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Fantasy Headhunters IC

Sub Genres
  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. AU
  4. LGTBQ
  5. Magical
  6. Platonic
  7. Romance
  8. Super Powers
  9. Supernatural


The Lycanthrope agency sat square in the center of Timber, the largest city (and really- the only one big enough to be called such) in the Den of Wolves.
Really, it looked a bit depressing- with how empty it was compared to how much space the old wood building took up.

The shoddily painted " hiring " sign hung crooked on the front door- as though whoever created it didn't really want applications. The sadder reality of it was they were simply that sucky of a craftsman. Large clawed hands didn't work well with small canvases.

But regardless, it was Rumi Kmori's job to stand in the main hall and interview the shmucks that came in. Unfortunately.

" Hm, I see- and you want to work here because..? "
The demon had grown tiered of fiddling with her hair; and instead clicked the nib of her pen. In and out again.

" Well, ya' see- "

What followed was an entire, steaming and stinking pile of bullshit.
Now; as a demon who's power granted her strength over the dishonest in particular- she was quite the fan of fibbers, deal breakers, manipulators, and cunning conmen. Unfortunately for this one, their lies were not entertaining in the slightest. No originality! Not even a lick of theatrics! Just a dull waste of time.
Another monster that simply wanted a license to cross the rift.

All these sad little clumps of fingernail scum, thinking a dying Headhunter agency would be desperate enough for hires to take in any old sleaze bag. Once they had their license they would disappear into the next world- feasting on the fresh corpses of those poor, weak little humans.

Fortunately for those poor, weak, and apparently tasty little humans- Rumi could spot the lie before she saw the color of the other's eyes.

" Apologies' friend, but you're going to have to find a different, slightly dumber meal ticket," the final two words dripped like venom from her mouth as she spoke them. Veins of shadow wrapped around the lying ghoul's rotting limbs as they sputtered a defense, and with little grace they were thrown from the main hall's front door.

It really was getting tedious by now.

Rika needed to hurry up and close the applications before Rumi cashed in one of her favors to make the woman jump off a cliff.
Don't misunderstand- the Tamer would most certainly live, given her particular circumstance. But it would hurt like a bitch.


Stupid damn lancer slobs.
Lan scrubbed at a spot on one of the dining hall tables with a soap drenched brush. Scowl tugging at the corners of his mouth.
A red stain mocked him, refusing to lighten.
He could only pray the blood was from someone's meal, and not their body. His small nose scrunched at the thought.

The man had been here for about a week now- and had busied himself getting the damned place clean for once.
It wasn't like there was anything else to do. What missions were tacked to the board behind the desk were either too high level for a C rank ( the papers had collected a thin layer of dust until Lan brushed them off, what exactly happened to the other members; he was still not sure ) or too far to travel alone, considering the god damn lawlessness of the surface.

" Hey, hey new guy; do y' think angel and human taste the same?" The girl he recognized as the desk clerk asked sitting across from him. She was eating something Lan did not recognize.

" Why the fuck would you ask me that? "

" They would have to taste similar right? I always hear the dead talking about how good the humans they ate were, and angels are made of the same stuff aren't they? " Lan may have been more wary of the line of questioning, but there was no intent in her eyes. Nothing but a desire to have a conversation with herself with Lan as her witness.

It was still pretty fucking disturbing. Lan had been eating his own lunch before he had become distracted by the unsanitary state of the table- but his apatite was now long gone.

" Kid, go talk to someone else," he tried to sound dangerous- but he really couldn't threaten a teenager, it was just too messed up; regardless of how very, very annoying they were.

" Yeah, okay," and just like that, the girl stood and left, taking her food with her.

Yes, Lan had needed a job; but was this worth the disturbance? No. Probably not. Was he still stuck with it? Yes. Yes he was.


Llama hand
Two weeks. Two gods forsaken weeks locked in with no news for the ongoing mission other than "we're working on it."

Gray glared balefully out the window, following passersby with his gaze as if he could make himself one of them by sheer force of thought. His hands—no, paws, they were paws right now—curled up under him so he could fit comfortably on the sill. The wooden planks of the dining hall floor brushed against the tip of his tail, which hung down over the edge and flicked slowly from side to side with an uptilt at the end of every swing.

Even sitting in his feline form, his impatience showed in the bristling fur along his back. His claws itched to be digging into the soft dirt outside where he could be of some actual use—at this point, he'd happily take a D class mission just to be doing something meaningful, but no. He wasn't allowed so little as that without 'supervision'. If he didn't get out of here soon, he might bite that damn witch just to see if that'd get any information out of her.

(It wouldn't, and he wouldn't—he was rational enough to know that there was no way that'd end well—but the consideration lingered enough for him to wonder if she even could get hurt by something small as a cat bite.)

As seemed to be the pattern he'd built over these past weeks, his minor thought of rebellion snowballed into something larger. What would she do if he simply walked out the door?

Leaving. It rarely left his thoughts fully, and he'd mentally followed this path enough times to come to his usual conclusion in a matter of seconds. The collar would give him away and he'd be taken back in before he could properly accomplish anything. After that, the possibilities only got worse.

Outside, a toddler reached toward him with wide eyes. The glass between them did little to dim their screech of "Kitty!"

Right. That was enough brooding for the day. Gray turned and hopped lightly onto the floor just as the sound of a small hand thumping softly against the window met his ears.


indiscriminate sloth
There was little that could be said about the fire that broke out in Forth Hoston’s home yesterday. The culprit—however much he insisted he was just as much of a victim—was the only fire-wreaking catastrophe within a five mile radius. Caught by virtue of his sparking throat and puffs of smoke from his nose.

In his humble defense, Arcadius had gotten the job done. Forth had an awful cockroach infestation that hailed him over his budget and Arcadius graciously offered his services well below. Granted, the most experience he has when handling bugs is a damning stomp of his foot, and knowing he’d be dealing with more roaches than he had eyelashes, it opened the gates for his impulsivity and—oftentimes inconvenient—creativity.

That being said, the fire wasn’t that bad. A handful of scorched things, the smell of smoke might take ages to scrub from the couches, and there may be a permanent black stain on a few walls but nothing a heaping helping of paint can’t fix. Compared to Arcadius' other haphazardly reckless methods, the house had managed to stay a whole. Plus, the roaches were gone. At least most of them.

Sadly—or perhaps to everyone’s benefit—Arcadius was suspended from taking any more quests until he “learned the errors of his ways” or whatever. And as the day dragged for an eternity, he was starting to feel properly reformed.

He floats out the room, a vintage looking polaroid camera resting on his chest. His intentions laid in invading Lan’s room, but his ears twitched at the sound of incessant scrubbing from the dining hall. Ever the curious soul, Arcadius follows the sound to discover he had no need to pester the angel in his room.

With a Cheshire cat’s grin, the demon takes advantage of Lan’s lack of attention to anything other than the table and floats above him. Turning upside down in the air, Arcadius drops into Lan’s vision, snapping a picture of his face as prompt as the camera’s flash.

“What’s up, feathers?” He asks with a cocked brow, plucking the film from the camera. His body flips, back laying on air as he admires his photography. “Hm, the lighting could be a little better.” He contemplates with mock scrutiny as he rubs his chin. “Subject of the photo could be cuter also.” He purrs tauntingly, revealing the photo to Lan, although not in any way he could easily reach it. It’s a slightly blurred image of his scowling face.

Knight boi

Gregory stood in the middle of a cemetery, he had a bunch of coffee with him but in total had four, he was holding one as he was sitting down by the tombstone, he smiled at it as he picked one out for the tombstone and placed it to the grave.

“Just how you like, Jane, I remember you always loved this type of drink. Your mother always and continues to scold me for me coming here weekly and she’s like,’Oh you should move on Gregory she’s gone.’ But I just miss you is all. I should probably get going though, the agency has a bunch of new people signing up and need good old Gregory to help them.”

He said laughing as he stood up and grabbed the carrier that had a remaining of two drinks left. He looked at the tombstone and smiled dearly as he left the cemetery.

As he gotten to the chaotic agency he smiled innocently as a wave of people said hello to him. He was definitely very popular in the agency henceforth him being one of the only rank A’s in the agency and overall sort of like a father figure to the younger ones there.

“Oh well hello there Rumi! Don’t be to harsh on the people don’t wanna scare them to much!”

He chuckled and laughed to himself as he grabbed a cup of coffee and gave one to the girl.

“Here you go Rumi got you some coffee to help you! Should cool you down a little bit.”

He said happily people adored his kindness and overall positive vibes of the agency.
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Funai Ren
It was a sordid tale, beginning with a miracle, poisoned with betrayal, war, and ending in a painful heartbreak:

How Ren lost his previous job.

The short-tempered klepto had some issues concerning customer service, a naturally crass exterior working wonders in scaring off most employment opportunities. Getting a job was a hassle, but managing to keep it was another struggle entirely. Which is why landing a position at a bar was bewildering not only to him, but those he served; his victims, those unfortunate enough to have to interact with the demon. Dropping things loudly onto the tables, pulling out a notepad and demanding what they wanted. Hurrying the decision with a glare and impatient clicking of the pen. The epitome of friendliness. Good customer service. Funai Ren.

He got his regular warnings, bad to call meat-eaters ‘murderers’, bad to climb over tables instead of walking around, bad to hide somewhere and sleep his entire shift, yada yada. Boring. None of these tyrannical rules prepared the demon for the fatal treachery that awaited him. The foul betrayal he speaks of? Someone jutted their foot out when Ren was walking past with cups. Accidentally, they claimed.

So Ren accidentally headbutted them. The war was short and victorious.

And the heartbreak? Getting fired! How cruel! Ren would say he handled the loss with graceful poise and maturity.

But Ren is also a fucking liar.

You threaten to break legs, wear their skins as a winter coat or flay their backs with their own spines, and suddenly you’re a ‘bad person’ who is ‘banned from ever coming back’. Talk about dramatic. Getting wrestled out of the establishment and throwing rocks at the building was all in good fun, they were so sensitive. If Ren’s sad eyes at the window didn’t get him his job back, there was zero hope. And you know what? Good riddance! He didn’t even want to work there. No good napping spaces, and it’s much faster to climb things than walk around them. They clearly didn’t value time efficiency.

As much as the demon desired to sleep and do nothing in his unemployed state, the curse of existence came with unwanted responsibilities. Another job was needed, and as luck would have it, Lycanthrope agency had donned an ugly little hiring sign.

After crashing and burning his way through several interviews at other establishments, there was a level of desperation to get this one right. Ren wanted to make a good impression, and not often did he feel the need to appease others. He’d walked around the building a few times. Three, to be exact. While not up to anything malevolent, the demon was too preoccupied rehearsing an appropriate greeting to realise how strange it might appear. Every time he found himself nearing the door, he’d stop, panic, and procrastinate by continuing to walk another lap. Not weird at all.

“I am Ren.” Should he add a hobby to sound interesting? Human TV was quite good, but sharing his interest in cooking shows probably wasn’t going to win him a placement. “My name is Ren,” his nostrils flared, and the glow of his eyes brightened in frustration, “I won’t eat you.”

That seemed good. Friendly.

With a fluff of his hair (appearances are important) and gentle sway to the tapered tail, Ren finished lap four and decided he had mastered the skill of a verbal introduction. He was going to be nice. He was going to get a job. The agency will be amazed at his eloquently-spoken self. But upon finally entering the building, the demon turned so still that it was questionable if he was even breathing anymore. Perhaps he should have walked another lap, five felt lucky, but it was too late to turn around and leave unless he wanted to look weird. Mustering a look of indifference, he directed himself towards two individuals that appeared to be of importance. The one with the partially pink hair had a writing utensil, which to somebody as simple-minded as Ren, implied influence. The other was very pale, and had coffee.

The moment had finally arrived, all his training and rehearsal for a perfect introduction.

“I’m Ren,” success! “I do not headbutt people.”

Not the direction he planned, but it was already out in the open. Important information had been conveyed.

“Unless that gets me hired...” he added slowly, slitted eyes flicking back and forth between the two, as if trying to will them into sharing what they wanted from a perfect employee. “Then I do headbutt people.” Versatility. Talent. “Both of you must be impressed," Ren sighed with confident arrogance, before extending his hand out in demand.

"Give me a job,"
his fingers curled to make a give motion, "otherwise I'll start crying and you'll look like bad people."


It took a moment for him to process what exact flavor of pain had passed from the camera to his eyes. Not many moments, but a moment.
That moment created a slight lag between the time the camera flashed, and the moment when Lan's nose scrunched. Slightly stung eyes blinked, and he shook his head; as though the irritation would be flung off like water droplets on dog fur.

Oh it was him.
The bane of Lan' existance since had shown up at this rundown Hunter hall.
The orchestrator of irritation.
Invader of bedrooms.
Red bitch.

" What's up, feathers?"
Lan frowned (though he was already frowning before ) up at the other, distaste evident in the furrow of his brows.

" Feathers?" He repeated the name under his breath, as though he had forgotten what the word meant.

" Hm, the lighting could be a little better."
A short pause.
" Subject of the photo could be cuter also."

Lan swiped at the photo as he spoke, though it was just out of reach.

" First off; feathers? Really? What kind of nickname is that, it's longer than my actual name," the irritation clearly laced both his voice and face as he continued to grab for the paper. Still out of reach.

" Secondly; fuck your entire self, if you want cute photos try going outside and harassing some squirrels ya' empty headed prick- and give me that-"

Lan continued his sorry attempt to grab the offending photograph, cleaning duty newly forgotten, but only one of the boys could fly; and it was not the one with wings.


indiscriminate sloth
Arcadius snickers in the line of fire, swerving from the reach of Lan’s swiping hands. His fruitless efforts only goad the demon’s mischief, dangling the image just within reach before snatching it away as Lan’s hands strike. It sparks even louder laughter, Arcadius’ tail lolling from one side to another. Like that of a pompous cat who is perched on high ground.

“You don’t look that different from a squirrel, you know?" Arcadius tilts his head. Well…maybe a rabid one.” He snorts and slips the photo into his back pocket, not taking Lan for the type brave enough to reach. Then again, his knowledge of Lan left much to be desired. Such came with the nature of their bond, or lack thereof. Unfortunately for Lan, Arcadius was bestowed with a saint’s patience, and would most likely hound the other for as long as the hands of the clock permitted.

“Tell you what, Angel, let’s come to a compromise.” Arcadius snatches Lan’s hand while it’s in the air and then grabs the other, swirling around the room and dragging the other along with him in a sloppy half-waltz. “I’ll hand over your pretty little photo without any resistance, but first, you need to come on a mission with me.” His index finger lightly taps the tip of Lan’s nose as if to punctuate his deal. Solo missions he knew were off the board for him, but surely to be accompanied by someone—an angel, no less—would garner some leniency. “I’ll even let you choose which one! Unless it’s a fucking bore.”


“Oh well hello there Rumi! Don’t be to harsh on the people don’t wanna scare them to much!”

Ah. It was Gregory. Resident responsible person. Yawn.

" Well, actually; I do enjoy the look of fear in their eyes as the intricate construction of their own lies unwinds and collapses around them, tangling them in the fickle web they had oh so artfully woven- thank you very much," The points of her teeth glinted as she smiled. Rumi loved when they did that. She imagined that is what they did every time. Which is partly why she smiled so much.

She did accept the coffee though, blowing the steam from the surface of the cup before taking a sip.

" It's good to scare them anyways, can't be much use as a hunter if all they do is run from the smallest threat. "

The new arrival to the guild hall did not go unnoticed by Rumi as she continued to nurse the bitter drink. A pretty person with defined features and long hair, looking like they were a few moments from sprinting. Rumi stared them down as she took another small sip ( god, this thing needed some sugar ) and her smile became a smirk.

“I’m Ren, I do not headbutt people.”


“Unless that gets me hired...Then I do headbutt people.”

Ah, versatility; wonderful,

“Both of you must be impressed, give me a job, otherwise I'll start crying and you'll look like bad people."

Rumi's smirk had become a full grin during the sorry attempt for a verbal application, though she didn't take the outstretched hand.

" Oh...Sweetheart ," Her voice was dark and breathy as it moved through sharp teeth.
" I am a bad people, but you're fun , so I'll hear you out regardless of the little... threat? "
Could it really be called that? She could not think of a single person who would be threatened by crying other than maybe the Centenarian, but that wolf was afraid of her own shadow being upset with her.

" Just tell me why you want to work here specifically. "

She hoped this one was hirable. They were incredibly entertaining.


Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
Jet's vents fluttered like gills under the pressure of his own arhythmic breathing, the harsh sting of his ribs cramming itself through the cracks in his current pleasant-numbness. It made him all too aware of the irritating metal bars keeping his ribs in place and his keel whole, or the brace parting his feathers unnaturally. His left wrist clicked quietly every time he turned it, too.

Jet clicked his inner mandibles and puffed his crest, the burning in his chest reaching the point where he decided to simply sit down against the smooth metal pole. It squealed against his skin and ruffled his dress-shirt, bunching it around his upper thoratic vertebrae, where the recent inscision-scar tugged at the surrounding skin.

Being injured was a lot of trouble.

He'd barely been out for fifteen minutes, and already, he was exhausted. Too much effort was being poured into healing for him to be active, but one could only laze about their room so long before the boredom became utterly toxic. Jet's wings slumped to the ground, matte black feathers splaying out across almost the entire courtyard with all of the grace of a drunk herron. The storm-herald shut his eyes against the light and the exhaustion headache building behind a possibly still-concussed brain.

For all he knew about medicine, you'd think he'd be a better patient.

He almost felt bad for the in-agency doctors. Almost. He would have, had they not gotten him high enough that he passed out, instead of being allowed to observe his own operation... not that Jet would let anyone be conscious if he was operating.

He forced his breathing to settle, soothing it back into a slow, constant circulation instead of the spastic, heart-like beating it had been previously. No need to tip Rika off. Nope. Jet may be a little irresponsible with his ease of healing, but he knew his bones were fine enough. He'd know if the plate came loose. There was no need to worry anyone. No. He was fine. Just... in pain... and exhausted. The chimera hummed, amusement lacing his voice at his own hypocrisy.

Hypocrisy or not, it was better than keeping himself cooped up inside and valiantly trying to sleep the days away. He did feel a bit better being outside for a time.

But the time for stressing his body was over; he was healing and had to respect that, no matter how much he'd like to continue stretching his stiff, underused muscles. So, he drew his wings up and pushed off the pole with the arm that wasn't sore, stumbling into enough of a standing position that he could fold his wings down, the tips of his primary feathers towering over his head. Time to get back to—well, not work, but back inside, at least.

From the main hall, it was easy to see the towering figure—very slightly disheveled, though he had donned his blazer once more and his crest was smoothed with his calm—quite literally duck through the doorway, lightless wings varying from trailing behind him in a loose, relaxed slouch to looming to either side of his head like large blades.

Such a sight was uncommon; Jet rarely moved all that much unless he had to, and since his last quest, he'd been on strict orders to rest.

Jet hadn't even met the new recruits.

He felt bad—always good to make the agency babies feel welcome—but even just crawling his way out of his room had been an effort for the longest time.

His mandibles clicked gently once more, his very slight annoyance spurred by the timely throb of his battered abdomen.

Yes, being injured was a hassle, now wasn't it?

Knight boi

Gregory smiled at the…….man? That just demanded for a job, usually he would be laughing and thought he had a comedic personality though he could tell the guy was serious, he gave a stone like face, he always hated the cocky ones, though Gregory usually just broke them down and build them back up again like how drill sergeants would treat their recruits and scare them a bit, and then build them back up as soldiers.

“Oh, your one of thoose people, I see, hm.”

He though for a moment as he placed his fingers around his chin making a thoughtful motion. How could he deal with this very cocky man?

“We can’t give you a job, and I don’t really care if I look like a bad person, but I know you can have some coffee!”

He said as he showed the man the last remaining cup of caffeine held in a plastic like cup.

As he saw Rumi judging his coffee taste he was emotionally hurt, he must admit, he only gets this coffee when he vists his wife.

“It’s not mine, it’s my wife Rumi, she used to love this type of coffe, just black, she was a simple one in her tastes of coffee.”

Mostly everyone knew that Gregory was going through a hard time right now, his wife had died recently, they were both in the agency to be exact, both young too they both joined similarly close to each other and they got along well. It didn’t help that his wife of 9 years was also pregnant when she was killed too, she was murder by a group of men and they could barley recognize her when she was found.

It didn’t help that Gregory easily massacred them all, even without cause it was just emotion instinct when he killed them.

“It’s fine though, Jane always had weird tastes in coffee, I always made fun of her for it. Heh.”


Funai Ren
“Oh, you’re one of thoose people, I see, hm.”

Like a Chucky doll, Ren’s turn to stare at the pale man was eerie and robotic. The thinnest of smiles, a blend of disbelief and anger over what ill-fated words had met his ears.

“One of thooose people?” He whispered, wringing his hands to numb out the itch developing in his fingers. The itch to strangle over being referred to like some kind of lesser creature.
“I’m sorry,” what started in a sinister calm voice soon grew in aggression, “but do you want to see how hard I can punch?!" Ren’s pupils had constricted so tightly that they nearly disappeared in the amber of his irises.

“We can’t give you a job, and I don’t really care if I look like a bad person, but I know you can have some coffee!”

“Oh, a coffee for one of thooose people?!” Ren crooned, grudge building with this first impression. “You think I cannot fetch my own coffee? You believe I am weak?! Weak like child?! Give me that,” he snatched the drink with a glare, holding it close to his chest. “Now back off, Milky. I will cut you.”

Ren’s tantrum took a pause as he focused on the gift, blinking and cupping his hands around the coffee in mild curiosity. Warm. So warm, in fact, some may even consider it hot. This pleased Ren, as presented through a soft purr growing in his chest.

“I will not cut you,” happy demon had no need for violence, “not today.”

With conversation over some wife named Jane and coffee or something or rather, Ren was preoccupied purring and warming his hands, he could focus back on why he was here in the first place. Milky might have declined, but Pinky had not turned him away just yet, and until Ren was dragged out of the establishment and abandoned on the street, he was determined to stay and get a position.

To be referred to as sweetheart by pointy-teeth, Ren was under the impression it was a good sign. Great, even, sailing through like butter on a hot pan. Smug malevolence, amber eyes narrowed and tail beginning to swish back and forth. He was winning! He was the sweetheart! Yes he was! How quickly he had burrowed his way into their goodwill! How foolish they were to fall for his devious ways–

"I am a bad people, but you're fun, so I'll hear you out regardless of the little... threat?”

Ren blanked, going still. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. They were meant to do everything in their power to stop a display of tears, offer tissues and hire him and give plenty of promotions to keep Ren happy. Maybe a desk plant and his own office, weekly spa treatments.

“It’s not a little threat,” he muttered, spine bristling with fresh annoyance. “It’s a big promise.”

"Just tell me why you want to work here specifically."

Ren was miffed. How dare they ask him, a willing employee, questions. With a sigh his head lowered, eyes downcast to the floor under a crescent of dark lashes.

“No, no. I get it,” he sniffed, turning to the side. “You don’t trust me.” For added effect the pointed tail had curled, and Ren held it close like a scared, wounded animal. “I am so sad,” he whispered, brows scrunching and lower lip quivering. “I’ll have nowhere to live.”

If not for the sudden pause in his melodrama to glance and check if they were watching the attention seeking, perhaps it would’ve been believable to somebody blind.

“Do you want to give me the job now?”

Ren huffed impatiently, giving up on that angle. Money was the obvious answer. Living wasn’t free. But in all honesty:

“Everyone else said no to me.” Ren’s voice was flat with irritation. Always a sobering experience, being declined. “I know. Me. They told me no.” Ren couldn’t quite gather his bearings over it. “Not that I care.” Going on the defensive, he crossed his arms over his chest and cast a glare to the side. “They’re all stupid to turn me away. I bet they liked blondes.”

While reliving the bitter injustice of his prior interviews, another answer floated to mind.

“I also want to buy a fruit farm,” he added quietly with a determined nod. “They’re expensive, so I need a job.”


“Oh, your one of thoose people, I see, hm.”

Rumi's eyes narrowed dangerously at Gregory's words. The man may have been a rank above her; but regardless of the boredom given to her by this job- she was still the one incharge of recruitment. She had specifically made sure of it.

The possible recruit's apparent predisposition to speak like an indignat cat given the gift of speach ( a certain other cat was brought to mind- though he was a bit more... glum.) was wonderful to witness; but it didnt do much to quell Rumi's irritation. A toothy smile remained plastered on her face.

“We can’t give you a job, and I don’t really care if I look like a bad person, but I know you can have some coffee!”

Now who was giving this interview anyways?

The canidate did not seem to pleased with him either, given the numerous threats of violence. Rumi really did hope they didnt follow through with any of them, it would be annoying cleaning up after a fight in the hall.

They seemed happy enough with their bitter gift at least, were they purring? Aw.

“It’s not mine, it’s my wife Rumi, she used to love this type of coffe, just black, she was a simple one in her tastes of coffee.”

Ah. Her.

“It’s fine though, Jane always had weird tastes in coffee, I always made fun of her for it. Heh.”

The mention of Jane did cool Rumi's irritation somewhat, not much. But somewhat.

" The coffee is fine, thank you." The offered words were distant, distracted.

Rumi knew it was difficult living without a person that had been there for you so recently. Mistakes could be made so much more easily when grief and anger clouded vision.

It was difficult paying of the debts the dead left behind. It was more difficult repaying your own debts to the dead. It was-
It was just overall, a messy buisness.

Her attention was once again snatched in the claws of the somewhat needy canidate as they spoke.

“No, no. I get it, you don’t trust me. I am so sad, I’ll have nowhere to live.”

Pause as they turned and checked the audience. This person... Could make use of some acting classes.

“Do you want to give me the job now?”

Honestly, yes.

“Everyone else said no to me. I know. Me. They told me no. Not that I care. They’re all stupid to turn me away. I bet they liked blondes.”

This was great. This was wonderful, the originality! The theatrics! The lack of any sort of complex thought behind those eyes!

She was very close to offering up the job right then.

“I also want to buy a fruit farm, They’re expensive, so I need a job.”

The truth behind that statment was somewhat more difficult to mesure, it sounded senscere; but was so comic. And really- it didnt matter.

" Wonderful, adorable, you're hired; come with me and we'll get you a lisence,"

Her smile was plasant, crinkling the corners of her eyes.
Undeniably, hiring them on the spot was in no small part a petty act of spite against Gregory for the attempt at a contradiction- but either way the guild had a funny new Lancer; and with every new recruit ; The Tamer owed her a favor.

Knight boi

In a snap of a finger Gregory went from his depressing moment to his constant ‘usual’ happy self, he was always a mystery no one really knew what he was filling, no one was really that close to him either, they knew him but not really his whole life was a mystery. Though he was known at the agency for one of the few rank A agents here, and his power could prove it.

He was quite strong and powerful, and definitely tough guy to put down in a fight and even when he’s in his demon form he’s absolutely terrifying to look at, he could kill rank C’s and D’s quite easily though any rank A could do such a terrible thing. The question was when would he? What was stopping them? Basic general mind Barriers were to be blamed, a general instinct in the brain.

Greogry smiled as the man yelled at him and eventually thanked him, he chuckled, wow this kid really reminded him of his youth a basic copy beside how he looked and dressed. Though he gave a big freindly smile at the man.

“Huh, I was just joking around man, seeing what you would do if someone played with your feelings y’know? Seeing if you get mad easily, wouldn’t want to punch me y’know!”

He said laughing to himself slightly, as he raised an eyebrow to see Lumi, the angry woman who looked like she needed a hug constantly, actually let the man join, huh.

“That’s not everything you see everyday! Anyways Lumi, I don’t really have any orders of jobs yet so what should I do? Need any help with anything?”

He said asking curiously as he walked to a nearby trash can and dumped his cup into the can as long with the cup holder.


“You don’t look that different from a squirrel, you know?"

There was a pause as Arcadius tilted his head.

“Well…maybe a rabid one.”
Lan wanted to punch him so badly. Just a little punch. It wouldnt even hurt that badly.
Ok that was a lie, it would hurt pretty badly. But still.

Instead of acting on this urge; he made a face to convey a simillar emotion. Even if he was the type to hit first; he was currently not the type that was tall enough to reach.

With a snort the red demon slipped the paper into his back pocket, and it was good as gone.
No way in hell was Lan going to grab it from there.

“Tell you what, Angel, let’s come to a compromise.”

Lan's fuse burned shorter by the second.

" Angel is still longer than Lan, you bastard-"

Before Angel could register what had happened, both of his hands were snatched from above his head, Arcadius had become much too close, and the room was spinning.

Something halfway between a squeak of surprise and a yelp of indignation escaped his throat , the feathers of his folded wings ruffling as the world became a teacup ride. Lan hated the teacup ride.

I’ll hand over your pretty little photo without any resistance, but first, you need to come on a mission with me.”

A hand realased one of Lan's, coming down to tap him on the nose.
Was his face burning from embarassment, or rage? He was not sure. All he could be sure of was the fact that a hand was close to his face; and he was going to try and bite it. Obviously.
As far as he was concerned, this whole dance was asking for a fight; and by god- Lan was ready to fucking go.

Luckily for Red Bitch; the attempt at a bite missed- because the little angel was fully intint on drawing blood.

“I’ll even let you choose which one! Unless it’s a fucking bore.”

" How about I choose 'fuck off , I wouldnt hang out with you alone for multiple days if someone held a knife to my throat',"

Lan said the words, but - he really needed to pick a mission and go already. Boredom was going to kill him before Arcadius did.

And. He did have his eye on the fighting ring mission. The idea that some little kids out there needed help and he was just sitting here scrubbing blood from dining room tables; it was frustrating.

Lan realized with a start that he had forgotten to move away from the demon with no concept of personal space, and all but jumped backwards.

"... Find someone else to go with us and I'll think about it, someone who is at least thirty four percent less fucking annoying than you."


Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
Jet was not expecting his morning (or afternoon? His circadian cycle was absolutely shattered at the moment) to be so harshly inturrupted (rather, the path between him and his bed). He knew Rumi was interviewing for more agency babies, but he didn’t expect... that A-rank. His name was Gregory? Yeah, Gregory. He didn't expect Gregory to be there, much less to be poking the raccoon that was Rumi.

Jet flattened his crest, showing his exhaustion in his feathers as they sleeked. "Enjoying yourself, Rumi?" He hummed, grey outer mandibles just barely showing past scarred lips. He had no idea what was going on, but he'd been around the agency long enough to know when to deal some form of damage control. "Introducing the kiddos to the wonderful world of headhunting?"

His wings—one moving in stiff discomfort from the splint—opened slightly almost in tune with the cheeky smile. The entire display was only contrasted by the dark circles under his eyes and the jolting, painful movements of his torso.

And maybe, just maybe his smile was a little more strained than usual.

He spared a brief glance toward Gregory, perking a brow as if to ask what he thought he was doing enroaching on Rumi's job, but he barely missed a beat as the walking skyscraper swept through the main hall with all the grace of someone with several broken ribs.

The herald wasn't in the mood to do damage control. He needed to lay back down. He almost regretted going out to stretch. Almost. The fresh air was good for him.


indiscriminate sloth
Feisty. Arcadius thought as Lan all but nearly pecks off his finger, the intent of which he saw coming from miles in the horizon. His lackadaisical exploration of the Angel species is attributed to whispered scraps inlayed small-town gossip and a viscid smog of orphan-boy tall tales meant to frighten fledglings into submission. Although expressed with a varying lack of reverence, each story or rumor carried a common factor: angels were pristine, glorified muses without so much as a strand astray and a cold pride bordering—if not fully submerged in—egomania.

Arcadius never sought the authenticity of these claims, although he never accepted them at face value either. As he grew older and clawed himself free from the ugly depths of his cesspool orphanage, the intrigue with demon-bone-dissolving-angels faded into a more atavistic demand for survival. Only when hearing of the new recruit (at the time) did his past curiosity of angels resurface. Lan, however, was nothing like the angels he learned to fear or hate.

"... Find someone else to go with us and I'll think about it, someone who is at least thirty four percent less fucking annoying than you." A condition to pile atop the former. It was expected, of course. The sun would obliterate them all before Lan agreed to anything Arcadius spoke without utter resentment.

“Here I was thinking I’d finally have you all to myself.” He sighs ruefully, the back of his hand daintily resting over his forehead. Knowing his little display wouldn’t garner so much as an atom of pity, Arcadius seeks around the room for able bodies. The nearest victim being a cat. The demon was prepared to turn his head and glance down the hall, paying the feline no mind, but the opportunity sparked itself before he could miss it.

Ah~ He hums, floating past Lan and letting the tip of his tail brush against his cheek. “Here’s the perfect candidate!” Arcadius reaches down and scoops up the cat from its midsection firmly as it starts to struggle. “Haha! Look, he’s just as feisty as you!” He quickly returns to Lan, wincing as the cat delivers a good few scratches. “Here’s the third party member you requested!” With an uncanny gentle ease, Arcadius tosses the cat towards Lan before it could do any more damage to his arms.

Lucius Cypher

Delicious Friend
In peace, Vigilance. Though Domic has returned from the dead and no longer is attached to the mortal things that once kept him shackled to live, he nonetheless still goes through the routine of everyday living and body maintenance. Sure, he doesn't need to eat, but he still goes to breakfast. Perhaps he has no need to wash himself as he is no longer affected by disease or taint, but he still baths. Though he is intended to be a guardian of the night and constantly on watch, he is willing to lay down for hours to simulate sleep if that's what others want him to do. While his body has a strange sense of immortality that prevents it from decaying further than it should, he still seeks to improve it however he can. Today he was training physically.

In the Practice Area Thing, the loud stomping of a giant could be heard. In full armored regalia and even carrying his massive battleaxe, Domic was running an obstacle course. Jumping over obstructions, climbing walls, even balancing across narrow passages. Mind you he was... Not very graceful. Unsurprisingly Domic's lumbering form made him look awkward and more often than not he simply brute forces through challenges that ordinarily required finesse and agility. Instead of jumping over walls he rolls right over them. Instead of bouncing off objects to reach a higher vantage point he simply buries his axe into the wall to serve as a handhold. Narrow spaces meant to be slipped through were either just avoided or smashed right though. His form was horrendous. But one cannot deny the fact Domic was at least doing all of this fast. Even if he wouldn't get any points in a competition for it.

Soon the undead giant would stop, having thoroughly run the course for a solid hour. His path of destruction was apparent, and at this point to run it again he would be too easy for him since he has already cleared a path from start to finish. So putting his weapon back into it's sheath on his back, Domic began a different training: repairing the damage done. An oft overlooked aspect of being a Hunter, but as Domic's personal duty to protect and serve it is important that he is able to help others recover after whatever tragedy befalls them. Even after the storm passes, walls need to be repaired, seeds planted, and rubble cleaned. And thus Domic must practice being able to fix the damage, set back the obstructions, and dispose of anything that can't be fixed to be replaced or removed. Such was his duty.

All the while Domic sung his song. Or rather, the song of his goddess. Even though he has not seen her since he had risen, he knows her soothing music is perhaps the only thing keeping this zombie sane unlike many who have been risen from their rest before. Much like his grace and agility, Domic's singing ability was atroicious, but he was giving it his all. He at least knows the lyrics and unlike his normal speech it's perfectly legible, even if his tone, pitch, and tune was terribly bad. Unfortunately, because he was singing the song of his lady and savior, Domic was making no efforts to be quiet, and if his voice was good at anything, it's being loud. It can be almost unsettling considering how soft spoken he normally is. His faith drives him to do strange things sometimes. He could easily be heard from outside of the Practice Area Thing, and possibly through out the building too.

One wish, that I can't pretend I don't wanna see come true
I know it wouldn't make a difference
If you thought of me as much as I think about you...
But maybe it's deliverance?
From the pain I know is coming on when my old soul's finally gone
It's not wrong to think about it, but I'll stop for tonight
'Cause we're immortalized forever in the songs that we write, ya know?
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Llama hand
Being consumed with thoughts of a new mission, Gray was only half paying attention to the lancers' quibble. He hardly needed to, it wasn't as if they'd be drawing a cat, of all things, into it. At least, that's what he thought.

Of course, the universe seemed bent on proving him wrong recently, so the demon proceeded to do just that.

If he could speak, Gray would've been spouting swears so bad that even ears in the Isle of Angels would be burning. Unfortunately, he couldn't, so instead he was forced to give his best attempt at a threatening hiss.

To his credit, it's hard to sound threatening when you're the size of a toaster. In moments, he was being picked up in a flailing mess of yowls and claws (the latter of which he felt sink into skin with a pinprick of satisfaction). He didn't have a chance to do much else before he was being thrown, thrown, at the short angel like a fuzzy football (in reality, it was a rather gentle toss, but his annoyance remained all the same). They collided still-unsheathed claws first, a few of them hooking on clothing and wings as Gray scrabbled off of him. He fell to the ground with a thump—a handful of feathers disturbed on their slow drift downward. Whoops. He'd have to apologize for that soon. For the time being, he simply focused on getting that stupid shifting spell right.

Reaching for his magic ever since... this felt strange. If, on a regular day, casting was nothing but pushing open a simple door, then it now felt more as if he was sprinting headfirst into a drawbridge in hopes that he'd break through (which was just about as efficient as any of the time he spent here, he supposed). Thankfully, he was well rested today, which meant the transformation wasn't too much trouble. Small, green wisps of glowing energy leapt off of him, swirling around his limbs as his whiskers twitched once before fading away and his paws turned to hands and feet (though, the claws remained—something that, out of everything, Gray didn't have too many complaints about). In a moment, he stood next to the pair with his usual disheveled, but (mostly) human appearance—ruffled hair, rumpled grey button-up shirt, ridiculously dark eye bags, and all.

His ears—still fuzzy and black—folded back. His tail swept back and forth, sending the feathers around it back into the air with a spin. His sharp teeth gleamed with the sunlight flowing in through the window. Really, he might've looked dangerous if it wasn't for the fact that all those traits happened to belong to cats, leaving the whole display with a bit more potential for 'cuteness' than he would've liked (even the quietly upset 'mrrrrr' that came from his chest was too high pitched to sound like it was coming from a big cat).

Gray, oblivious to whatever effect his fuzzier traits had on his impression, regarded the demon with narrowed eyes all-too-similar to a cat's haughty gaze. "Try that again," he growled, "and I will bite you."


Funai Ren
Gregory smiled. Ren did not return it.

“I was just joking around man, seeing what you would do if someone played with your feelings y’know? Seeing if you get mad easily,”

Offended, an appropriate decision was made:

He was going to play in this fool’s blood.

In the very least, the demon managed to control angry protests that were filled with further threats of violence, and instead tilted his chin with defiant indignance. He was not a little emotional toy to test and poke fun at, and having failed miserably, felt a need to try and salvage the situation.

“I obviously knew that.” Ren did in fact, not know that. “I was just- I was joking.” He was not joking. “I’ve often been praised for my self control and nice nature.” Literally nobody has said this to him, and the poor attempt at humility was accompanied with a quick fluff to his hair. Not conceited whatsoever.

The offer to punch them in the face would forever be on the table, especially after successfully ‘playing with his feelings’. There was annoyance harboured for giving such an easy reaction, and a displeased scowl as he fidgeted with the lid of the coffee cup.

Alas, another failure at reigning his temper, but a surprise win towards his current goal:

"Wonderful, adorable, you're hired; come with me and we'll get you a licence,"

“A license.” Ren repeated softly. “I can’t even drive.”

He had actually done it. His talent of manipulation had proven successful, and the fruits of his labor would be plentiful. The sadness, (which Ren was convinced just landed him the job), worked! And why should he be surprised? Of course it did. Look at him. Nobody wants to see him in tears or under any kind of emotional stress. He could get any job he wanted!

Just… not any nearby. Because they’re scumbags that prefer blondes, not because Ren is inhospitable.

“You have always been my favorite.” It made sense, from someone with good hair to someone with good hair, they were the same. Bonded by the shared (and very heavy) responsibility of beautiful tresses. In an example of his aforementioned good nature, Ren just had to ask: “If I’m nice to you, do I get promoted faster?”

A behemoth of an individual made their appearance. The towering height, strained movement and kiddo remark aside, Ren was far too busy staring dinnerplate pupils at the wings to chime anything defensive about being an ‘adult’.

He’d caught that his current favorite was named Rumi, (important information if he was to slither his way to the top of the food chain), before his attention honed in on the feathery appendages.

The oblivious Ren saw only one thing:

Very big bird.

Only once the creature had flounced by, did Ren manage to exit the trancelike ogling.

“You have pets.” Excited over such a discovery, Ren turned back to Rumi and Gregory. “How many?”

With a petting zoo at Ren’s animal-loving disposal, this workplace was proving to be a great investment of his oh-so-valuable time.


We are going to trust the giant flying sharks?
Nivara Kaida
Interactions: Those in the front hall
Location: Main Hall

“TODAY IS THE DAY!” She said as she bursted through the door to a local cafe. A couple onlookers stopped mid-conversation to gawk at her. Why? CAUSE SHES AWESOME! Nivara danced through rows of tables and seats to reach a counter where her bestie (someone she only met a week ago) was working. “Jamaria! Today is the day I have an interview! At that one place! Ya! It seems fun! But like- I know! Me? Getting a job? It seemed impossible! BUT HERE WE ARE!!” She jumped up on the counter, tail thumping against the counter in her excitement.

Her friend shook her head, a smile on her face as she cleaned off the counter next to Nivara. “Why dont you just come work for me? We could use a new spirit here!” She leaned in and in a not so quiet whisper, “Marlo gets NOTHING done! Hes a BORE!” Someone looked over at them and glared while the two giggled. “Now get off my counter.” Jamaria flicked Nivara with a towel and Nivara yelped.

“How dare!” She placed a hand on her forehead and fell off the counter. “You make poor me fall! I can sue you for that!” She grinned at her own joke before standing up, brushing off her skirt. “But on the topic of your work- I cant work here! They wont let me use my pokey sticks! Saying ill hit someone!” She removed the dagger from her belt and spun it around her fingers. “See im the most-” She lifted her arm up, throwing the blade into the air before it found itself embedded in the wooden beams. “-careful.”

Jamaria shook her head and laughed. “Nivara you are not careful- why are you on my counter again?”

“I have to get it!” She said as she leaped up into the air, grabbing hold of the hilt. Gravity then took hold of her and sent her falling back to the ground, landing in a neat bow. “Ta-da!” Some people in the room clapped while others giggled and whispered, this only aided to her smile growing wider.

“I must be off now! Adi- adio- HOW EVER YOU SAY THAT WORD! BYEEE!” She laughed before taking off out the door again, leaving as quick as she entered.

“Good luck Nivara!” Her friend called out and she looked over her shoulder, throwing a thumbs up in her direction/ Her footsteps faded as she skipped out into the street.


A building loomed in the distance and Nivaras chest gave a flutter. This was it! She was going to be the best missioner out there to ever exist! Nivara the Great is what they would call her! She smiled big and decided she should probably rehearse what she was going to say. “RAWR! SEE IM THE SCARIEST! Wait no thats not it-” She shook her head, kicking a rock a couple feet away from her. “What about…. Im Nivara. A dragon. I think. I should be. I know I look like a human! Aha see be fooled! Im amazing at stealthing! Nope not that either.”

She thought of a couple other responses but by the time she reached the front door and opened it… they all fled her mind. Like little bats leaving a cave. Nivara gave a big smile, sharp teeth showing. Yes! She entered the room and took a moment to take everything in. WOW! THERE WAS SO MUCH! Her smile grew even brighter as she approached a group of four individuals.

“Greetings other monsters! I am Nivara! I have come seeking a chance of the job viewing! Is there any possibility I can have that? I have no clue where to go or who to see but- OH MY MOONS LOOK AT YOU! YOURE A BEAUTIFUL CREATURE!” Job interview temporarily forgotten. She was running up to the person with bright blue and black feathered wings, reaching up to try and grab his face. No she does not know what personal space is.

“You have very very pretty wings and they are HUGE! Wait- you are hurt! Want a shiny rock to make you feel better? I have very many shiny rocks!" She reached into her back and withdrew a handful of gems and river stones that had a little gleam on them, holding them out to Jet. “Take whatever one you want!”

She tossed a look over her shoulder and grinned at the other people too. “Dont worry! You are all gorgeous too! Want a shiny rock? Or a plain rock? I have very very many rocks I can give you!”
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“Here I was thinking I’d finally have you all to myself.”

Arcadius sighed dramatically before turning. Presumably to find that required third party member.

"...Like," Lan squinted as he processed the comment "For...a one on one fight?"

His brows furrowed, and his frown became more so confused than irritated. If the guy wanted a fight, Lan had already offered- what was the point in taking a mission first? The angel looked down at his own crossed arms as he contemplated the reasoning. Maybe it was so one of the higher ranks didn't interrupt? Yeah, okay, that made sense. He accepted the reason with a nod.


Lan was roused from his state of deep contemplation by the brush of a tail against his cheek. If he had been a Werebeast, the noise that came from his throat would have most certainly been a growl.

“Here’s the perfect candidate!”
Honey gaze followed Arcadius, as he bent- scooping up the loafing office cat by the midsection. This, was quite obviously a bad idea- as the small creature immediately began to struggle and hiss.

“Haha! Look, he’s just as feisty as you! "

Lan was going to harm this man.

"Here’s the third party member you requested!”

" Wait- don't-" and then he did. Red bitch tossed the cat like a stuffed toy; right at Lan.

The angel scrambled to catch the falling feline as gently as he could, miscalculating the distance- and instead being smacked in the face by a furry football. Claws scrambled for purchase on his shoulders- but were thankfully nowhere near strong enough to scratch his skin. Unfortunately the soft feathers of his wings, and cotton of his shirt did not share the innate durability of the angels.

A long strip was torn in the shoulder of Lan's (favorite) black T-shirt. Soft down drifted to the floor as the cat jumped.

Lan's previously worried face scrunched into a scowl.

" In what world was that a good idea, you stupid motherfucker?" he was upset, but not particularly by the cat. He was plenty accustomed to feline hostility. Despite his love for the soft little animals; every single cat he had met in his lifetime had become his mortal enemy.

" Oh, yeah- lets just toss the bitch at Lan;" aforementioned Lan stepped forward, smacking Arcadius on the newly scratched arm. " The one guy in this whole fuckin place cats have declared war against, you're a damn genius y'know? "
A warmth covered the hand that rested on a red arm- and then a soft glow. Limb held gently so the other wouldn't pull away, the newly acquired scratches faded into nothing.

Yes, he wanted to punch the guy. Yes, he also didn't want him hurt. It was a hard life containing so many contradictions. Maybe this is why Lan was so stressed all of the time.

" Next time, when you have a stupid idea; why don't you say it out loud first - and then I can say ' fuck, no; you're an idiot' and we can skip the middle part where you actually do the stupid thing,"

The angel had become so preoccupied with nagging; he had neglected to pay attention to the cat. Until the cat was taller than him. And (mostly) human.

"Try that again," the cat- no- man growled at the floating demon, "and I will bite you."

Wait wait wait.
" Hey- hold the hot hell up," Lan's hands both moved to gesture to the newly anthropomorphized addition to the circle.

" You were a dude this whole time? I tried to pet you, you ass! I 'pspspspsd' in your direction! Why in the name of all that is sane in fuckery , didn't you say anything?"

Knight boi

kaito was standing in front of the agency, the day was slightly off from the usual. A bit darker than yesterday, though that wasn’t the topic his intelligence was focusing on, it was the fact that he was from the part of the human part of the world. And he was here, with monsters, actual monsters, like the ones from the tales his older brother told him when they were alone. It didn’t help that a dragon like girl had just walked into the agency like it was nothing!? How could she possibly not be nervous? Actually that was a stupid question, she’s been a monster all her life most likely.

As she walked by him, he noticed the sign that read,’Hiring.’ It was a bit crooked and didn’t look like anyone actually cared that it was off balanced. He took a deep breath in and out as he stepped into the grass like surface and walked towards the sign. He looked at it with a straight face as he kneeled down to the level of it and gently put it back into its designated position it was supposed to be in.

After that unusual encounter, he went back to the same exact area he was standing as he would watch the building with suspicion. Maybe they could help with what was happening to him? He didn’t know what was happening to him, maybe it was the same thing that happened to his brother? He hasn’t seen him in since he was a kid, and he knew what their father did to them in his wicked and un-forgiving experiments, we’ll that’s what it looked like in his perspective of eye sight.

He didn’t know what was happening, he wasn’t a monster or a insane beast right? He didn’t know what to do, or control this or use these abilities. Last week he noticed there was something similar to a pulley device, right straight dab in the middle of his chest. He didn’t know if he pulled it, would turn him into some sort of domestic creature? Maybe the people in here could help him? He didn’t know where else to go, he was alone and barley had any money, belonging in the lower class of the human race, born to be looked down upon by the more wealthy and richer.

He took a deep breath in and out as he started to walk inside, as he walked in his eyes catches upon multiple different creatures and human like beings though something was totally off about them. He looked around the place in confusion. He saw that there was a dragon, the same girl from before yelling at them. Then there was a pair of two people looking like they were doing some sort of interaction with one another. Then there was some man who quietly watched the chaos that was happening. The man looked like he was strong and powerful though he couldn’t tell what he was. Until the man looked right directly into his eyes with an eerie sense, with Kaito quickly looking away. That man was probably and most likely one of the strongest ones there. Henceforth him not being yelled at in anyway.

He then quitely stood there waiting for his turn to be interviewed from someone, it looked like someone got hired thoguh so maybe he would have a chance getting in here and learning what’s happening to his body.


Rumi was not one to frown , no. An unshakable smile plastered itself on her face just about every waking moment of her life.
That did not keep her eyes from showing their annoyance.

“I was just joking around man, seeing what you would do if someone played with your feelings y’know? Seeing if you get mad easily,”

Ah, so that was it? Well, he was going to very quickly find that playing with feelings was Rumi's job as well.
She waited for the recruit to have their defensive fun, before softly nudging Gregory with an elbow.

" Babe, if you don't watch who's toes you're stepping on; you're going to annoy the wrong demon here," her voice was sing-song and dangerous.
Was this man far more powerful than she currently was? Yes. Did he still have to answer to the legendary ranks? Oh yes.
The confidence brought by having a legendary witch owe you quite a few favors; was frankly intoxicating.

“A license, I can’t even drive.”

Ah yes, one of her current favorites.
Rumi restrained a quiet snort. So this one was most certainly not going to be the sharpest tool in Lycanthrope, but with the average common sense of the agency at an all time low; they were certain to fit right in.

" Sweetheart..." Rumi muttered, one hand resting over her chest. A classic pose to convey one was feeling strong emotion of sorts. Did this person truly manage to survive off of good looks alone? That was hilarious. Rika would love them, she was certain.

Rumi watched with quiet appreciation as the newest hire experienced what ever the opposite of the five stages of grief was, in under a minuet.

“You have always been my favorite.”

Aw, Rumi would love to see how long that could last.

“If I’m nice to you, do I get promoted faster?”

" Oh, absolutely, " Rumi hummed, placing one hand on the recruit's shoulder. With a smile she leaned down, speaking softly.

"Not many people have bothered to ask, but I'm basically in charge around here,"

That was, mostly a lie. While Rika was, in fact- quite in debt to the demon of deals; she was also the witch who had found the means to conquer death itself. Not even Rumi was egotistical enough to believe she could talk her way from the grave.
But this agency baby didn't need to know the finer details.

"Enjoying yourself, Rumi?"

Her head turned lazily at the question, she could recognize that voice in a hurricane.

"Introducing the kiddos to the wonderful world of headhunting?"

" Y'know it, big boy," Rumi half teased; it was really all she could get in as Jet continued his path down the hall. Not much for conversation for the moment; but it was justified, considering how recently his body had been crinkled like an old can of cola.

“You have pets. How many?”

" Four." Rumi replied without missing a beat. Only one was actually an animal.
The word had barely left her mouth when another young recruit burst their way into the hall. Loudly.

“Greetings other monsters! I am Nivara! I have come seeking a chance of the job viewing! Is there any possibility I can have that? I have no clue where to go or who to see but- OH MY MOONS LOOK AT YOU! YOURE A BEAUTIFUL CREATURE!”

“You have very very pretty wings and they are HUGE! Wait- you are hurt! Want a shiny rock to make you feel better? I have very many shiny rocks!" She reached into her back and withdrew a handful of gems and river stones that had a little gleam on them, holding them out to Jet. “Take whatever one you want!”

“Dont worry! You are all gorgeous too! Want a shiny rock? Or a plain rock? I have very very many rocks I can give you!”

Ah, so many youths with boundless energy; how was she to deal with them all?

With the laziest means possible. Of course.

" I'm quite honestly tiered of interviews, just tell me if you want to eat humans or not." Hopefully this would be the last one of the day. Given this one did not, infact, want to eat people- they both still needed to fill out their forms; get their licenses and their assigned rooms- and that was before picking out a first mission.

Knight boi

Gregory chuckled when Rumi softy hit him, knowing full aware that he was the strongest in in the agency, he raised an eyebrow at the Girl as the man stood there still asking questions. The man was quite talkative, and also loud maybe a little to loud for his own good but who here was to judge? Certainly not Gregory that’s for sure. As his attention turned into some random dragon girl, and then a dragon man, not to mention one of the laziest members in the agency,jet.

He raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact with jet immediately observing the winged man. Though it was funny when the man thought he was some sort of wild dog and pet of the agency.

“Ah, isn’t the wonderful jet! How’s it like sitting down all day? Tiring? I’m sure my legs would be dying if I had to sit down 24/7.”

He said joking around and slightly offending the man softly though it was obvious that he didn’t mean to harm or offended the man. He did it in a more playful attitude.

As he saw the dragon girl continue to yell he chuckled and did a hand motion showing the girl to slow down a little bit.

“Aren’t you a loud one. Maybe we shall tone our voices down a notch? Let’s use our indoor voices now okay ma’am?”

He said in a kind manner and chuckled slightly, the his attention turned into a boy who was clearly just a kid and he made a hand signal for him to come over to him, with the boy doing what he was ordered.

“Hey Rumi make sure to get this kid his license also, he looks like he’s seen some stuff.”

He said sending a deeper signal to Rumi, it was sort of like a code that the higher up’s understood from each other.

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