[Ghouligan]

A lot can happen in a day. Even more in three.

When Antoine agreed to this meeting, he didn’t only think it’d be the next time he saw ‘G’ but that it’d be the last. He arrived in Japan in search of his brother but found himself entangled in the lives of strangers. Most notably Bernard and all the shenanigans that entailed. With his resources and newfound inspiration — some of which were prompted by this upcoming meeting and recent coordination amongst criminals — he planted the seeds of an underground network.

Whether or not it’d flourish would depend on factors beyond his control. But he’d do his best to tend the soil. The project wasn’t to satiate his ego. It was the opposite; an admission that he needed help. Japan was too large and too corrupt a country.

They still had ground to tread, but there were new avenues to explore. ‘G’ was paranoid. Justifiably so. And while he’d still keep them at an arm’s length, their perspective on the meeting was something he looked forward to.

Now it was a matter of them showing up.

---

Jackie Maradona

[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ A quiet wind swept passed. Atop the building of their previous encounter — a time one "Mr. Yamamoto" dangled along the ledge of Ghouligan's wrath — a quiet hum of the night fell upon attentive ears, distinctly so from the low buzz of electricity running through the metropolis and, more specifically, the building at which their rendezvous was set. The roof was a hard tile, a single, monochrome gray across the entirety of what existed between the ledge and the protruding shape holding the staircase near the center. Lights flashed against the ledge from down below, and luminescent shapes rained from the higher skyscrapers above; neon shades of blues, pinks, and yellows folded atop one another, shimmering down wherever their light so desired to fall. The blues from above especially rose over the rooftop, cooling its surface in the deeper hues. A light tap came from one of the ledges, and from it sprung a different light. Somewhere between the warm lights from below and the chilled shade from above came a sickly green; neither or, it came to life from a cloaked figure, accompanying with it the crossed eyes and crooked smile Ghouligan was surely more than familiar with. "Shou know," came the voice, a quiet sigh of a sound, "I didn't take shou as one for punctua'ity." Sat atop the ledge in a squat, her cloak hanging from her figure and obscuring it from sight, Grinta — or "Miss G," as she had adopted the alias — looked over towards the opposite vigilante with the tilt of her head. "A' much as I don't take shou for one capable of 'handling them accordingly.' I presume shou under'tand who it i' I 'ave in mind, shes?" "But fir't, befo'e we get to anything about that–" she pulled a hand from her cloak, scratching the side of her head through her hood– "Shou ca'e to talk about that body count from the other day?" She hung her arms forward beneath the cloak. "'ow true is the 'tory they tell on the news, Ghoul? I don't ca'e to take it from them, and I'm offe'ing shou the chance to say the truth befo'e I get to see it for my'elf. I ask that, for shour sake, shou speak with truth." ✉ tag -- Ghouligan ✎ 374 words ※ Speak of the day's truth this night.

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Ghouligan]

Miss G was quick with the banter and even quicker with the interrogation. Moments after her arrival, their meeting was put to a halt. Instead, she inquired about the news story circulating. Ghouligan had been caught on camera — it was blurry, but enough to spread his image online. Adding the victims’ testimony served to amplify its validity. And even if there was no evidence to leverage, even if the testimonies were all false, and even if Miss G wasn’t an ally, he would have spoken the truth.

Not his truth, but the truth. Regardless of justification, the fact of the matter was that Ghouligan did kill those criminals. What he found particularly odd was Miss G’s interest. After their first encounter, she should know about his methodology. Maybe this didn’t ‘make the cut,’ but more people would have died had he fought to pacify.

“It’s true,” Ghouligan said. “I killed them.”

Ghouligan didn’t appear human. He didn’t have skin, and he didn’t have a face, but underneath it all? He was. Grinta may not have known that. Make no mistake, she knows he’s human. But she would not know if his form, permanent or otherwise, altered his psyche, too.

And it didn’t.

Which made his uncaring, matter-of-fact tone as he spoke about their deaths all the more revealing.

---

Jackie Maradona

[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ She paused. As his piece came, settling tonelessly upon her ears, she offered him that same quirked stare of hers, that silent look tilted 45 degrees to the side. That smile, unchanging, and eyes forever crossed, over whatever thoughts may have been hidden beneath it, she held her stare. Even her lurched posture, arms dangling over the ledge from which she squatted, hardly shifted or swayed. "I didn't mean the people shou killed, pelotu'o." Her stare broke, and her posture eased. She hopped over the ledge onto the rooftop's flat, rising up from her crouch and into a proper, tilted stance, her weight resting on her right side as she met the man's equally masked gaze. "I mean the people shou ri'ked to kill tho'e people. Tho'e people shou got 'urt — the people shou got killed, not the ones shou intended to." She approached him, swaying slightly as she walked with a clear force in her step. She even aimed to be within arm's reach, lifting a hand out from her cloak and pointing at his chin, twisting her arm with its knuckles towards him as she did. "Shou jumped on some random robbe'y while they we'e fucking doing it, while they we'e actively wielding weapons at a civi'ian popula'ion. What good i' shour self-righteousness if shou drag more people — good people — into shour power fantasy, eh? What good does shour killing do, 'owever shou ju'tify it, if it con'tantly drags more people into the firing range?" "Same goe' for Yamamoto, too." She'd pull her hand back into her cloak, breathing a deep sigh. "No thank' to shou, by the way. Shou know much ground shou 'ave to give if shou want anything from a guy who' already been 'tared down by death? I 'ad to barter with a man who 'ad already mentally filed for 'is end; do shou think that' ea'y?" ✉ tag -- Ghouligan ✎ 312 words ※ Angry Emoticon

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Ghouligan]

“I killed those people, too,”

Ghouligan could make excuses for himself all he wanted. The first of which would have been time. One of the downsides of being a vigilante was keeping tabs on your personal life. While Bernard was aware of his secret identity and the adventures he went off on in the wee hours of the night, Antoine was only given so much leeway. There was a level of professionalism expected of him. A bare minimum. And the bar was already pretty low — Bernard covered for him more than he should have for reasons he didn’t understand.

The second of which would have been circumstance. Those people wouldn’t have died if he had his pool stick and cue balls. The victory would have been quick and decisive. But his poor aim — the result of using a stanchion and shards of ice — allowed the criminals to leverage their hostages.

Between time and circumstance, he did as best he could. But none of which addressed the underlying difference in their positions, the fundamental epistemic difference in their approach to vigilantism. For Antoine, the innocent were allowed to die.

Sometimes.

“I’m not a hero. I prioritize killing the irredeemable, even if a few civilians die along the way — even if I could have saved them with a different decision.” It wasn’t self-righteousness. He was burdened with doing what others could not, or more accurately would not, do. Antoine stained his soul so others could keep theirs unsullied.

“When word spreads, they won’t try it again. Because threatening the innocent doesn’t work.” Antoine let G get as close as she wanted. “Not on me.”

---

Jackie Maradona

[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ God, she wanted to strangle him. Regardless of her ability, and regardless of the consequences, the thought crept along her spine, crawling up her spinal cord, clawing at her stem, and holding itself firmly in the back of her mind. It clung to her, refusing to cease or ease, as she bit down on her lip. "'pare me shour 'oly mission for blood, Ghoul." She stepped away, twisting with a dip as she did, before raising herself back to her regular height. Her balance shifted as she leaned away, turning on her heel and, as she tilted, turned to continue facing the opposite, bloodthirsty vigilante. "Shou ever 'eard of timing?" Where her eyes would have been, Grinta pinched at her screen mask. "Shou wanted them dead over what? Money? Come on, Ghoul; shou don't 'trike me as 'tupid enough to value money above shour crusade. Shou would 'ave certainly found it easier to catch them after the 'eist, when their guard wa' down and lives weren't 'tacked up a' collateral, shes?" She halted her switching feet, and she balanced her figure. She had, again, made their gap a few meters away from the other. "Why so quick to 'tain shour ledger?" She breathed deeply. "I couldn't imagine being so frivolous with a body count. If I didn't know any better, Ghoul, I'd figu'e shou wanted to 'pill as much blood as possible. I' that shour aim?" "Certainly don't look any wiser than it is." A voice, higher in pitch and just as grating as it had been in their previous encounter, spoke from behind the vigilante. In her twisting and pacing, Pundit, the little creature with its wideset grin, laughed. "Same as that Ronin guy, ain't it? Ya think cutting some fat's gonna make the world so much safer, so much better, but it keeps going on the way it does. Actually, nah, that ain't even right; ya make it worse, right? Ya cross the line and invite yer enemies to go even further beyond that if they wanna survive, right?" Grinta kept her mouth shut. "Yer one crazy bastard, ain't ya?" ✉ tag -- Ghouligan ✎ 352 words ※ One Crazy Bastard

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Ghouligan]

“I offered mercy,” Ghouligan said. “I gave them a chance to walk away, but they chose their ambition over their lives.”

Ghouligan ignored the alternatives. It was one thing to contest ideologies — it was an act of understanding. But if he were to explain the external circumstances, the lack of time, and the lack of opportunity once the moment had passed, then he would have been seeking approval. The truth of the matter was that he could have done nothing and all that would have been taken was money. If you look to take a material analysis of the world, then all the money wasn’t worth the lives taken and injured that day.

Antoine did find the second argument compelling. He wasn’t moved by it, because he didn’t understand it. But it addressed something abstract and intangible that was more in line with how he viewed the world, the way it was, and the way it could be.

“I don’t want to spill blood, but I don’t mind it.” When he killed, he felt nothing. He saw it as something that needed to be done. Whether he was stomping the seeds of what was to come or the last remnants of a dying flower taking its last breath. “The world is the way it is. And I am the way I am. I don’t know if I can change it or myself. Not in any way that really matters.”

“I do what I do because I’m one of the few people who can.” He said. “If the heroes aren’t around to take care of a problem, I’ll do it in the only way I know how. I’m not capable of envisioning a ‘better place.’ Or even capable of thinking if such a thing even exists.”

He takes a breath. If you can consider what he does breathing.

“I leave that to those who can create. I think a system should exist but I only exist to destroy. At my best, I’ll burn down the world. But I’m not gonna act like I know what to do with the ashes.”

---

Jackie Maradona

[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ Grinta held silent for a moment, tapping a finger against the bottom of her mask; a quiet tap... tap... tap, even after Ghouligan finished. She couldn't put words as to why, or even if it was right for her to do so, but beneath that screen of hers, she cracked a crooked smile. Her eyes, if they had been visible, wouldn't have said the same, but they still couldn't deny the twisting of her lips. And with it, she laughed. She and Pundit both laughed, with hers as a faint chittering and the creature's an uproarious croaking. Grinta placed her hand fully over where her mouth should have been. "Shit," she breathed airily, "shou a'e a fucking lu'atic." While Pundit continued to laugh, paying itself no mind to the conversation anymore, Miss G. composed herself and her posture, placing one hand on her hips while the other held her temple. "Shou come out of the womb with a ga' mask on or something? Wa' shour fir't toy a gun? Come on, we'e shou that kid got bu'ted for selling drugs at school?" She sneered. "I should've thought shou a shanqui* if I didn't know any better." Her hand fell loose to her side now, hidden beneath her cloak, while her more casual posture exposed her other half. "Shou're insane. Actually insane, I mean. Not as some joke, and not as hyperbole; shou're a proper freak. And not just because of all that." She nodded toward his mutated form. "But 'till better than a coward, I suppo'e; I don't figu'e one would decla'e themselves to pulling out weeds and not following through, right?" Shifting back towards the ledge, she hopped back up, taking a seat on the side as she placed her hands at her sides. She teetered to either side slightly, swaying just an inch as she crossed one leg over the other. "For all of that talk about piling bodies and 'laughtering the depraved regardless of the innocents, I'd say shou're missing one; a particular swordsman, shes?" She tilted her head back. "Granted, for the time being, it's still speculation; as is the case for the rest of shour invites, I 'aven't made any concrete case." "But," she lifted a hand with a raised index, "Ronin jumps out to me a' the mo't contentious. Shou 'eard it too, shes? That 'tory of his — it doesn't add up to me." ✉ tag -- Ghouligan ✎ 400 words ※ *Yanqui: Spaniard and Argentina word U.S. citizens

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Ghouligan]

She laughed. They laughed.

It was admittedly unexpected. Antoine would have thought himself on the receiving end of some grandiose, moral judgment. It’s what he was most familiar with. Instead, Miss G accepted his lunacy — not that he would call it that — and offered him a challenge. But not before throwing a few insults his way. Like calling him an American. He’s never even held a gun. Then again, what were his pool balls if not oversized bullets?

“My first toy was a pumpkin.” The implication was a stuffed animal in the shape of a pumpkin, but considering how he was perceived as a ‘freak,’ he wouldn’t be surprised if G took it literally. “What about Ronin?”

Antoine had his own concerns. However, it had less to do with the validity of their identity and more with a potential broken promise. Antoine thought himself of taking anyone. If he couldn’t, he accepted the death that came with it. His only trepidation was making a promise to protect those in the room after inviting someone he might not be able to defeat.

The swordsman.

“Yeah, it felt off.” Antoine didn’t want to color their perspective. But the truth of the matter was his position as a foreigner hindered him. There were too many gaps in his knowledge that gave enough reasonable doubt to any inconsistencies in someone else’s narrative. What is and what isn’t common knowledge? “But I don’t know enough of what’s happening in Japan to pick it apart.”

---

Jackie Maradona

[Jackie Maradona]

[attr="class","susurrus"]

[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ Grinta offered a quiet nod. How was it that Ghouligan even kept to this role of executioner? Before, he had known enough about Yamamoto to catch him when his guard was at its lowest — too low, as she had expected, and thus led to a quick washing of the room in red. He had the intention of leaving a scene in his wake; surely, there was no other reason for that style of brutality. It was one thing to make a bad man, a man guilty of destroying others at the behest of his wealthy patrons, disappear into nothingness, and it was another to display his insides over the walls and carpet. She was lucky to have negotiated down to only the other lives being taken that night. "I don't get 'ow shour whole 'lord of death' gimmick works in shour mind–" she waved a dismissive hand– "but I'll summa'ize a' much of the pictu'e a' I know so shou get the gi't." With her hands balancing on either side of her, Grinta lifted herself from her sitting posture, moving up into a crouch before, eventually, rising along the ledge to her full height. She balanced a few steps to her left, carefully placing one foot after the other as a neon sign showed behind her, casting her teetering shadow as she made her way along. "That day of crime: Babel. A' far a' I under'tand it, the organization that caused it i' run by two admins. Shour pro'ably familiar with the fir't — that Ishtar, shes? 'er debut wa' quite the show, I've 'eard. A' for the other... well, 'e's not a' important for our purposes." She kept walking, even holding her arms out from her cloak for a bit more balance. "Thi' organization, the Pantheon, used Babel to disrupt the flow of everything. It wa' a message to say, 'Villainy 'as never been stronger.' It's quieted down for now, and I don't know what 'appened to Ishtar herself since then, but I don't imagine Pantheon's work to be done ju't shet." "But," she continued, "for our situation, we 'ave Sho to deal with." She did a slight turn on her heel, twisting herself backward and continuing in the same direction. "'e knows about the ENKI sy'tem, for 'tarters; it's a sy'tem made for and run by the Pantheon, and it's exclusive to invites from members within it. Mo't of the time, shou shouldn't even know the name unless approached about it — like I said I did." "It's 'trange, though. When 'e offered up the phone, 'e mentioned it not 'aving a password, meaning that, if the story i' true, 'e tried the phone and opened it befo'e. 'e didn't say anything about the control ring's functionality in the scheme, though. If 'e got it from a few of the villains that day, 'e would 'ave been close enough for the ring to allow 'im access, a' I sugge'ted towards 'im befo'e. But then, 'ow would 'e know that the ring was necessary? It's not a' though they advertise themselves to be linked unless shou know what shou're looking for. At the very lea't, 'e knows more than 'e wanted to say until I put 'im on the 'pot." "I currently 'ave three running theories." She lifted both of her hands forward, raising her index, middle, and ring finger on each as she counted them up — even if, by doing so with both, it added up to a total of six. "In the fir't scena'io, 'e knows it becau'e 'e's a member of the Pantheon. In the second, 'e was approached — like I was — but cho'e to decline the offer. And in the third... 'e's simply ju't one supremely lucky ba'tard to 'ave figured it all out, and I don't tru't odds like that." ✉ tag -- Ghouligan ✎ 634 words ※ Theory Crafting to the Wall

[attr="class","ache"]

MADE BY MIZO

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[Ghouligan]

A woman of thought wouldn’t understand. The intelligent are cursed to think everything through — they weigh risk versus reward and make the ‘best’ decisions. Ghouligan understands a few things, but he’s not privy to the same machinations of the world. Even in his native tongue, there are concepts beyond him. Although, it’d be more accurate to say there are things he cares not for. He’s a man of belief, as deluded as they may be, and follows them with unwavering fidelity.

Yamamoto was a series of circumstances. Antoine happened to be in Japan. He happened to catch wind of him. And he happened to find him at his most vulnerable. Antoine had done enough research to understand who they were and why they needed to be taken care of. Once that decision had been made, he was on the hunt. You make some moments. Others offer themselves to you.

He took what he could get.

“Sho was playing dumb — hiding something — then when you questioned his competence, he proved he wasn’t. At the cost of his story.” It tracked. Too well. Everyone has reasons for lying. At some point, they’d all keep something from one another. But as a first impression, Ghouligan wasn’t exactly ecstatic at the prospect.

“If it was up to me, I’d confront him directly.” Being part of a team meant giving up your autonomy for the sake of others. It was unfamiliar territory, but he knew it was right. For now. “But I don’t think that’s your plan. So, what is?”

---

Jackie Maradona

[Jackie Maradona]

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[attr="class","jikan"] [attr="class","hiraeth"]私は世界を変えたい

[attr="class","achee"] [attr="class","castleonthehill"] ❝ Grinta shook her head. "De'pite my 'esitance, I don't think Sho is necessa'ily a bad ri'k to 'ave around." After enough strutting along the ledge, Grinta eventually returned to a squat along the thin border, crossing her arms over her shins. "In fact, I think 'aving a figu'e like that around i' mo'e useful than not; they could be a resou'ce, a scapegoat, or an unwilling puppet if need be. Don't get me wrong, though; it's a risky play. If he amasses mo'e power than the re't of the Undertow, then everything — shou, me, and the re't of the network — will cease to be." "Of course," she strained her neck a tad bit forward, "that issue i' held off if he perceives us as assets. If we play thi' game with him, and if we manage our cards dutifully, then the turnout on both ends can be beneficial. We all 'ave our own inte'ests in thi' matter, after all; though hi' 'tory i' faulty, there i' the possibility 'e, too, fears giving away mo'e information about 'imself than 'e can without risk. But of course, if things need be, the'e i' the other path in dealing with 'im. I recommend we 'old off on that option until further notice." A sound buzzed from the vigilante's wrist. Her bracer lit up, a bleeding white light projection into a digital screen. Grinta flinched at the sudden buzzing, quickly pulling her wrist to her face and staring for a moment. With a quick, jolting lurch to her full height — followed by a brief rebalancing — Grinta offered Ghouligan a slight bow. "For now, I must be going. I 'ave business elsewhere to take care of, but I do believe enough's been said regarding the most pressing matters between shou and I. I'll see to the progress on the network, as promised, and I'll convene with Gadget and Warper for their input." She tipped her hat to him as she stood back up properly. "Try not to die, shou lunatic." And with that, she shot off into the sky, the lights of her form dissipating, fading into the black of the sky as she disappeared. ✉ tag -- Ghouligan ✎ 360 words ※ 'Nough Said, To Business I Attend

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Tag: Ghouligan

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