce red hair and pale skin. The red head's otherwise handsome face was marred by a stern expression and an ugly scar running down the
left side of his face. As the two pass each other sparks almost seem to fly. ]

Prodigal: (softly, as he passes the red head) Do your best today Akira-kun. I'm waiting for you at the top... when you feel up to it.

Akira Tenkawa: (not even bothering to look at the other) Don't speak to me like you know me.

[One of the guards of Prodigal places a rough hand on Akira's shoulder.]

Guard: (Growling) You will treat the Champion with respect or -

[Akira claps one hand over the guard's hand, trapping it on his shoulder. His other hand came up swiftly, impacted on the elbow of the guard's extended arm, and promptly broke the bone.]

Guard: Aaargh! (drops writhing to the floor)

Akira: (in the same monotone) Tell it to someone who cares.

[The other guards attempt to charge Akira but Prodigal raises a hand.]

Prodigal: Leave him. I wouldn't want him injured before his... match. I want him even more proud when he reaches *me* (laughs and walks away)

Ringmaster: (addressing the crowd with a magical megaphone shaped like a conch shell.) You all know something *special* must be cooking when the Prodigal doesn't come last in the lineup - and you'd be right! Tonight - (voice lowers to a whisper, but the magic still carries his voice to every ear) - we have that most coveted, most illegal of entertainments - (his voice rises to a shout) a Bared Blades Battle!

(crowd roars it approval)

Ringmaster: No mere flesh and bone can sate the violence of our fighters - each of them will be allowed to take into the Cage one mundane weapon... But that doesn't mean that's *all* they're getting...

[An entire plethora of weapons are lowered from the ceiling, some of them sparkling with their own inner light, and obviously enchanted. There are hoots and whistles of appreciation and calls for blood]

Ringmaster: (grins widely) That should liven things up a bit don't you think? And now - our glorious Gladiators!

(Turns to his left and throws his arm wide) Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our challenger, our newest rising star - the young hellion with the unbroken winning streak of 22 wins - the Crimson Slasher!

[Akira walks out calmly, bare-chested and clad in black karate pants, not acknowledging the applause, an expression of slight disdain on his face. He holds a sheathed katana at his side, its covering ratty, but its hilt - of a smooth, flawless, ivory material - was pristine.]

Ringmaster: (whirling his other arm out) And his opponent, a man who needs little introduction, his record marred only by one defeat in sixty-seven fights, our champion of the Gryphon Division - the raging, rampaging Minotaur!

[An enormous man steps into the cage, opposite Akira. His head easily tops seven feet, all hard muscle running slightly to fat at the midsection. The Minotaur is adorned with a horned helm above his bearded head, a leather vest - open at the front to reveal a torso rife with coarse brown hair - and torn denim pants atop combat boots. The most distinguishing characteristic of his face, aside from an oft-broken nose, was the solid gold ring dangling from it. He is carrying a large, wicked looking axe.]

Minotaur: (thumps his chest loudly and grins at the crowd) You're going to get some blood tonight!

[The crowd hoots loudly and stamp their feet. Ringmaster specks back on his platform.]

Ringmaster: (with mock solemnity) I'd tell you to fight fair but - why bother? Give it your all gentlemen. Give us - your blood!

[The Ringmaster's platform ascends and the Minotaur charges towards Akira while the crowd cheers. Akira stays rooted in place until Minotaur begins an overhand swing, and the redhead takes two quick steps back to evade the blade as it smashes into the ground. The Minotaur recovers quickly and slashes horizontally with the axe, but Akira leaps up, plants a foot on the flat of the axe, and pushes off it as he jumps once more, ramming his knee into the Minotaur's nose.

Minotaur growls and steps back as Akira drops lightly to his feet. Akira dances once more out of range of the axe. Instead of following though, Minotaur throws his axe at Akira.The redhead evades, but in the process Minotaur reaches him and slams a meaty fist into Akira, sending the redhead careening into the cage perimeter, rebounding off the mesh to land on the floor. Minotaur reaches up and grabs another weapon - an enchanted morning star that burned the air itself as it whirls in circles around Minotaur's head.]

Minotaur: You're fifty years too young to be challenging me boy.

[Minotaur swings the head downwards, but Akira rolls away. On his feet now Akira dodges blow after blow, slowly making his way to the center of the ring, where the weapons were suspended. Akira leaps upward - ]

Minotaur: Oh no you dont! (The morning star lashes out and knocks the nearest weapons off the chains.)

[But Akira ignores the weapons and reaches for the chains themselves. He grasps the chains, and begins to swing amongst them hiding amongst the forest of metal as the enraged Minotaur swings wildly at him.]

Minotaur: Coward! Come down and fight!

[Akira's voice sounds from within the chains]

Akira: As you wish.

[There is the sound of shearing metal, and suddenly all the chains and their weapons were tumbling down onto Minotaur. The champion warded off the weapons as best he could, receiving more than a few cuts and bruises in the process - only to look up and see Akira falling towards him, his bared katana in his hands.]

Akira: (while falling) "Spear of the Aesir!"

[There is a flash of shining steel, the sound of impact - and the next instant, Akira was genuflecting on the floor, behind Minotaur, his katana once more sheathed. Minotaur stands stock still for a moment, then slowly topples over, a large black bruise across his chest where the back of Akira's blade had smashed into his body.]

Akira: (glancing over his shoulder at his fallen foe) Moron.

[Akira faces forward and stalks away to the deafening cheers and applause of the crowd. From his VIP box the Prodigal smiles knowingly and claps politely.]

Prodigal: That's my boy...

[As the Ringmaster descends to announce the winner, Akira ducks into the tunnel that leads to the fighters locker rooms, and is met by a big man, around six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders and a barrel-like chest striking an imposing figure, marred only by a stunted left leg and a round, cheerful looking face. His hands are big and hairy and both clutch large sacks of money.]

Big Man: look at this haul! (chuckling) I knew you had it in you Akira-sama! Obviously these suckers wouldn't know a born scrapper if he bit off their legs - or, apparently, even if he spend a year beating his opponents into pulp right in front of them. Would you believe that the odds were 20 to 1 *against* you? Granted 'ol Minotaur was a...

Akira: (cutting him off) How much was my take Paws?

Paws: (pausing) Well we still have to give Sir Julius his 80% cut, but that'll still leave us with a good 150,000 NelDollars...

Akira: (looking thoughtful) ...

Paws: (cautiously) You know, that's a goodly amount. It's enough to pay the bills up to a month in advance. You don't need to accept that... other commission...

Akira: (turning his head sharply) Is the contact here?

Paws: (shaking his head) Akira-sama...

Akira: (narrowing his eyes) Paws...

Paws: (whispering) Do you think this is what she'd want?

[Akira growls and takes the bigger man by the collar and easily slammed him against the wall. Both bags fell from Paw's hands]

Akira: (biting off each word) Where. Is. The. Contact?

Paws: (looks at him sadly before looking away) At the bar. Woman with the silver hair.

Akira: (letting go of the big man) Take the money and go. I'll meet up with you a week from now at the usual place.

[He leaves before giving Paws a chance to reply, and makes his way back outside the portion of the Coliseum reserved for the Gladiators, and into the common area, where many of the patrons were unwinding after another evening of violence with their other favorite vice. Buxom young women scantily clad in 'devil' uniforms - complete with cute little bat-wings, pointed horns and twisting tail - were serving drinks and dancing on poles - or on clients - amidst liquor fumes and hard, pounding music. Akira threads his way through the mass of people and seats himself down next to a slim, silver haired woman. Her face, like that of many of the patrons, was covered by a mask - in her case made to look like a snow leopard.]

Akira: You the client?

Woman: (smiling, before answering in a smoky voice) Depends on what you're selling...

Akira: (eyes narrowing) I don't have time for games.

Woman: (letting out a tinkling laugh) No, you don't do you? Nor much patience either apparently. (Looking straight at him) And what if the job *requires* patience?

Akira: (shrugging) I'll get the job done. If you doubt my talents then you shouldn't have contacted me in the first place. (Makes as if to stand up)

Woman: (smiles) My, my... Such manners. I wonder what your mother would say?

[Akira stiffens, his fingers clenching into fists. He looks as if he wants to stand and leave but the woman merely smiled and swirled the drink in her hand]

Akira: (in a dangerous voice) Was that a threat? Is this how the 'Resistance' does business?

Woman: (raising an elegant eyebrow) But I thought you were leaving? Or have you... reconsidered?

Akira: (Stands stock still for a second, then slides back onto the bar stool, watching the woman from the corner of his eye) What do you need me to do?

Woman: Nothing too onerous - you're going to a party Mr. Tenkawa. (Reaches into her bag and hands Akira a capsule) The Mem-Pill has the details. This is an important operation sir Gladiator - and if you pull it off, I think I can predict that our 'patient' will be well on her way to recovery.

[Akira's eyes shine with a sudden brightness, but he quickly hides his excitement behind a bland expression. He pockets the pill.]

Akira: Fine. I'll contact you when its done.

[Akira stands and leaves the bar. The woman stands as well, but stays by her seat, her eyes following the red-head as he heads back into the crowd. A tall silver-haired man joins her, his face covered by a black fox mask]

Fox-mask: (watching Akira retreat)Well that was surprising... You're not going to do your usual?

Woman: 'Usual'?

Fox-mask: Say something to remind the target of the past... of that boy.

Woman: Not with this boy. (looking on as Akira vanishes into the crowd) He remembers alright... he relives it, everyday.

* * *

[Scene fades]

Voice: Onee-chan!

[Scene fades back in on the black-haired boy touching the tree. He turns to see a small bundle of energy barreling her way up the path: A little girl in a school uniform, with short cropped brown hair and a wide pink hair band.]

Girl: (ramming into him) “Miko-chan Tackle!â€

[Arkain]

Rar

Well, it isn't bad, although I still lament the lamentable demise of the un-lamentable prose format.

At the very least, this might make it easier for an artist if you ever find one!

[griever_tantalus]

Sorry about that

But yeah - I dont think I ever would have continued this in prose. And if any artist out there is interested now that the story is in script format? You know where to reach me ^_^ *crosses fingers*

[Arkain]

Continuing is certainly more important, although I was getting to the stage where I was desperate enough to bloody well write it for you just to see it move on!

[griever_tantalus]

Well I'm always open to a co-writer ^_^ Even with the faster pace... the more the merrier (and quicker) right?

[Sakraida82]

Co-writer?

[griever_tantalus]

? Im unsure whether you're asking what I mean by co-writer or what I meant when I say Im open to one