Delta 2: Jefferson City Shindig

Well, this was kind of a shitshow, huh? Honestly, despite how comfortable it was here next to his rescuer's chest, Ira had to admit that he was at least a little bit uncomfortable at the thought that he was nice and cozy here with the pretty lady while everyone outside was getting lopped in two. A real conundrum.

"Can't say I really know what the plan was. Seemed like they had things pretty lined up, least in their heads."

While he wasn't exactly admitting to Yugiri that his depiction of a young girl had been a facade, Ira also wasn't doing much to pretend he was anything other than an old man. Of course, he was still held nice and close to that chest. He'd stay right there as long as she let him, honestly, especially considering he couldn't do too much to help with the whole wanton slaughter thing. He'd have liked to, though.

"Maybe their heads weren't on right, though."

Things continued to escalate, and throughout it Yaksha had about as much visible reaction as the statues that had lain in wait for them to approach. The demons were falling in droves, a select few turning away and fleeing, simply trying to save their own skins: This implied that they either feared him more than the one who had brought them here, or that failure to incapacitate the targets hadn't been associated with a terrible fate. Which was interesting in and of itself; one who had brought beasts like this here only to run amok, without any purpose? And then created this trap? Their motives were growing murkier by the moment.

Add onto this their apparent interest in prioritizing and defanging the Vandenreich as they entered the city. The quincies in particular seemed to be an object of focus for them, raising even more questions about some possible past relationship with the organization. Some foe they had once vanquished but not fully slain? Or a person with history with someone within the group? Too many options, too many possibilities. Yaksha's brain moved at ludicrous speeds, but over and over simply struck solid obstructions. He needed to learn more.

And there was the matter of Jenkins. The commander in arms had simply been spirited away, in a manner that made Yaksha curious in the extreme. Phasing through solid matter was an interesting trick, especially when one made that matter selectively permeable to others; it implied a great deal of surveillance, and great precision. They had identified one of the key targets, and quickly handled them. But why take them underground? If the objective was to kill them, there were other ways that could be just as final, and just as decisive. It implied something Yaksha was becoming more and more certain of as the moments passed:

They had set out bait for the Vandenreich, hoping to draw a great number of quincies to the city, but hadn't accounted for what else may have been attracted by that same bait. It was much like a bear wandering towards a hunter lying in wait for wolves to eat the poisoned meat left for them, and mauling the unsuspecting man. They had planned, near to the point of absurdity, how to deal with the quincies. But the vasto lorde? Far less so.

And now one of the surviving quincies seem to be taking lead by virtue of simply being most willing to accept command, approaching and calling out to him. Yaksha made a very concerted effort to close his eyes before ever turning to acknowledge them, wondering for a single idle second if their tone would change in the slightest if they were to look into his eyes for longer than a scant second. They asked him something about his questions, naturally including an insinuation that could be taken as a barb in it. Why was it they continued to believe provoking him would lead to a desirable outcome?

"I can already tell you will become a spectacular commander. Allow me to give you one piece of advice about the best generals: They only ever give commands they know their subordinates already wish to follow."

He held out one hand, allowing it to dangle out in front of him. As he exhaled, the fingers vibrated ever so slightly, and seemed to swell up and out, the tips turning into bulbs that slowly and rhythmically pulsed, bringing to mind fruit growing on a branch in an extremely sped-up motion. They each expanded and began to move in queer, unreadable ways, before at the tip of each finger there was a white flame, no larger than a person's eyeball, hovering. He turned his palm over, blowing upon it, and setting all five flames aloft.

Yaksha took to the skies. Five times, in two seconds. His mind seemed to expand outwards, connecting to each of the flames in a distant, faroff manner, bringing to mind surveillance cameras for a second. And then with his other hand he did the same, allowing it to expand and grow. The process took perhaps ten seconds each time he did it, but he seemed perfectly content to keep doing it until something interrupted the process.

The skies would alight with eyes, for all to see. This city was his territory, and no predator worth their salt allowed their territory to be invaded by others. He would sniff out the culprit of this ridiculous trap, and then he had quite a few questions for them. In the meantime, he would do as much as he could to ensure that the Vandenreich made it out of this place intact. It would do greatly towards his other objective.