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Fantasy New Oasis: Four Heavenly Kings — The B-Sides

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CORVO CORDESCO
SCENE:
The Enduring Hurrah
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3, Evening of May 27th, 2022
LOCATION:
Red West Bar
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Hitoshi, Hide, Charlie, Corvo, Milo, Rin, Roza, Boltius, Ashley, Gideon, Dimitri
The Enduring Hurrah
"Cabernet Sauvignon." The bartender poured a glass of the red wine at her request, calmly returning to his duties while Hector began his winding speech in the background. And it was a riveting speech, albeit daringly optimistic. Empires rise, empires fall; it was the people never let go of them or accepted that. The new Queen was living proof of such a case.

In their state, there were already plans to raid two high-value targets at the same period. Like she thought: daringly optimistic.

Corvo sipped the wine, the savory flavor of dark fruits nipping at her taste buds and down her throat. As the rest of the invited Phoenixes cheered to Hector's serenade, she rose from her seat. His vigorous speech held no power to her—not when she had plans of her own.

Her mind wandered to Romero. The dog must've been bored out of its mind, stuck outside just because he bit off one of the bar stools and mauled it—cushion and metal and all—to shreds.

Meanwhile, outside, the absurdly large doberman still did just that, using the bar stool like a bone to chew on. But as it spat out fibers and plastic, Romero caught a whiff of something. It rose on all fours, turning head to where the delicious scent came from. Panting hungrily, it followed.

As the smell became stronger, he ran.

In one second, where Roza stood—holding the source of the mouth-watering smell in her very hands—a loud crash overshadowed everything. The table flipped on its side, its wooden stand splintering as the doberman literally charged through it, jumping in the air and snatching the burger from Roza's hand.

Romero skidded to a stop ahead, almost darting off with his treat before his master's voice echoed, "Lascia!" Just like that, Romero froze in place. He dropped the mauled burger from his mouth, drenched in slobber. He panted happily with his tongue stuck out.

"I'm sorry about that," Corvo began (though noticeably nonchalantly). She walked out among the trio, not batting a glance to any of them, instead gazing ahead across the open streets. The wine swished in her glass, held precariously in one hand. "Romero here is an opportunist when it comes for food. One time he stole a hotdog from an NP—and accidentally took three of his fingers!" she mused with a wry chuckle.

Then at last, she looked at the three, smiling countenance unchanged. "So, are you out here because you found the new Queen's oration 'mettere paglia al fuoco' as well? Tempting fate." She took another sip of her glass, turning back to staring out beyond the streets. Romero laid quietly beside Corvo.

RedArmyShogun RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen EmperorsChosen Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
NIKOLAI NOVAK
SCENE:
Down Diabolical
TIME:
1:25 AM || October 2nd, 2019 || Pre-arc 1
LOCATION:
Novak's Decrepit Mansion, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Nikolai, Ruthe
DOWN DIABOLICAL
Nikolai stared at the dark ceiling of his bedroom, his eyes slightly burning from staying open for so long. He sighed out of frustration, for the millionth time rearranging himself in his sheets, trying to find a comfortable enough position to just relax. He wasn't sure why exactly his brain and body refused to let him sleep right now. He'd done his usual routine! He'd had his quiet dinner, soft music on his record player playing while he jogged a bit while he waited to digest, showered, brushed his teeth, set off a different disc in his bedroom record player for him to fall asleep to... and yet here he was. Awake. With the soft melody repeating for the 5th time that night.

He grunted, sitting up and glancing at his clock. Oh great... it was already so late... Now he'll have to pack on his red undereye makeup even more to cover up those unsightly eyebags in the morning. He rolled his eyes before flopping back down, arms spread. Reaching over, Nikolai pressed a pillow to his face, nearly tight enough to suffocate, before letting out an anguished scream into it. The denseness of the pillow muffled it, the faint scent of his cologne- Cinnamon, ozone, tobacco, and a hint of Jasmine- filling his nostrils.

Sighing, he furrowed his brows before closing his eyes once more, forcing himself and his mind to shut up, and try once more for sleep. If this kept on for long- well... There was always alcohol. He'd be down like a flaming hot air balloon.


 
Rutheless Julio Hernandez
SCENE:
Swords and Snakes[Pre-Arc 1, January 23, 2020]
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
| Hector | Rutheless |
Swords & Snakes
For the length of his proposal, her grimace did not fade, and her stare into the pit of his hues did not falter. For whatever came through that big mouth of his, had one and one chance alone to meet the pleasure of the serpentine woman before him; and the ominous tranquility that radiated off her motionless pose only hinted at the broiling wrath beneath her very skin. For what seemed like a lifetime since the last moment Rutheless even took the slightest breath, a single brow slowly crept up her temple at the mark of his offer.

“A hunt, you say..?”

Quite vividly did appeasement seem to strike her expression, as a serrated talon rose to tap the tip of her jawline under a muse of thought. Glossed lips murmured jumbled words beneath a breath as if to chant something under a different tongue entirely with no evident kind intent. What appears to have been the settle of whatever conference she seemed to have held within her own subconscious, Ruthe kicks her heels off the table counter before rising above him and stalking to the edge of his seat with a demented leer. “Darling, I thought you’d never ask..” Her words take purchase as the frigid chill of claw slides up his chin to subtly pull his stare toward her own.

“Grab a bottle of Vodka then, dearest." She cooed. "I’ll be outside.” With that, her hand grazes down his neck before sliding off his shoulder as she takes her leave. Those within her walking path quickly shuffling out of her way all the while the fashionable click of her heels trailed out the door. Usually, such a route would have taken her straight to her exclusive parking spot that held her bike, and she was pleased to see she was still respectable enough for no one to take the lot space in its absence. However, a slight grin tugged at the edge of her lip as she stepped out into the street; perhaps it was less the node of respect and moreso the formidably cruel reputation she was noted for, handling, those who thought themselves above. A bright light then glowed from the peripheral of her stare, headlights, and yet her stride didn’t stop.

By this time of day, the silhouette of Ruthe’s figure was barely seen until the last second, and the man at the wheel had just managed to stomp the brakes and swerve away from hitting the middle-aged woman that so blatantly walked into the street. Under an impulse of fury, the male slammed his fist on the dashboard and took a step out the vehicle. “what in the Kamala Harris.. AYE BITCH, YOU GOT A DEATHWI–!!” In what felt like the fraction of a second did the male find his words to fall back down his stock-stilled gullet. He’d run at the sight of that woman if he could, if every muscle within him didn’t betray his own will as he stared dead center into her slit pupils. And before him, leaning delicately upon the hood of the car was Rutheless and a hair full of hissing mambas.

The male would scream if he could, though his mercy came in the form of hands grabbing hold of his collar before ripping him from the car. By the time the man pulled himself off the ground, his car had sped off with the two gangsters inside.

After reapplying a small layer of mascara upon her eyelids, Rutheless raked her hands through the horde of snakes that encompassed her scalp, seemingly calming the riled serpents as she hushed their nuisant hissing till once more regressed into their dreadlock appearance. Promptly came a sigh as she crossed her legs and withdrew two glasses from the passenger seat, carefully pouring the beverage while Hector ran nearly every red light before him. “Where do you reckon would be the first place we search?” Rutheless inclined as she extended a glass to him. “That little vermin could be anywhere at this point..”
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
The Enduring Hurrah
LOCATION:
Red West Bar, a Phoenix hub in the South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lotsa Phoenixes
THE ENDURING HURRAH

"Oh, nothing much! Just been taking as many jobs as I can get as always, things are pretty hectic as of late so security demand is sky-high, we should spar more often though! Remind me to give you my phone number later"

Out of the people that had joined recently and he got to know, Rin was definitely Charlie's favorite, so he felt like it was his obligation as his "senior" to get closer to her and make her feel more welcome into the gang, plus, her company was just lovely.

Charlie took a seat as he noticed the other girl's motioning.

"Roza it is, then!" he took a short moment to get comfortable on his seat, as well as shoving his thick braid behind his back.

"Haven't heard your name before so I'm guessing you must be pretty new, well welcome aboard then! If you ever need help with anything I'd be more than happy to lend you a hand"

Despite her outwardly cold expression, Charlie was able to tell that the girl was, at the very least, making an effort at being social, he wasn't sure if her somewhat reclused behavior was because she was just a recent rookie, or if that was just an inherent part of her personality, either way he was always overjoyed to meet more of his juniors.

Just as he planned to continue speaking, his intentions were cut short as a huge dog tackled the table down, the boy was certainly caught off-guard by the canine assault, but quickly relaxed as he recognized it.

"Romero!" Without a second thought, Charlie leaned over and hugged the dog, following by scratching both his chin and the top of his head at the same time, he also noticed Corvo's presence, who to his surprise was dressed in quite the fashionable way.

"Hello, Corvo! You look great tonight, that dress really suits you!"






In Scene: joshuadim joshuadim Elenion Aura Elenion Aura WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart The Prophet The Prophet Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed

Interacting with: EmperorsChosen EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun RedArmyShogun AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Behind The Scenes
TIME:
October 6th, 2021 | Pre Arc 3
LOCATION:
Passeri's Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric
Behind The Scenes
Passeri leaned back into her chair, and the tension throughout her body unfurled. She'd been getting worried. Worried that this good Officer was the sort of hardass that wouldn't crack no matter how hard she tried, but finally, there it was, a chip in his armoured facade.

He was human after all.

"It's never really just one thing, is it?" Her expression went wry, cracking a lax smile. "I care about my career, I care about my concert, I care about the cause, and yes, I care about my friend too, even if she doesn't feel the same way anymore. I know I do a good job at hiding it, but I'm only human after all! Can't help who I wanna go out to bat for."

There was a pause as Passeri mimicked Eric's actions, scooping up a cherry and popping it into her mouth. Her eyebrows furrowed as she chewed, knitting together a quilt of compromise. There was a way they could both walk out of this with what they wanted.

"I do see where you're coming from, though..." Another pause. Mulling. Over her thoughts, that is. That was the intended effect. "I... Might be asking for a bit much here, but... Name suppression and light punishment. I can probably convince her to plead guilty if that's the case. Then you get your culprit, and she doesn't get her life ruined because of a..."

Another moment to ponder.

"...Bad day. Do you um- Do you think that we could work something like that out?" Her voice was pleading, and her eyes were too.
 
Roza Grigorievna
SCENE:
Phoenixes Pre-Arc 3: The Enduring Hurrah
LOCATION:
Red West Bar, a Phoenix hub in the South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Hide, Charlie, Corvo, Milo, Rin, Boltius, Ashley,
Gideon, Dimitri, Hector, Roza, Ryoma
The Enduring Hurrah

Evening of May 27th, 2022

As Charlie made and offer of assistance, Roza nodded and was about to eat her first burger as a sudden movement caught her attention, her right hand releases her burger and drops for the knife she had reached for before, eyes going wide and pupils narrowing as the mongrel went for her center mass, a doberman. As she realized it wasn't after her. but rather the food, her hand goes back down. Standing from the seat she took and the overturned table as a woman in a red dress offered a half assed apology. Though a fellow gang member, Roza was more than a little displeased as the dog just drops the burger on command.

"Three fingers huh. Then you should let him finish the one he took from me and what else he knocked over, if he is full then he should not do the same again today I hope." While Charlie liked the dog, named Romero, the pink haired girl kept her distance. Still, she answered what Corvo had asked, "I'm not a fan of being in a small space with a lot of people, that's how you invite a bombing. Outdoors would have been better. Or a larger structure. I did catch the majority of it from the doorway. These ideas of his may be things I can help with."

"Now that I think about it, I saw your dog before, chewing on part of a bar stool. But I went a different way."
With that in mind, she looks at the rest, and then Corvo in particular.

"So, is whatever you said why you are out here too?"

Looking back at Charlie she decided to respond to his offer as well. "If I think of anything Charlie, I'll ask. And yes, I joined, or was invited back in early march."

Letting her gaze shift to Rin, she wondered how that one would respond to all of this, given she was sitting next to her during all of this.



joshuadim joshuadim Elenion Aura Elenion Aura WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart The Prophet The Prophet Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
Interactions
EmperorsChosen EmperorsChosen (Rin) Roda the Red Roda the Red (Charlie) AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa (Corvo)
 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Love at Yu Min Cuisine
TIME:
February 14th, 2022 | Pre Arc 3
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
The Quirkforce, Samira, Minato, Camila, Passeri, Alicia, Gideon
Love at Yu Min Cuisine
Passeri suppressed a twitch.

Blonde, flanked by a cavalcade of pitying bystanders, and doe-eyed like she'd never spent a moment with New Oasis's concrete wilderness. Though, she supposed that last one wasn't a plural anymore, but that hardly mattered. Passeri had heard of this girl.

"Oh, gosh!" Passeri's face lit up with that faux, practised and pleasant surprise that she kept reserved for situations like this. She caught Alicia's hand without hesitation, though she could've sworn she felt her skin crawl an inch when she did. "Without a doubt! Lovely to meet you Miss...?" Passeri trailed off, probing Alicia the finish her sentence, but it was a performative gesture. She already well-knew who the blonde-haired, birdcage princess was, and she doubted anybody who was anybody within the Tigers didn't.

"Can't say I was expecting a pop quiz, either!" Passeri withdrew her hand and turned her attention to that suave ghast of a man, Elias. She caught her benefactor's question of a brief flash of her pearly whites, and enough pep in her voice to cook a pot of gumbo. "Mind if I take a seat, first?"

She didn't wait for an answer, and slid into the seat nearest to her, which unfortunately was situated right next to the Tigers' golden goose.

"Just give up! That's the easiest way to do it. It can be good for your career, too, so long as you don't get up to anything too naughty." She was being frank. There was nothing the public loved more than stuffing their noses into what wasn't supposed to be public. "But, supposing you want to live a normal life behind all the camera flashes, really the best advice I can give is a tight security detail, and an apartment as high up as you can get. Nobody can hide in your bushes if you don't have any!"

It was a straightforward answer, but by her experience, it was the best one she could offer. Especially in this day and age where there we HPs who could cloak themselves and fly high in the skies, there were few better security systems than a locked elevator, and some scary suits.

"Enough of that stuffy-stuff, though! We've got a nice dining room and lovely company, isn't there anything less gloomy we can talk about?"
 
Yuna Lee
SCENE:
Crayon sure knows how to pick 'em!
TIME:
2:30 pm| Post-arc 2
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Yuna Lee, Darius Kennedy
Crayon sure knows how to pick 'em!
“Fucking’— Ugh whatever.”

The female grumbled as she tossed the empty lighter on the ground beside her. She grabbed the cherry flavored cigarette sitting between her lips and gently tucked it behind her ear as she rummaged through her black bag.

Lipstick, lip balm, millions of receipts, empty tiny liquor bottles, but no goddamn extra lighter. She exhaled loudly and put the cigarette between her lips again, snapping her finger a few times before a little red flame emerged from her finger tip, hovering the cigarette over it. As soon as she felt the juicy nicotine and cherry taste hitting her lungs, she shook out her hand to put out the flame. She leaned against the railing on the street again, waiting for Darius to come out. Her red eyes began to return to it’s normal onyx color a few seconds after the flames went out. She had planned to hang out with Darius for some time now, she promised she would show him the arcade she frequented and how to play some of the games there, but first she had to pick up her stuff from her old boyfriends house. She had left a few items of her clothing and other things thinking they wouldn’t have broken up so soon. She didn’t think he would’ve turned out to be so clingy.

Yuna had a habit of having multiple boyfriends. Life was meaningless, which meant so was love, nobody had caught her eyes enough to keep them glued to them anyways, so why did it matter?

Her old boyfriend was a bit … Spiteful. It took her a couple of grueling days after they broke up to get him answer any sort of communication, just to get her stuff back! ‘Blagh …’ She thought to herself as she remember how anxiety inducing this was. She impatiently tapped her feet as she waited a few more impatient seconds and groaned, holding the cigarette between her lips as she grabbed her phone to text Darius to hurry up. She was nervous he would be spiteful if she wasn’t at his place on the dot, the commute to his place from hers was a pain in the ass.


 
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ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Behind the Scenes
LOCATION:
Passeri's Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric
BEHIND THE SCENES

"You do really seem to care, Miss Park, this may not the very professional...But I can respect your wishes. I can't guarantee you that I can grant exactly what you want, for I'm just a single gear in this machine, but..."

He grabbed his notebook and pen, and flipped into another page, quickly writing down a series of numbers, as he was done, he ripped the page off, gently sliding it forward on the table with three fingers.

"I will need you to get me a full name, an address and any possible additional information you can give me, if I can get my hands on her on my own, my word may have more weight when it comes to her sentence, by my own judgement I'd say that two years of house arrest sounds light enough, though it could be more than that. Honestly, your "friend" is really lucky that no one got hurt."

Eric thought that it was a proper compromise, he'd be able to get the criminal and close the case, and Passeri wouldn't have to struggle with the hassle of the drama or the guilt. It's not like his own personal bias was getting in the way of his judgement... Right?.

He got up from his chair, putting all of his belongings into his fanny pack, and readjusted his tie. He walk towards the window, and once again stared into the expanse of the city.

"I may not show it often, but I like this city, and it needs all the help it can get, specially with those four gangs wreaking havoc on a daily basis."

He turned around, staring at Passeri, his face wore a calm smile, one that looked more sincere than the one he had previously.

"I hope we can continue making our own efforts into making this city a better place, even if it's just little by little"

The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
Ryoma Matsuno
SCENE:
Phoenixes Pre-Arc 3: The Enduring Hurrah
LOCATION:
Red West Bar, a Phoenix hub in the South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Hide, Charlie, Corvo, Milo, Rin, Boltius, Ashley,
Gideon, Dimitri, Hector, Roza
The Enduring Hurrah
Doggieeee!

The rapid patter of short steps accompanied Aoko's voice as she darted underneath gathering table to gathering table. Arms held out wide as if mimicking the wings of an airplane, she came to a complete halt in front of the large Doberman, before easing in to hug the furry beast in full. Ryoma wasn't far behind, following in toe, his left hand held a disposable metal tray filled to the brim with an assortment of barbeque items. Easily holding enough hamburgers, hotdogs, ribs, and sausages to fully satisfy the hunger of at least three to four people.

~~~
Ryoma had just about gotten up and left the grill without it when he first heard the commotion. Instinctively he had began scanning for rival gang members, primed to start sprinting to meet them. The ones he had expected to appear any minute since the moment he had arrived at the gathering. However, his shoulders soon lowered as the rest of his body eased back into a state of calm, once he had realized it was merely Romero making a mess of the place.

"Hahaha! Relax Ryoma... ain't nobody dumb enough to hit this place. A damn fortress with all of us here. ... Annnnd there she's goes... don't forget your food!" Aoko's father quipped from behind the grill.

He had dressed for the occasion, sporting a bright yellow short sleeve shirt with palm trees and shorts to match. His shades reflected the meat on the grill as he worked constantly to serve the influx of Phoenixes who kept returning for seconds and thirds. Watching as his four year old daughter slowly disappeared from his sight, he motioned for Ryoma to quickly follow after her with his spatula, a grin appearing on his face.

~~~
"Polite as ever." Ryoma remarked.

Announcing his presence to no one in particular. It wasn't exactly clear whether he was referring to Romero specifically with this or was including Corvo as well. Given the way she was standing idle, unapologetically, and seemingly not even considering aiding in cleaning the mess. His use of eye contact did little to clear this fact up as he soon switched his attention to Charlie, the only other face he recognized among the group.

"Long time no see. How have you been Charlie?"
~~~

In the midst of conversation, Ryoma couldn't help but notice he had earned the full attention of Romero, who stared intently at the metal tray in his hands. Tracking the dogs gaze as he moved the tray left to right, Ryoma smiled to himself. Watching as little Aoko began to roughly handle the dog in her ill attempts at petting him. Ryoma soon pulled from the tray a freshly grilled hotdog, lightly charred and covered in greasy goodness.

Romero licked his lips as Aoko furthered in her rough housing by attempting to clamber onto the dog's back. Though, he didn't seem to pay it any mind as Ryoma leaned forward with the promise of delicious food. However, just before reaching the dog's mouth, Ryoma stopped and glanced toward Corvo. Romero followed his eyes briefly before returning to his prize. Swallowing, he closed his mouth momentarily, before returning to his insistent panting.

Ryoma slowly raised the hotdog away from the canine's mouth and instead balanced the tantalizing treat on the dogs snout. A clear test of his discipline. Ryoma looked on with amusement, but also mild respect as the dog ceased his panting, Looking at the end of his snout where the warm, freshly cooked hotdog, that was no doubt overpowering his senses lay. His eyes went up toward Corvo expectantly, before back to the hotdog, and Corvo once more.

In Scene: joshuadim joshuadim Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed Elenion Aura Elenion Aura EmperorsChosen EmperorsChosen Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart The Prophet The Prophet WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten

Interactions: Roda the Red Roda the Red AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
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(Jasper) Dante | West | The Princess Penthouse





At the suggestion of using her potential on the guards, Dante's brows furrowed. He almost shook his head. There was no point. Anyone who had been her guard, knew the rule about her potential:

Take nothing she offers you. You'll be under her power once you do.​

He'd done research by merely being her guard and watching the interactions she'd had. But with the development of her power evolving, that did mean things could be different. He remained silent while she worked up the nerve to get her thoughts together. The distress she was feeling however did leave Dante slightly concerned, but he watched patiently to see if anything would happen.

He almost brushed off the rabbit hopping about when he saw it because he was waiting for something bigger to happen like he'd seen in the memory Elias had shown him, but when he looked again, dawning on him how odd it was to see a rabbit here, of all things- he paused.

Oh both brows went up.

She did it.

Dante stared with some hint of surprise as he looked at the little impact on reality that she had made and looked up at her with an encouraging smile. "You did. Good job Alice." He replied with praise and softness in his tone, deciding not to give her a headpat or wipe away the tear, because it could possibly affect her concentration or whatever had given her the power to use the ability. "Your power, from what I understand it, is based on illusions- affecting the senses" especially one in particular "If you can change the area around you with your power." He reached over, getting closer to the rabbit to determine if he could feel anything from the contact with the grass, "or at least use it to blindside your guards when they don't know the extent of your power- then it would be perfect."

Otherwise, I suppose you'd have to drug them with that tea of yours. Unless you have other ways to do that, even then, I'm not too keen on that idea, especially if it fails.

"What do you feel while you're doing this?Try to see if you can do anything more right now while you can." He gently advised. "When you impact reality like this," his hand moved from the grass to the rabbit, "you can make alterations to it with practice. If we can figure out just how far your power works in that sense, we can plan how to distract the guards or even better, surprise them. Maybe even make it possible to fool them you are present when you aren't." Rising back up to stand, having both felt actual grass, and even felt the whiskers and cheeks of the rabbit wiggle and nuzzle into his hand.




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Interactions: Lucem Lucem AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
Rin Chiyase
CS Link
SCENE:
Phoenixes Pre-Arc 3: The Enduring Hurrah
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3: Evening of May 27th, 2022
LOCATION:
Red West Bar, a Phoenix hub in the South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Hide, Charlie, Corvo, Milo, Rin, Boltius, Ashley,
Gideon, Dimitri, Hector, Roza
The Enduring Hurrah
"Long as yer not being shy," Rin replied with a hearty laugh.

Quiet was some people's preference, which was fine. It was quiet not being a preference that Rin wanted to avoid. Some people didn't have a problem integrating with a new group, like Rin, because she was dense and hardy enough to walk through any walls, welcome or not. Roza seemed to be more reserved though. It was good that she could meet Charlie given he'd been around for a while and Rin felt she and him were on the same wavelength. He was a good dude to know.

"I know what ya' mean! Always boring though... no one acts up when I'm standin' guard..." Rin pouted a bit at that, but was quick to perk back up. "Oh, yes, yes! Then I can bug ya' when I'm bored! Gimme!"

However, that thought became sidetracked as the table they sat at was slammed like someone who owed the mob money. Rin sat rather inactively, just watching the scene play out as the doberman snatched one of the burgers and dashed off with it before a sharp voice froze it to a halt. Following the direction of a voice, presumably the dog's owner made herself known in the form of a particularly pretty and fancy-looking woman.

Given Charlie's reaction, the dog was Romero and the woman Corvo, respectively.

"Ah, speech was fine. Just thought I'd mingle. Gotta meet people when you're new! Rin, by the way," The oni introduced with a friendly grin, glancing over briefly when a small girl appeared and immediately set her sights on the large hound. Rin chuckled a bit at the sight before a much larger man appeared with a plate in hand and seemed to be testing the animal's restraint. Clearly impressed, Rin opted to follow-up on the unknown acquaintance of Charlie's. "Oohhh!" She exclaimed as if this were some sort of new game, quickly darting from her seat to the plate and soliciting one of the hot dogs before carefully and steadily stacking it atop the one Ryoma set on Romero's snout. As she slowly withdrew her hand, she laughed again. "Hey~ He's pretty good!"

RedArmyShogun RedArmyShogun (Roza) Roda the Red Roda the Red (Charlie) AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa (Corvo) Stros Stros (Ryoma)
 
PEYTON XIONG
SCENE:
I Won't Become a Monster!!
LOCATION:
Fog Grove, North District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 || February 19th, 2015
PARTICIPANTS:
Damian, Peyton
I WON'T BECOME A MONSTER!!
Just what was Peyton standing next to? The tall, dark but friendly protectorate he had by his side had transformed into a monster, his eyes devoid of life. The monster's screams were like a ghastly wail that made the hairs on the back of Peyton's neck stand up.

The pressure-bound fear spread throughout Peyton's body until it was pushing at the seams of his fingertips, begging to be released. His mind shutting down, Peyton cowered in fear, covering his ears with his hands. And it was just in time. His Lucky Potential activated, and when he ducked, it caused Peyton to avoid one of Damian's tentacles, which would've torn him in half if he had not moved. Instead, it shot through the chest of one of the thugs present, leaving the thug struggling to breathe as he realized his lung was wholly destroyed.

Peyton could only stay in that fetal position crouched on the ground, covering his ears and closing his eyes. Yet despite that, he could hear every crash perfectly and every scream vividly. His mind made up for the lack of sight, imagining the cage bursting and the house falling down around him. Then, when the screams and the sounds of destruction ceased, Peyton opened his eyes, only to see that it was far worse than he had anticipated. The spooky house had completely transformed into a scene of rubble and debris. Above him, the gray sky jeered at him as snow penetrated into the living room.

"Wh-wh-what?" Peyton stuttered, his mind numb. When he saw Damian walk toward him, Peyton took several steps back. When he had backed away from Damian in surprise before, he moved away with revulsion and terror, until the back of his heel hit a piece of debris. He remembered the words that Damian had used on the way here.

"If anything or anyone ever gets in your way," Damian had said, "Make them crumble."

Crumble. Destruction. Peyton looked around at the uninhabitable mess that they were in, the gruesome mangled bodies of those who threatened them. He didn't want to admit that he liked the sight of it. No, he wouldn't admit it, even to himself.

"Damian, are you okay?" Peyton asked, forcefully, as if he was questioning Damian's sanity, "You just killed them in cold blood and you're cool with that?"

Then, when he realized something about the situation, anger flooded Peyton.

"You almost killed me!" Peyton said, uncharacteristic regard for his own wellbeing emerging, "I may be working as a lab subject, but you can't just hurt me when you feel like it!"

If not for how much he saw himself in Damian, Peyton probably wouldn't have been so pissed off. But Damian's destructive deed seemed to echo the feelings that Peyton had confided to Damian about before. Was this what he was in for if he were to continue working as a lab rat? No, Peyton couldn't accept those changes to himself. But he also couldn't just simply up and walk away from the work opportunity. He still had debts to pay. His only choice was to keep trudging on with his work without changing. And that meant he was not okay with what was happening here.

With a huff, Peyton turned away from Damian and began to walk out of the house. He said, "Forget about the ice cream. I'm not hanging out with you."

And with that, Peyton walked away from the broken scene of debris, not sparing a look behind. Part of him berated himself for working with Damian. Part of him was disappointed. But both parts of him agreed that Peyton couldn't associate himself with someone like Damian. Damian was a monster, someone who acted on a primal desire. Peyton felt that Damian was someone who needed help, but was too far removed from his problem to be able to acquire any. Peyton was still sane. They were not the same. Yet. And Peyton refused to become a monster like Damian.

If only he knew how futile his efforts were going to be.

 
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DAMIAN
SCENE:
Rock and a Hard Place
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
TIME:
Pre Arc-3 | September 30th, 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Damian, Sang-Cheol
ROCK AND A HARD PLACE
While it was disappointing to learn that Sang-Cheol couldn't provide any insight on what happened to Raphael, the new details he revealed about the mission itself were quite interesting. Damian was curious about the angry man's run-in with a member of the Scarlet Phoenixes, but the mention of zombies was what really captured his attention. He would've asked more, hoping for information on how the undead came to be, but he was quickly distracted when the conversation turned back to the job he was being hired to carry out.

Sang-Cheol's offer was very tempting, and it only seemed to be getting better. He already had an interest in the mysterious nature of this assignment, but the apparent connection to Raphael's disappearance made him even more intent on carrying it out. This was a trove of knowledge waiting to be unearthed, and there was even more compensation waiting for him at the end in the form of a tour of the lab. It was far too good to pass up.

"I think we have a deal." Rising from his seat, Damian tucked the manila folder inside his coat. He didn't question the need for secrecy. The only thing that mattered here was the reward he'd receive in exchange for his work. If keeping these events to himself was a requirement to get it, then he'd do so without question. Besides, there was something amusing about hiding a secret that even the King couldn't know about.

"So, where would you like me to start?" There were a lot of addresses listed in the file, but he could only investigate one location at a time. It was best to ask if his employer had a preference before he chose one at random. Although, it'd make little difference. With his eyes on the prize, he'd carry this out quickly, not resting until he collected every piece of data on this unknown project.

Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
Rock and A Hard Place
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
TIME:
Pre Arc-3 | September 30th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Damien
Rock and A Hard Place

Finally, the negotiations were over. Damien had accepted the deal between them. This was good for Sang-Cheol. With any luck, Damien would be able to find something from the list of locations that were in the folder. Watching Damien rose from his seat, a spike of annoyance shot into Sang-Cheol's brain, but he kept his cool. As long as Damien fulfilled the end of his purpose, then he could deal with Damien.

"Where to start?" Sang-Cheol repeated. The scientist thought for a second before shrugging. "I'll allow your intuition to carry itself out. As long as you get me more information, then I'd be satisfied." With that, Sang-Cheol also rose from his seat. There wasn't any reason to stay here any longer now that everything he wanted to do was done. Heading out of the door, he gave one last look at Damien. "Also, how much I'll show you more of the lab is based on the information you bring. That is all I have to say." With that, he left the room.

In a matter of seconds, he was immediately flanked by his doppelganger, Olivine. There was an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. After they walked a reasonable distance from the room, Olivine spoke up. "Are you sure about this, Boss-nim?" So, Olivine was skeptical. Sang-Cheol narrowed his eyes at his worker. "Letting Damien down to the lower floors... Do you seriously trust him?"

A scoff immediately left Sang-Cheol. "Of course not." Shaking his head in disappointment, Sang-Cheol addressed Olivine's worries. "I said I'll show him around the lab. I never said I would show him what was inside the lab." In Sang-Cheol's head, those two were entirely separate things. Certain secrets and promises must be kept from the world. As his professor's protege, he would ensure that much. "Henceforth, whenever Damien visits, move all the contents from the 3rd floor to the 6th floor. Tell that to Aristotle and Timothy. Understood?" Believing the conversation over, Sang-Cheol moved on.

However...

"I still have doubts. Damien could still leak the information. Just because it was a promise, it doesn't mean." A shot look from Sang-Cheol immediately silenced the shapeshifter. Any initial thought in his head was immediately eliminated, and his facial expressions disappeared.

"Then are you doubting me by that line of reasoning?" Immediately greeting the collar of his worker, he smashed him against the wall. "Your only purpose is to follow your orders. Anything else is secondary to none, understand." With that, he let go of his doppelganger, which sank after getting slammed against the wall. "After all, that is why you were created." With that, Sang-Cheol left Olivine and headed toward the lower floor. After that little upstart, he needed to take his mind off and return to work.

 
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Isobel Pham
SCENE:
Cookies & Cream
LOCATION:
Pre Arc-1: September 30th, 2008
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Isobel
Cookies and Cream
Isobel was late. She really had no good excuse. Well, maybe getting cornered in the restroom by bullies was arguably a good excuse but it wasn't something new. She was normally quite good at staying out of their way but sometimes it came down to the toss of a coin and today just so happened to not be her lucky day. She hadn't noticed the girls follow her into the restroom and was quite confused when she found the door of her stall jammed from the outside only to hear moments later muffled snickering and fleeting footsteps. After fifteen minutes of trying to get someone's attention by knocking on the door, she eventually gave up and squeezed herself under the partition to the next stall over.

Seeing a familiar figure parked on their bench tucked away in a corner far from the crowds, Isobel excitedly picked up her pace, her backpack bouncing behind her. However, as she got closer, she suddenly stopped in her tracks as she picked up the sounds of sniffling coming from the dark-haired boy seated there with his face buried in his arms. Walking up, she reached out and gently tapped Sang-Cheol twice on the shoulder with two fingers. Her sign name for him whenever she needed to get his attention.

Taking his hand, she traced in his palm 'OK?'

Lucem Lucem 🏓

 
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MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Ballin'
LOCATION:
Pre-Arc 3: March 29th, 2022 -- Evening
LOCATION:
South District... Old basketball court in the middle of nowhere...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Milo, Roza, Rin, Yong-Yut, Hector, Ashley, Libla
BALLIN'
"Beginner's luck," Milo smiled sheepishly at Ashley's comment, absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his neck, though he found himself wondering after the nickname his senior Phoenix had chosen for him. ... Lolo..?

But with that, it seemed like introductions were finally at an end.

Milo was nervous. Why was he nervous? He'd signed up for this. Nobody had twisted his arm and made him come play, today.

And it was supposed to be for fun... Right? But now Hector was here, and with Boltius as the new Ace, that meant two out of the four Phoenix leaders were in attendance. That fact alone invited all manner of ugly thoughts to press their way into Milo's mind. Should he—

Bolt flirted with Rin and Milo settled down, secure in the knowledge that he'd been right about at least one thing today.

Then a blast of wintery cold hit him in the face. He supposed that meant that they'd started. Milo, rather than take off toward the open ball, sat cross-legged on the paved court and fished out his sketch-pad that he'd tucked into his waistband. He twirled a pen expertly between his index finger and thumb before he got to work.

There was a sudden crash, followed by an exclamation of sorts. Milo's head popped up. He glanced at the hubbub beneath the net. It seemed like his fellow Rookies Roza and Rin had managed to score a basket. He smiled as the tall girl traded a flirt back at Bolt before he remembered what it was he was doing and buried himself again in his work, even as he heard Boltius raise his voice in that way he did whenever he was getting fired up. It made Milo smile in spite of himself as he worked, penning quick, confident strokes across the parchment.

With one final flourish, Milo tore the page out from this sketch-book and pocketed his pen. Ready to get started, he turned toward the others and held up the sheet of paper, drawn-side out. He smiled and said, a bit apprehensively, "I hope this is allowed..!"

In the very next moment, the drawn creations melted off of the page, dripping like wax onto the pavement before they materialized in their true shape. In but the span of a few moments, where once there was naught but a boy holding a sheet of parchment, there now stood a squad of five vaguely-human shaped homunculi. Their bodies—sleek, rubbery, and allblack—were amorphous and doughy-looking, and their shapes were varied, ranging from tall and thin to short and round. Their faces were blank saucers of white set amid a head that was dark as the rest of them. Eyeless, mouthless.

They wobbled on new legs for but a moment before springing, fanning out in seemingly-practiced unison, toward the ball down the other end of the court.


 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
Cookies and Cream
LOCATION:
North District, School
TIME:
Pre Arc-1 | September 30th 2008
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Isobel
Cookies and Cream

Two soft taps on his shoulder made the sobbing stop. It was a familiar gesture that Sang-Cheol recognized immediately. Slowly raising his teary-eyed face from the soothing darkness of his arms, he saw Isobel right next to him. Like a deer in headlights, he froze. Isobel took his hand and drew on it to snap him out. "O-O-O-Oof course, I'm okay. W-why wouldn't I be?" Sang-Cheol stuttered quickly. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Wiping his eyes with his remaining free arm, he shyly looked at Isobel.

"I-uh-I-um-I..." There were multiple words that Sang-Cheol wanted to say to Isobel. 'Why were you late?' 'Where were you?' 'Did I do anything wrong?' So many questions, but an urgent reminder came into his head. "Shut it, Sang-Cheol. Grow a pair and leave me alone." Hyung always told him that he was clingy and, more often than not, left him. The reminder alone made him shut his mouth. Instead, he said something different. "Are you okay?" A soft murmur went his lips. Isobel usually wasn't so late to their meet-ups. They would always get something from the cafeteria a few minutes before at this place.

It was probably the bullies again. A sad look was on Sang-Cheol's face as he looked down at Isobel's hand. Why did they have to bully people like them? It wasn't like they did anything wrong. He remembered that he was left suspended over the school's roof by them one time, and they only got a slap on the wrist for it.

A rumble escaped his stomach, and his face turned even redder. "U-Um, sorry. You're probably hungry as well. W-w-we should probably talk when we're in line." With Isobel's hand still grasping his, he got up from his seat. "W-what do you think we have today?" Sang-Cheol looked back at Isobel as they walked towards the line. The lunch was free for the two of them thanks to the school programs, but it was more often than not reheated frozen foods.

 
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HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Lost on Bourbon
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, 1AM, June 5th 2021
LOCATION:
???
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Boltius Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
LOST ON BOURBON

“You better figure it out or I’ll come over and I’ll fuckin’… I’ll fuckin’ figure it out for you. All you do is get hot an’ shit how can you not do it?”

Failing to connect his own difficulties to Bolt’s, Hector continued to squirm, continuing to look at Boltius.

“You ain’t got a chance,” he spoke, still slurring, and panting from the exertion of the struggle. It felt more like a competition now, himself versus Boltius. The most pathetic competition of all time, like two flies writhing in a web.

“What’s like what? Think this is a Serpent thing?” He punched the ground in frustration as the door opened.

He glared up at the visitors, he had almost forgotten that they weren’t alone here and bared his teeth like a wild animal. An attempt to swing at one failed due to the shackles holding him down, falling as soon as he tried to follow it with a weak lunge.

Pain surged through his arm as the stun baton struck, striking his leg soon after, causing it to buckle and forcing his collapse. He bit at a hand that neared his face, drawing some blood but becoming quickly overpowered by more hands…

-

Hector’s eyes remained closed under the blindfold, he knew he was somewhere new but things had blurred yet again, and only now was he returning to the present. His legs shook and he could feel the sweat dampening his body.

As the nauseatingly loud voice spoke out, Hector tried to tune it out, trying once more to free himself from the situation. At the sound of his name though, he peered up like a deer in headlights, before the thrashing at his chains continued with a chain of quietly mumbled expletives.

“BOLT?” Between his swearing came an involuntary call out to his friend as his name was also mentioned, violently jerking his head to the source of the man’s protests

“I’M GONNA GET YOU OUTTA HERE.”

Their rivalrous exchange earlier was forgotten. No one was gonna push them around and get away with it, though he still could not do anything.

“Now now gentlemen! There’s no need for all that~”

The lady waltzed across the stage, beaming a wide smile as she continued to point out the display that stood before the crowd.

“So what do you think? Two fine catches on offer tonight. How about we start with a modest $10,000?”

Not a soul among the crowd responded, some in their own conversations, and others staring at the struggling men through their masks. A few coughs rang out as the lady bit her lip.

“Haha!” Her wide smile was back, “I understand, they might be big talkers-” she wandered back over to Boltius, keeping her distance from the guards keeping him in check, “-but talk can only go so far!”

She waited for a moment as the crowd quietened down, many knew what was coming. From the dark ceiling descended a metal cage, and hordes of guards began to manoeuvre the captives away from it in a way that was clearly practised time and time again, everyone apart from Hector, Boltius, and 2 other men who were both shaking like leaves in a hurricane. They remained inside the cage as it fell upon them. Shackles had been removed and reinstated as the others changed positions, but once the shackles around the captives in the cage were unlocked, they were left alone, the guards quickly filing out through the cage door before the men’s delayed reaction times set in.

Standing in front of the cage, which was now tethered to the ground with its door locked, the lady addressed the crowd again.

“So how about we see them in action, with two of our other fine offerings? We hear they’re pretty good fighters, and I’m sure you’ll agree when you see ‘em!”

The crowd erupted, eager to see blood spilt.

Feeling the shackles slip from his limbs, Hector immediately clawed at his face, feeling for the blindfold that he tore off. Squinting at the bright lights, he took a few shaky steps around the cage, eventually hitting and leaning on the bars which remained firmly in place

“Fuck’re you on about?” His query went ignored by the hostess.
 
TIGER & DEVIL
SCENE:
Catch a Tiger by the Tail
TIME:
Past Midnight, October 9, 2021 | Between Arc 2 and Arc 3
LOCATION:
Markus' Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Markus, August​
CATCH A TIGER BY THE TAIL
August could see the civilian crowd at the base of the apartment tower as he plummeted 50-feet from the rooftop of a building nearby. The speed at which he descended slowed when a cone of wind formed beneath him, then his landing was cushioned with a final, decisive burst that expanded out from under him before he rocketed forward and carried himself as fast as he could to the tower.

Teal eyes going up, he saw the cyclone—that power—and something inside him went rigid, frozen. His breath hitched in his throat and he faltered, nearly tripping, and he halted, stopping to catch his breath.

Buckling forward, his hands met his knees and his chest heaved.

Everything he had suspected after reading his father’s message… It was reality. He’d gone to take out Markus. He’d done exactly what August had asked him not to do!

Killing Markus wouldn’t solve his problems! Not like this!

Teeth grit, followed by a scoff, August proceeded, driven by a determination unlike that of the pursuit for a new collectible. If he could get there in time enough to calm his father down—he knew better—maybe try to reason with Markus—he knew better—then maybe this would all blow over!

He knew better.

A wind-augmented leap took the Rookie up and over the crowd of nosey nobodies—barrel rolling upon landing—and, finally, August was entering the apartment tower, where he took to the stairs and propelled himself up the center of the well, ricocheting off the railings until he reached the top and met ruin. The missing roof, the walls in shambles, the pitch black sky and encompassing winds that sent his hair aflutter.

But he didn’t stop. He ran—hard for breath, desperate to take a break—and when he reached the front door of Markus’ penthouse, he practically fell to a stop, holding firm to the wooden frame lest his legs give way to exhaustion.

“BOSS!” Eldwin rushed for Markus but was not faster than Josiah, who, enveloped entirely in a bubbly red aura now, tackled the Tiger King with force enough to send the two tumbling several feet; pity to anything in their path. He was ripped away from Augustus, whose knees hit the floor, but body did not. Instead, he was supported by a pair of arms that went up and under his own to lower him with ease—Eldwin. “SHIT! GUS!”

August, appearing indifferent to the sight, panted where he stood, hardly able to straighten himself.

He watched as Eldwin frantically fixed his father into a comfortable position, then, also, as the knife was pulled, slick, from his throat and tossed aside with such emotion and revulsion that it spun across the floor before lodging under some debris.

Eldwin’s face twisted. “Gus- Boss, can you speak!?” But there was no response. Augustus was stiff in his arms, enduring the pain as he choked on his own blood and met eyes with his son.

How embarrassing—is all he felt—that his boy should see him like this.

Was he dying?... That was quick.

If Augustus could have laughed, he would have.

August did not blink.

His father waved, untroubled despite the searing pain… That’s when Eldwin noticed the figure in the doorway and, to recognize him, was promptly overtaken with guilt and shame, and he immediately averted his gaze.

Finally, August moved, tripping forward into a hesitant shuffle, and his head tilted. The look on his face, bewildered—almost as if he couldn’t piece together what was happening… But he knew what was happening.

Perhaps, he’d played dumb for so long now, for the sake of fooling others, that he thought he could even fool himself.

“Dad.”

Eldwin flinched at August’s voice, but Augustus said nothing, choking. Lungs filled with blood, a sickly red that dyed his clothes over.

“The knife…” Eldwin muttered in a shaky voice. “Fuck- It’s my fault.”

August, kneeling, looked at Eldwin then back at his father, then Eldwin stood to his feet and moved away to give the two of them some space, standing guard.

The feeling spreading throughout his chest, at this point, was one that August did not understand, nor did he know how to express it. A blend of anger, confusion, and mind-numbing anguish that he could only shake his head as his father’s hand came up to ruffle his hair, leaving streaks of blood behind.

Old man doesn’t look too well, does ‘e?

Augustus probably had a few questions himself. A few regrets. Most of all, a few things to say; though, could not… And perhaps he was frustrated—his breathing crackled and popped in fleeting intervals of tiny, shuddering gasps—but, as it had always been, nothing else mattered when his boy was around.

August’s lips parted to speak, quickly shutting.

What do you say? What expression do you show?

Then he found it. With trembling hands, he grabbed at his father and pulled at him, “Dad. Get up, we’ve gotta go.” He recalled the guy that had healed him on the night of Mach Sling’s destruction.

No response.

Augustus’ was gone.

“Ah know someone that can help!... Dad!”

Eldwin grimaced.


Josiah tackled Markus through one wall, then another, then another. By the time he eventually slammed the Tiger King into the ground, they were, both of them, caked in concrete dust and flecks of disintegrating paint.

”YOU BASTARD!!! Blow after blow rained down on him. It took all of Markus’ wherewithal to keep his guard up. There was nary an opening for him to counter… Not that it would’ve done much good. This man’s Potential was clearly of a class of strength that outpaced his own body’s limits. And without his ice…

I’LL KILL YOU! Markus’ vision was beginning to blur. One blow slipped between his forearms and checked him across the cheek.

Then another.

Then another.

He thought he might pass out any second now. He was hanging onto his consciousness by a thread. And all the while an enraged mountain of a man was hard at work rearranging his face.

What a shitty way to go. Taken out in his own home by a bunch of men he’d never even seen before. In his underwear, no less. Of all the ways he’d pictured his end, Markus had never anticipated it happening quite like this.

As his sight darkened, his mind showed him the faces of the people he’d miss most.

I’m sorry… Ma.


Hoisting the Tiger King up off the ground, Josiah bounced Markus’ head off of his knee before throwing him headlong through a hole in a wall that led back into the commons area, where he rolled to a stop on the floor. August was there.

By some miracle, Markus staggered half-way to his feet.

Josiah approached, his face a ruin of rage and grief. Markus had killed his friend. He figured that Josiah’s was an appropriate reaction. He wondered if any of his friends would react that way when he died. If he died. Would he burn down the world if one of his close companions were to kick the bucket?

Probably not.

Not anymore.

Over Josiah’s shoulder hovered the specter of the Heavenly Tiger. It watched him silently, the quietest it’d been since it had come to him. Markus got the sense that it was waiting for him. To prove something. To prove himself. Are you worthy?

Fuck you.

Josiah’s raised fist was falling, now. It was glowing amber-red. If that landed it’d be lights out. Game over.

Fuck you. I ain’t gotta prove shit ta’ you.

When he felt it come back, it was like a hurricane. A blizzard.

Cold. The absence of heat. It chilled the very blood in his veins. It sharpened his focus to a razor’s edge. Markus reached out and caught Josiah’s fist in his palm.

The surprise on the man’s face gave way to pain as his fist froze under Markus’ grip. The creeping ice engulfed his arm up to his shoulder before he could pull away. Markus squeezed his hand, and Josiah’s arm shattered like glass. Wrenching back, Josiah staggered and, as if sensing the turning tide, shouted for his compatriots to flee.

This reminder of August’s presence gave Markus pause. He turned to look over his shoulder at the white-haired Tiger, wondering what he would do.

Cold. August’s spine chilled when the Tiger King’s eyes locked with his own, and his face sagged with dread at the sight of Josiah.

Why?

Flashes of the past leading up to this moment overcame him then, and, for the first time, he was struck with gnawing regret. How could he have avoided this? What could he have done differently?... dwellings that August had, all his life, swept under the rug as easily as: “It is wot it is~” Always accepting whatever came—taking things for what they were. Never damning the consequences.

But this… No, he didn’t want to accept this. Not this.

Damn this!

All of the sudden, a wave of raw hate—when the bottle could hold no more—accompanied by rage that he didn’t know what to do with rushed through him in the form of adrenaline, and it brought him to his feet before he even felt Eldwin’s hand on his shoulder, tugging him back.

Josiah yelled again, “I said go!”

But his words… his voice… They were lost on August, and August snarled at Markus, “When’s enough enough!?” he screamed, wind swirling around his feet, kicking up dust. “Just give in, yeh!? YE CAUSE NOTHIN’ BUT FOCKIN’ PAIN, YA GODDAMN MONSTAH!” Tears streaked his cheeks now, spit building at the corners of his mouth. Unrealizingly, he fought against Eldwin’s attempts to restrain him, inching ever closer to the Tiger King as he could.

“August!”

He jerked free and took a progressive step toward Markus. “AIN’T A GODDAMN THING YOU’VE ACCOMPLISHED BEEN AT THE EXPENSE OF YA OWN BLOOD AN’ SWEAT, YA FOCKIN’ TYRANT!” Empty words spilled purely out of emotion. “GO AN’ DIE! JUST-... FFF- Shit!” His voice cracked, shook with despair. “FOCKIN’ DIE ALREADY-”

“ELDWIN GET HIM OUT OF HERE!”

“TAKE A LOOK IN THA BLOODY MIRRAH, YA SHIT, AN’ I MEAN REAAAALLY LOOK!”

Eldwin’s arms wrapped around August’s torso from behind, but an abrupt and unintentional blast of wind blew them off, causing Eldwin to stagger back before he immediately tried again, this time hoisting August slightly. In spite of it, August never tore his eyes away from Markus.

He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point. There were no thoughts. None of it made sense.

“DO YA EVER STOP AN’ FOCKIN’ THINK WHY PEOPLE WANTCHA DEAD SO DAMN BAD, HUH!?- WHY YA CAN’T TRUST ANYONE, HAH!?- CAUSE YA BLOODY HURT PEOPLE!... YOU TAKE AN’ YA TAKE! NEVER FOCKIN’ SATISFIED! ANY WHO DOES LOVE YA DOESN’T FOCKIN’ REALLY! YOU’RE A BLOODY GODDAMN FOCKIN’ STEPPIN-STONE!”

But one thing he did realize… was that he’s a hypocrite. Not just by the words he was saying, but by the fact that he was saying anything to begin with. Any other time, under any other circumstances, August would have shrugged and thought this is merely natural selection; the inevitable outcome of pure will, mans’ decisions. And that you can’t argue with consequence.

“I’LL KILL YA!... GO FUCK YASELF!- I’M GONNA FOCKIN’ KILL YA-” August sobbed, “So, I take it back!- Don’t die, yeh?! Don’tchu fockin’ die, yeh?!” He fought back against Eldwin one last time before there came a shocking thump… then his vision blurred… and everything was black.

The last image he could make out was that of Josiah rushing the Tiger King once more.


...

Markus woke up. He hadn't realized he'd lost consciousness.

"... Fuck."

He winced, his eyes adjusting slowly to the flickering gloom of his demolished penthouse.

The Tiger King was leaned up against the cool, bare wall of the kitchen—what was left of it, anyway. His hand was clutched to his side, his fingers counting the broken ribs one by one.

Beside him lay a pile of shattered, slowly-thawing ice that had once been a man. The body of the other lay a stone's throw away. He had to get up, had to get out of here. Or else he'd be joining these fine gentlemen soon. Just another corpse.

He struggled, straining to get his legs under him. He was almost there, using the wall as a counter-balance to push himself up. If he could only stand, make his way out to the hall...

Just then, he clocked movement out of the corner of his eye. His gaze focused in one the open door-way, and the figure that stood there. Rising to his full height, even as he kept a hand covering the purpling wound that blossomed over his exposed flank, Markus glowered at the intruder. "... Took ya' long enough." He hissed, the words igniting a fresh waved fire in his chest.

In his eyes burned a cold-blooded fury. He knew how he looked right now to the woman who stood in his door. He wondered, if like the hounds she commanded, she too could smell blood on the air. If she thought to make an easy mark of him, she'd find out soon enough that a cornered tiger still had claws.

"You here ta' take 'yer shot? Just don't miss."


 
Pascal Corbin
SCENE:
Gangs' Grocery Games
LOCATION:
Upper Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Pascal, Laurent, Chikage, Silva
Gangs' Grocery Games

The blond's face lit up when he saw his friend approach. He beamed just as widely as he did when they were kids. After hearing the other's words, he gave an apologetic look, though the smile still remained.

"I really appreciate you coming," he said. It honestly came as a surprise when Chikage agreed, but Pascal was happy nonetheless. "I know crowds aren't the best for you, but it'd been quite awhile since we saw each other last, and I wasn't sure when our schedules would line up next, so-"

"Hey!" the blond turned to look at a middle-aged man who had approached. His face was red and his eyes stared daggers into Pascal. "You're the bastard who stole my wife's vitamins!" Pascal blinked his blue eyes with a confused expression before his gaze shifted to a woman standing next to the man. Her hair was as fiery as the man's attitude as well as just as unruly. Recognization set in for Pascal.

"What...?! But you were on the other side of the aisle-"

"Save it, dickwad!" the man said, stepping closer. "How dare you steal from a lady?!"

"I didn't-"

"You're so selfish! I'm a full-time mom! You don't understand how hard it is to be one! I work so hard, and I need those vitamins for my health! Isn't that right, sweetie?" Both Pascal and the woman noticed the empty space next to her and the teenage boy trying to sneak away with his face hidden in embarrassment. The woman swiftly grasped the boy's hand and tugged him back to her side. His face started to become as red as his father's.

"Look, the store said on their site that they'll have extra stock they'll be bringing out thoughout the day. I'm sure if it isn't restocked already, it'll be..." He trailed off, realizing that the couple's eyes had departed from him and were now fixated on Chikage. The man and woman glanced at each other before the man stepped closer to Chikage.

"Oh, so that's why he's able to get away with it! He's all buddy-buddy with the fuzz!"

Pascal let out a slightly panicked laugh, trying to step in between the two. "It's really not-" The man pushed him aside. His touch sent a jolt of electricity into him, his body phasing in and out of liquid form as the current coursed through him as he seemingly went flying towards the cart. Some of the nearby cans and other metallic objects momentarily flew towards him, though thankfully stopping and falling just short of collision. The blond sat dazed against the now-toppled cart, letting out a small, pained groan as the man continued.

"Why ain't I surprised? I bet all of youse good fer nothin' cops have shady connections, and not just to common thieves, but to them gangs as well! It would really explain why nothin' gets done 'round here. Then again, maybe youse're just completely incompetent! The way youse handled things when we called sure shows it!"

"Oh, yes... our poor Billy is being brainwashed and negatively influenced by delinquents! Even when they were in our neighborhood, just in front of our house committing crimes and making a ruckus, you still didn't do anything! Shame on you!" Meanwhile, the couple's son, presumably Billy, looked as if he wanted to simply disappear.

"Youse's motto's protect an' serve, but it's fer the community, not youselves and yer own interests!"

Interactions: Chikage ( Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean )
 
CHARMY DEVLIN
SCENE:
[The Punchline]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, February 12th, 2016
LOCATION:
The Precipice, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park, Charmy Devlin
THE PUNCHLINE
Laughter—careening and unconstrained.

The sound should have been swallowed by the enormity that was the space’s thunderous blaring. But the avarice-rich voices that enveloped the pair only accented the woman’s delight. In opposition to her expensive looking attire, it was a wholly innocent reverberation. A beaming smile, and the cartoonish posture of her raised hand. All contrasted by the down-cast gaze of the tailing security.

She took the extended hand.

“I think you’ve found your grit just a touch too soon.” She waved over the armed man. “Lino, inform the current host of our new arrangements. That ‘acidic menace’ is going to try their luck at one such ‘mysterious underdog.’” An afterthought interrupted her self-satisfied grin. “Oh, and double the winnings. I think this next fight will prove ever so engrossing.”

A sentence or two into the man’s transceiver later, and the club’s entire atmosphere fell.

“Looks like we’ve got a new schedule on the horizon—A DOUBLE OR NOTHING ROUND BETWEEN THE SOUR SOLUTION THAT IS ’DRIP’ AND THE AMBITIOUS UPSTART, ‘MYSTERIA’!” Murmurs prefaced an eruption of primal adrenaline. “You all know the drill by now. The last round of the night is a NO HOLDS-BARRED FIGHT! THE MATCH'S END MARKS THE END FOR ONE OF OUR FEARLESS COMBATANTS. PAY YOUR RESPECTS AND PAY YOUR BETS. THE STAKES ARE HIGH FOR FIGHTER AND PATRONS ALIKE!”

The eyes in the hall zoned into the approaching individuals. Colors of greed. Colors of violence. Colors of… hope? There was nothing suffocating about the pressure. Everyone present may as well have been awaiting an execution, but there wasn’t a single drop of malice. It was sickeningly frivolous, and self-indulgent. Pure, unfiltered desires that didn’t dare seep through the cracks of society.

“The deal is sealed, and the stage is set.” There was no laughter. “Show me something worth four digits.”
NAVIGATE
 
Last edited:
Roza Grigorievna
SCENE:
Phoenixes Pre-Arc 3: The Enduring Hurrah
LOCATION:
Red West Bar, a Phoenix hub in the South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Hide, Charlie, Corvo, Milo, Rin, Boltius, Ashley,
Gideon, Dimitri, Hector, Roza, Ryoma
The Enduring Hurrah

Evening of May 27th, 2022

It was not much longer that a middle-aged looking man showed up with a little girl in tow, was she his daughter? They didn't favor one another all that much, curious. Though nothing she should ask about in the here and now. He was dressed in what she would think of as tourist wear and judging by the rest of his kit, he was one of the cooks. And he brought a bit of what he was cooking, seemingly for the dog, as the little girl tried to play with and pet the more massive animal, the man performs some sort of trick. The words Rin said prior out of mind for a brief instant.

Though by now it was far too late to reply anyways. Though, as long as she wasn't being shy was what she said. Was she shy? Thinking on for that a bit, the answer was no. She just didn't care to expend more energy that necessary for a given interaction. Plus getting close to everyone was just insuring you got hurt in work like this. She didn't mind the Phoenix Gang, while it was to save her life, the prospect of having a dependable squad, family, whatever you wished to call it had an appeal to her. But she would always be the calmer and more rational among them.

Rin for her part seemed to be a passionate person. How would she take it if Charlie were seriously injured, or that woman if her dog was shot and left to limp? While bullets were no danger to her a variety of other traps and ambushes, could be. A Pheonix may rise from the ashes, but the problem with that was it needed to get burned first. Still, they all seemed alright enough. Following Rin's lead, Roza however keeps her distance from the dog as she introduced herself to the other two. "Roza is what most call me, codename Red Rabbit, or just Rabbit. A pleasure." The last bit seemed a bit forced but was polite enough.



joshuadim joshuadim Elenion Aura Elenion Aura WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart The Prophet The Prophet Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
Interactions
EmperorsChosen EmperorsChosen (Rin) Roda the Red Roda the Red (Charlie) AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa (Corvo) Stros Stros (Ryoma)
 
Last edited:
SCENE:
One, Two, Three, Four, I Declare a Nerf War
LOCATION:
A Park, Lower Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Gideon, Kiwi, Jesper, Minato, Jozef, Dagger, Bolt, Pascal, Maria, Jennifer
One, Two, Three, Four, I Declare a Nerf War

She was hunched in on herself as she spoke almost longingly about it, a lazy smile. Looking like it would stretch all the way up and reach her gloomy eyes. Drew a scoff at her, flashing whites as his lips curled to a snarl, Dante turned away to look at the blossoms. A heavy, earthen smell caught him, there he realized, looking up at the bastard sun's gaze breaking through the clouds above — "I fucking hate spring..."

He sucked in his breath, teeth gritting hard, winced at the sheen that flashed from the clouds into his eyes. He hid away from its rays, lowering and shuffling in his seat, the hood of his car groaning. Breath out. She laughed it off and pulled his hoodie in, kept going on about whatever the hell she was going on about— not that he was listening in anyway.

It was a terrible, horrible morning. To him at least, most mornings were.

The sound of faint laughter and bickering filled the crowd, over-bearing, high-pitched in some parts when the children got mixed in the clamor, all of it crashed hard against his ears with a faraway ringing.

Airy, warm, loud. God was it awful —

He’d feel the sun warm on his neck, breathing heat down his collar. He’d hear the cheery voices breaking the silence and smell the fresh growth of newborn flowers somewhere out there. He’d feel small, vulnerable, life-sized. Wanting to hide away in the shadow, away from the lidless, blinding stare of the fire giant above.

Yet he couldn’t— Rather, he would deliberately choose not to. Dante knew that allergy to the light was but a consequence of letting the wolves off on someone, he’d have to bear with it until it passed. It was like coming down from a nasty cold, he’d feel it running across his skin, prickling all the way up to the neck, a strangling cold. You’d have the bastards whispering into your ear, have you day-dreaming about sweet, glorious requiem and expecting the sight of the moon. A couple hours later, in dimmer light, the voices would go away, that frostbite stretching across his skin would simmer down.

Last night, even if it was a small hit on some no-names, had left him tripping balls this morning. Thankfully he already gave up all hope of having a normal waking moment, just him and the morning light creeping through the curtains. Lately, ever since he joined the Tigers, the hallucinations, the night terrors, had gotten all the more frequent.

He knew what to expect when he opened his eyes. It was never a pretty sight.

“Hey. You good there? You’ve been staring off into space for a while now. 'That boring for ya?”— It took him a moment to snap away from his thoughts, drift into the new focus and stick to it.

Nina stared blankly at his struggle, noted how the shadows under his eyes seemed to almost grow larger. A beat later, she picked a strand of stray hair from him, wrapped black hair around one hand and tugged hard— “Ow! Fuck off! No, it’s—I…I’m fine, I’m fine. Just… The sun’s too… bright.”

“Great observation.”— Dante rubbed his eyes with a tire building up, pushing her off the car with his free arm. She sat crosswise on it, rookie mistake. No balance, easy kill — “So… You were saying?”

“Now you’re gonna listen, huh?” — He looked down at her smug face with resigned airs, she hopped her way back up on the hood of the car.

“I’ll think about it.”

“So, as I was saying—“ — Nina was, again, talking romantic about some dude she’d met up in central. Same dude that was supposed to be here instead of her older brother. He hung on the words sheepishly, nodding and letting out a “Hmn.” or two every now and then, her whole spiel jumbled together into pure nonsense to him.

He got the gist of it for the most part.

All Romeos were indeed, dead— "He ditched you, is what I'm getting.”— Dante presented his hypothesis, getting an immediate kneejerk, visceral reaction from her as she straightened up and banged him on the side of the head.

“No, he did not. He was busy. Ehh…Work or something…” — She met his gaze for a brief instance, Dante raised an eyebrow at her. Something swelling up inside, made her eyes wander around the room aimlessly. That was usually an easy tell for him — “Alright, listen here. Not everyone lives in this fantasy world of yours where everyone’s an asshole, ‘kay? He…He’s a nice guy, y’know?”

“Right. And you met him for like…what? Thirty, forty-something minutes?”

“Man, you’re annoying…”

“Yeah.” — He reached back to grab a piece of cardboard that’d been taking up sun atop the roof of the car, loudly labeled ‘Big Caesars.’ Bold, underlined, yellow font, times new roman— “God have mercy…” — He shook his head. Awful.

Dante had pigged out the night before, partly in a crazed panic attack after the absence of dark settled in, and partly because he knew damn well he didn’t want to be there for picnic. Lo’ and behold, a void for a stomach is what he was met with this morning— "When’s this thing starting anyway?”

“Should be going off soon…ish. Official’s still spea—” — She did not get to mutter the last of that sentence before all hell broke loose. He’d been expecting it ever since they arrived at the scene, more or less.

It created sort of a powder keg, all that built-up tension huddled up in the same place. All those HPs in the same place. You just had to wait around and see who’s fuse. The more problematic of the few would colonize the booth soon enough, put up a show.

From there, the cup runeth over.

He sort of harrumphed when the crowd had finally gone wild, muttering something under his breath, moving away from a handful of stray foam darts that reached the windshield of his car. Nina on the other hand had a rather peculiar technique for dodging bullets, she took three shots to the chest and fell dramatically onto the pavement.

Dante ducked under a couple more bullets and made his way toward Nina, who lay there clutching at her heart with a bewildered, mad look on her face. Like she’d been shot for real. His eyes drifted from the red-blue stains on her shirt and awkwardly over to her — “Where those three shots?!”

“Four, actually.” — Dante pulled out his nerf blaster and landed one square between her eyebrows, a thin line of paint going down her nose bridge as she squirmed on the ground.

“MAAAAAAN!! FU-” — Her arms started flailing around as she rolled back and forth in a fit of unadulterated, womanchild rage; spewing a string of every curse word she knew.

“Five.”— He shot her again, right shoulder this time around — “Ey, dead people don’t scream. Stop bitching about it you’re gonna give away my position.” — He loaded the replacement of those two friendly fires he’d just wasted on Nina, reached out to the roof of the muscle car, took another bite of the pizza.

Awful, still.

“Aghh!... Fine! Just win this thing for me. That’s why I brought you here anyways…”— A hand went to wipe the paint off her face, Nina sat crosswise again, back pressed to the car.

Dante drew a sigh — “I’ll think about it.”

With that, he sauntered into the shadows— snuck around the raging shootout, avoided easy lines of sight until he reached a good, shady corner where he could calmly watch the mess unravel. He was still a thief at heart, after all. Even after years, it was still engraved into him, he hadn’t lost the charm whatsoever. That had— partly— been the thing that’d kept him alive throughout the suicide missions the gang would sick him out to.

Nina Aurora D'Angelo Aguilar


IMG_0518.jpg



Interactions: N/A (Open)
 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Swords and Snakes
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, Night, January 23, 2020
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Rutheless First Rose First Rose
SWORDS AND SNAKES

Leaning back with his body stretched out, Hector let Rutheless approach him with a manic grin. He knew what she liked, violence was the universal language of New Oasis after all and it was far easier to quench her bloodthirst with the prospect of a manhunt than let him be in her sight when his attempts to appease ran out of luck.

The sensation of the delicate touch of her claws sent a chill down his spine — Oh how it had been too long since they spent some quality time together — and he lifted his own far less elegant hand to meet hers before it was taken away.

“You got it.”

Hector watched her leave before rising from his seat, turning around to meet the gaze of each patron clearly intimidated by the Serpent. They looked back, some clearly unimpressed with him in comparison, others in disbelief that he survived the encounter, and others wishing to get back to their business without any trouble. With a sneer, he walked back to the bar, pushing past two customers and smacking a hand on the countertop.

“You again?” The bartender peered over the shoulders of the people in front of him, over to the table they had just vacated. “So ya made it out. What’ll it be then?”

“That big bottle of… Cîroc. She’ll like that.” He was unfamiliar with the brand, his taste for alcohol being indiscriminate between high-class and trash, but the bottle looked fancy. Ready to roll his eyes and tend to another customer, the bartender took on a more serious demeanour as he spoke the dreaded word. She. Meaning a woman. Meaning the woman. If she is still around then she must be kept at bay, and if a bottle of vodka would do that, then he’d be a fool to deny the request.

“Knock yourself out.” He took the bottle from the shelf, mostly full due to the North’s preference for the cheaper brands, and set it on the counter, where it was quickly snatched by Hector. The bartender contemplated a warning, but it wasn’t his place, and simply shook his head as the Phoenix left after Ruthe.

Now outside, an amused Hector watched the situation unfold between the petrified driver and their captor, before rushing to throw the driver out of the way. He was gonna call dibs on the driver's seat anyway. Handing the bottle to Ruthe with a wink, they set off.

“Fuck, I don’t know-” A bad way to start a sentence after promising a hunt, but he quickly continued, “-but if he had the guts to show up at my place, I’m sure he’d try and do something ballsy here too.” As if stealing Rutheless’s bike wasn’t ballsy enough.

With his eyes on the road, he blindly reached for a glass, downing half its contents followed by a disgusted cough as he quickly handed it back.
“What I’m thinking is… Where does a Serpent go to have fun ‘round here? Might be terrorising folks there like he was in South- Hey gimme it back.” Changing his mind about the disgust, he grabbed the glass back and soon the rest was gone. He continued to speak after a few more coughs.

“I gotta ask you though. How’d he end up with your bike? Didn’t think you’d let anyone take it.”
 

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