Remi-chan's Writing Snippets~

[Remi-chan]

She looked upon the heavens and sighed, bored beyond reason. Shallow. Meaningless. Coddlery.

There would be no excitement, no fun to be found here. A nursery for the self-righteous.

No... only the world of man could entertain her fanatical zeal.

A holy war did not interest her, she was beyond such mundane trivialities. In her world, you fought for the sheer joy of it. You conquered for the rush, you warred for the thrill. The sound of cannons firing, the roar of sirens. The butchery of man, the burning of the dead. It was all she ever wanted, glorious conquest.

A battle both bloody and burning, the unfit cut down, ears haranged by brutal sound, beautiful bottomless butchery.

To rain fire from the sky, to see the cascade of rupturous explosions litter the horizon like timed flares... All the little shadows scampering about as the tide of the war turns grim. O' how will their desperation manifest? Will they burn a bridge, beg for a mercy they shan't receive? Unveil a machine of war, gain even a smidgen of reprieve? The pleasure of such unpredictable action, brought forth by the doomed opposing faction. 'Twas always one of her favourite things.

O' war, O' conquest, 'O beautiful burning butchery~ The frenzy, the pitiless chaos, the enemy's agony. And now... she would feast.

Her name was Kira Honojiko. Warmonger, veteran, scar of a nation. Jamaica's stain, eternally their shame, but not hers. She didn't care, they were tools, weapons in her pocket. Enemies to be made, victims upon which to prey.

In death, she would ascend down to the pits of hell, she would become an even greater icon of war. Man's folly made manifest, she would use hell as her engine, the devil her witness- as she marched once again. And upon the humid swamps of her home full of the oppressed, would she gather those with the will to fight until their death.

An army born to fight a war is an army made to continue a war. Upon the first blast of the cannons, her opposition took one look, her form had changed, the image reframed, but they knew...

It was her. it was always going to be her.

The Maiden of Hellfire. She who evoked the image of hell on earth, had now brought hell to earth. And fangs bared, her hounds hungry, she unleashed the bloody beasts and let them drink deep and dine deviantly. A perfect hysteria. Ample bloodshed. Godless rapture. It was the same war, but a piece had changed, and now... Fire was all they would know, embers of the hells rained down like hellish snow.

The Lady of Inferno she would be crowned, the war went on, fear of her renowned. Where she would point a finger, the next moment there were flames. No escape from the fire. No pity from the pyre.

If you turned, you got burned. If you learned, your life was earned. In flames and defeat, the enemy sought retreat. But this time, they found only a wall of fire, and in every other direction, death did transpire. Shock, then a blaze. Silence, the end of days.

This is the only way it could have ended.

Just some writing I did about Kira, revealing-- if cryptically, a little of her backstory.