Autumn Leaf
Chrysalis, Metamorphosis, Genesis
01
'Terminal Lucidity'
Code by Serobliss / Vanity#8119
Wallflower Office
In-Character
Discord: Link
Last edited:
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Fandom Limbus Company/ Library of Ruina Setting (Wallflower Office) In-Character
- Thread starter Autumn Leaf
- Start date
Autumn Leaf
Chrysalis, Metamorphosis, Genesis
Case File#001 _ "Folie à Deux"
The City is all anyone truly knows. It is closer to them than their own family. It serves as an eternal caretaker, a stoic father, a gentle mother , and the reverend priest. The blood flowing the streets is the result of an unwritten, cruel testament. Enacted by higher powers. A ceremonious baptism for those who are willing to do what it takes to survive. To those who cannot, they are swept up in the vicious tide that drowns all. Even dreams. Twinkling little vestiges dragged down by the overwhelming undercurrent, sunken down to the gloomy bottom. Where these faded hopes will forever remain.
Tributes to the City built to shelter the last descendants of humanity. Perhaps it the only option they have, in this terrible, broken world. A consequence of sins long past.
Location: District 12 Backstreets 'Zone - 04 Border'
On this day, not unlike any other, the skyline overlooking the backstreets of District 12 revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Above the segmented skyscrapers rose a smoking fireball spiraling upwards like the wispy strokes of a paint brush, darkening everything in effervescent shadow. The aftermath of a Wing being torn from its position among a lofty pantheon. Here, the City demanded more blood than usual. Sin was free to run rampant on these unsanctified grounds. With only the dim, hazy glow of the distant flames acting as atmospheric filter, to the neon-drench lights of signs perforating the musky battered Backstreets.
For nearly a year now, this weary chaos paved across the District. But even the screams grew dull. All is as it always seemed to be, those remaining numbed to the pain and suffering. Thus, the masses continued their dejected shambling journey to their contracted workplaces. Donned in cheap gasmasks, and carrying their tattered forms in a listless state. For the residents of this wingless District, their lives had already adjusted to this cruel truth. One of discomforting, dingy, horror. As other prowling opportunistic hunters sought to carve their stake upon this land ripe of forlorn power.
A vehicle skidded the dark overcrowded streets of the quarantine zone. A large armored personnel carrier. A rarity compared to the destitution.
A thrilling, uplifting song permeated the interior, enjoyed by one of the passengers seated in the segmented partition in the front. Hydrangea bobbed her head energetically, her long manicured nails thrummed the poppy beat against the leather armrest. The light tune cut when the radio flashed alive on the dashboard. Hydrangea pressed a button on the control panel, causing her eyes to light up in transmission. The supervisor made a dissatisfied face, her glossy dark lips forming somewhat a frown. She then leaned over to tap the driver on the shoulder.
This other woman, being one huge and burly and covered in tattoos donned a typical chauffer outfit with the Wallflower emblem. The only other distinguishing feature on this nondescript agent was the blonde hair tied into a bun.
"Wing Blockade. Active conflict. Main roads around Zone-05 are closed. Client has chosen a new meeting location."
One of manicured fingers pointed down to an opening in the dusty roads, one where the droves of wandering children, inebriated beggars, and scrawny stray hounds did not impede. With that order, the armored truck quickly came to a screeching halt. All unfastened contents practically flipped in the sharp whiplash.
Hydrangea pushed a displaced lock of hair out her face, glaring at the close-lipped driver. Who merely gazed forward unflinchingly. The supervisor pushed the car passenger door with a long sigh. Her long legs moved one by one, exposed pale skin glistened in the amber-lit bleak backdrop. She stood there a second, stretching her arms overhead.
The flower straddling her neck glimmered, almost flicking with sparkling dust. Immediately, another carrier truck not too far behind pulled up to the side.
"Naughty, naughty. These Syndicates act like rabid dogs. Always chewing up things they shouldn't. Making all our lives miserable..." the tall suited woman arced backwards, still in an exposed aerobic pose. Hydrangea drooped her head over as a side hatch opened from the adjacent armored vehicle. A small frame clammored to the edge, and hopped out. The excessive blue fabric fluttered like wing flaps as Snowdrop landed with a soft huff onto the battered cement of the side street.
The little nun-like figure waddled forward, flowing cloth gown dragging across the ground. They covered the side of their head with their tiny hands pitifully.
"Help. Zi Hua fell asleep. My poor ears..." the quiet squeaky voice whined from behind the ivory skull mask. They resembled a child shivering, buried beneath an oversized blanket.
Indeed, the truck rumbled from the power of each full-bore snore.
"Is that so?" the tall woman mused, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Must be thirsty from all the hard work. Give him some water."
Snowdrop nodded, and quickly climbed back into the truck with a skip. They produced a metal canteen, and began to dip the lip into his mouth. His throat expanded like a pinched hose, until the liquid overflowed. A gurgling sound followed, as the man yanked forward spluttering and choking. He heaved, grasping at his now soaked black longcoat. Their yellow eyes rolled around in his skull like an animal suddenly thrown into a spotlight.
"Ack! What the--!" recovering, his eyes glared at the blank-watching skull mask. "Why you little!"
His arms shot out, only to be stopped by a claw to his throat. The little one pointed a hand of talons forward, thin black glass needles prodding his skin.
"Watch your step, Zi Hua." the voice spoke. This time, it sounded different. A menacing graveling, male tone now.
Hydrangea walked over between the two with an innocent smile, her tall black stilettos hammering against the cold hard ground. She gently pushed the talons down with a dainty motion of a finger. Though soft, her words were anything but innocent. Her hips whipped playfully, invoking in her swaying form an almost mesmerizing pattern. A feeling of impending omen poured from the woman's motion as she circled around him, causing the hairs on the rowdy man's neck to stand alert. His body clenched as if trying to run. But was unable to move on its own.
Like he had been pinned down under the coiling movements of a deadly predator.
"Why are you so angry? It's your drool that you choked on. As the little one says. Tread carefully, Zi Hua. How long can a frog croak belligerently... Until a serpent scoops them up in its jaw?" with a snap of her hands Hydrangea clapped them together. The man flinched.
He opened his eyes warily to the view of a cheery, toothy grin. Hydrangea's demeanor seemed to revert back to a happy one. She leaned off a guard rail, pointing down to a lower level at a glowing animated sign featuring a steamy lemon-crowned cup.
"Hey, hey! Look down there. Our designated meeting spot with the client is at a local cafe!" her dark-glossy lips curling higher, as she flashed a black pay card. "Which means lunch is on the Office!~"
Hydrangea then strolled over to the other parked vehicle, the flower on her neck resonating again. The boisterous beauty signaled the driver of the second vehicle while passing. With a hiss, the side door of lumbering vehicle rolled open. The supervisor put one of her heels on the chunky side steps, pulling herself up the handrails. The inhabitants would be greeted with a familiar whimsical grin as Hydrangea poked her head in. Her hand tapped the side of one of the thick armored plates, ringing the metal while calling out. In sing-song similar to how mothers cooed, rallying a bunch of children.
"Hear that? Lunch is on me. Aren't I a lovely, doting supervisor? I know, I know. No need to thank me." her eyes narrowed slightly, "Now, do any other sleepyhead employees need a good motivation to wake up? I've already dealt with another lazy daisy.~ They will be considering their workplace conduct while watching the rest of us eat. Do any wish to join him?"
Zi Hua cried out, "Oh, c'mon! Aren't you the one who wrung me over the coals the last contract? My sleep state is because of that, Supervisor."
The little nun giggled at his anguish, speaking now in a childish voice. "Boo-hoo~"
Shrugging both shoulders, the flower-adorned officer continued to grin as she stepped back onto street level.
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ERode
In The Mirror
Fortunately or unfortunately, there was no opportunity for anyone in the second armored truck to have so much as caught a wink of in-transit sleep. It was a rare chance that Daisy got to ride a real vehicle, after all. Fixers on the bottom of the totem pole such as herself had to navigate the Backstreets of District 12 on foot, presumably to pick up extra experience along the way
Or, at least, that was the reason that was given.
The reality of it, however?
“Present day…present time…ahahahaha!”
Stuck in an enclosed space without even any windows to distract themselves, the Fixers within the second armored truck were treated to Daisy hollering her throat out as she cycled through song after song with Lupine, guided only by a radio jockey with a taste for synthpop. It was hard to imagine indeed, that the excitable girl was the clone of someone known for their eloquent singing when she shouted out sad girl romance lyrics with all the force of a drunken sailor high off of their own farts. And of course she had to bust some moves upon the swaying truck as it bounced over the potholes and bodies of the Backstreet. She was practically bouncing off the walls, a mixture of acrobatic talent and artistic delusion keeping her from body slamming any of the more boring Fixers within the Office, and it was by the miracle of the Tailors’ craft that her own uniform didn’t tear at the seams from the abuse it suffered.
Still, no party lasted forever.
When Hydrangea knocked, Daisy answered, pulling the door open. Her hair was matted against her flushed cheeks and the distinctly sour smell of sweat pervaded the enclosed environment, but the Grade 8 Fixer looked just as energetic as she did when she first popped in. Fanning out her untucked blouse, she shot a thumbs-up towards their supervisor.
“Yup, all ready to go, boss! Let’s get that bread!”
And with that, Daisy hopped out, untying the suit jacket around her waist and pulling it over her shoulders instead. Another miracle of the Tailors’ craft, no doubt. Regardless of how poorly she treated it, it never creased.
“Oh, Zi Hua! You should get some tomatoes over those eyes of yours. Heard that helps crazy with eyebags like yours.”
Juju
PREY-FOR-US
Rank 5 Fixer
Lupine
EGO: Rose-Tinted Reverie
The Backstreets
Code by Serobliss
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CatJones
Amateur Weeb
Rainflower
Grade 5 Fixer
Rainflower stared at the wall opposite herself, a single pale blue eye locked onto the Wallflower symbol office that was marked there. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands fidgeting to the flowers that adorned her uniform. The suit itself wasn't too different from her old office, though that was more distracting than she cared to admit. Small white cups resting on a field of dark gray. It felt far too striking of an image for someone like her. It seemed more like something a Color Fixer would wear. She quietly leaned back against the wall of the personnel carrier, trying to ease herself into her new role. She had never though to join a new office, having quietly acquiesced herself to an unattended death in the backstreets when her luck, or talent, ran out. Grade 5 Fixer
She briefly closed her eye, trying her best to enjoy what the two girls in the compartment considered music. There wasn't much accounting for taste. She took a moment to try to familiarize herself with being part of a group again. She let her senses wander as she hyped herself up to having be more personable again. The smell of sweat from the other members of the office mixed with the sharp twinge of metal. The rocking of the vehicle as it turned and twisted down roads. Just barely past the melodramatic singing of the two girls, the whine of the engine, the wheels churning up gravel and asphalt. They were slowing down, she noted just as the vehicle came to stop.
For a moment she smacked of nervousness. She understood that her appearance, regardless of whether she wearing her uniform or the suit she had kept her previous office, made her hard to approach for others. She briefly considered donning her E.G.O. gear to sooth herself but dismissed the idea. She needed to present herself as a professional that didn't need to hide behind her gear. Still, offices had stringent standards when compared to solo work, standards that would need to be met. Especially since this was more of a business' transaction for both parties, one that she needed to maintain. The door to the carrier opening pulled her from her thoughts as their enigmatic supervisor, Hydrangea, announced herself. Rainflower noted that their supervisor's tone could easily be interpreted as condescending before pushing those thoughts away. She needed to cooperate until they gave her a reason not to.
The musical duo disembarked first, with Rainflower quietly following them out. She stepped down on the street, her head craning to take in her surroundings. She still wasn't used to this new District. The familiar techno-obsessed buildings of K-Corp and the small rural villages that bordered them made a kind of sense to her, even if they were too disproportionate to others. There was some similarity in the colors, but the buildings felt too abstract to make sense to her. Absentmindedly, she allowed her hand to come up and rest on the hilt of her retractable baton, as if she was expecting an attack already. Looking back to their supervisor, she didn't exactly know what to say. Should she report in? Instead, a small smile passed over her lips as one of the other Fixers, adorned with a pair of immaculate glasses, attempted to hug Hydrangea.
If nothing else, this Office wasn't lacking in energy. She stepped closer to the trio, waiting for orders from their leader.
November Witch
Over great bodies of water, a November Witch roars
Bleeding Heart (Alba)
Status: Annoyed & bored
The ride couldn’t be over quick enough. It was cramped, a little too warm, and loud. She preferred hearing the engine and normal road noise. At least then, she could distract herself by attempting to discern if there was anything wrong with the engine from sound alone. Something really not possible, but Alba enjoyed the challenge nonetheless. Definitely more than two people filling the cabin with their incessant singing. Now, Alba wasn’t one to dislike music. In fact, it was one of the only things she cared enough about to be a daily consumer of. But with voices that weren’t anywhere near production worthy, it was something she would rather be tuned out of.
She was towards the end of the row, meaning in order to get out, she would need to wait on the others. Another small inconvenience. She would have much rather found her own transportation here than be stuck in an annoying metal box. Correction, stuck with the people inside the metal box. Just like how she would rather put some sort of flower into her pocket or on her hat. Instead she was made to wear this gaudy floral patterned shirt. She didn’t understand the point of dress codes, and looking professional and this sort of business culture.
What did it matter what someone looked like or what they wore if they could show good results? Why did it go so far as their names? Alba didn’t care if they used her real name, and in fact, wanted to. But no, apparently everyday is spirit day at this office. Names aside, sometimes it could be an advantage, in some cases, to look less professional. Either way, it wasn’t her decision, so she put it aside. Alba looked at the tablet in her hands and what she was typing into it. Notes on her current officemates. What she assumed their mental profiles to be like, what use they could bring to not only the office, but to Alba if she were to want them for something. Her opinions and thoughts on them, etc.
Finally, she felt the vehicle slow and stop. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the singing stopped and her office mates started to disembark. Once it was her turn, she stepped out onto the asphalt and breathed in a breath of fresh air. Well, as fresh as air could get here anyways. Making sure her EGO was secure atop her head, she simply leaned against the vibrating vehicle caused by the engine.
“I don’t think it’s possible for anyone in their right mind to fall asleep in there.”
She would reply to Hydrangeas thinly veiled threat. Her eyes would then fall on a girl who stood nearby. Silent and waiting for orders. So far, Alba enjoyed them. Well mannered, controlled energy and quiet. This gave her the inkling this girl was no stranger to work such as this. Maybe she had worked at another office. Maybe she had been a mercenary or in a syndicate before. Either way, Alba certainly put more faith in her than she did in the other two.
Alba looked back down at her tablet, typing something in. She’d get one of the easier people out of the way.
“Hey Rain.”
She called to the other girl and motioned for her to come over to Alba. Her eyes never left the tablet. If the other obliged to her request, she’d continue.
“What’s your blood type? Any medical conditions? If something happens and we get into a mess somewhere, this information may very well help me save you.”
Alba said. Still, her head was tilted down and her eyes never left the tablet. She might as well do something productive with their time at the moment. Besides, she knew the human anatomy inside and out, and had already basically considered herself the office’s field medic. No one had said they filled that role already, so she might as well fill it, and do her due diligence to be a competent one.
CatJones
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seasonedcat
bloodless
Rank 5 Fixer
Honey Locust
EGO: Thorns of Love
The Backstreets
Code by Serobliss
Autumn Leaf
Chrysalis, Metamorphosis, Genesis
Mentions: @ All
Location: District 12 Backstreets 'Zone - 04 Border'
Hydrangea strove to maintain professionalism and fairness across all her subordinates. In this regard, most knew the Supervisor as an overall friendly and upbeat woman. It was rare for her to pursue any physical contact with any employee. An action reserved only for disciplinary measure. But as acting senior officer, Hydrangea could make some exceptions. The woman couldn't help reciprocating the warm hug with a few light taps on Lupine's back before breaking away.
"Oh, you dazzling little sprout!~" the supervisor cooed, patting the colorless girl on the head. "You're welcome! Diligent employees should be rewarded!"
The woman continued to dote on the deluded monochromatic cupcake. Even as Rainflower silently stepped up from the side. The Supervisor acknowledge them with a polite nod.
Though Rainflower looked young, the solemn, contemplating fixer possessed a good few extra years of wisdom and growth than anyone else. Even herself. The written reports do not capture the distinct inquisitive mood in their expression. As if constantly looking for something more than what was present in the current situation.
The sharp-eyed woman noticed the next to step out of the transport, Alba. The first detail was her shirt being partially unbuttoned. This made Hydrangea to roll her eyes. Luckily, with the promise of free food, the viper was in a good enough mood to let it slide. This was a topic of contention the employee had brought up just minutes after signing into the office. As a fan of the fashion, Hydrangea took offense to the complaint. Naturally, Hydrangea was not the type to openly confront people. It would be too garish for her appeals. Instead, she basically granted the request of uniform deviation.
However, with one addendum. The flower-printed top remained. If she was to be left unsatisfied, so will Alba.
There were other concerning things to keep an eye on, with this particular employee. But so far, to Hydrangea, this was the biggest sore spot.
Meanwhile, Zi Hua scoffed at the comment made by Daisy.
"And what of your fake-ass smile? Anything to fix that?" he growled, folding his arms. "Besides. You should have consideration, runt. Have you taken a look around? The others look half-way towards despair. No doubt, by the wails you confuse for singing. I'm glad I wasn't assigned to your van."
"You're not much better, Zi Hua. Snorer. Loud. Hypocrite." muttered, Snowdrop who meekly picked up the edges of the decorate blue gown and dragged themselves next to Rainflower.
Not perhaps due to any notion of friendliness. The little one showed little true emotions, nor did they really attempt to get close to people in this way. They probably only did this, simply to away from the walking sleep siren that is Zi Hua. They might have just been nearest familiar sight that came into view.
His fists curled up, wildfire burning in his eyes. But a sinister glance from Hydrangea quickly changed his tune.
Zi Hua shook his head, "Well, since you're all busy wasting time gossiping. I'll keep perimeter watch. You know, something useful."
In a dramatic huff, he stepped off the side of the dirty road, away from the armored vans, and group of Wallflowers. His trajectory pointed towards the piles of discarded plastic refuse, towers of scrap and trash, and the scuttling individuals working underneath it all. "You better remember this display of initiative, for the assessment report. Supervisor."
Hydrangea snorted in retort, "Quite so! I'll remember to add it in. After the disruptive snoring, flagrant insults, and general aggressiveness. All telling initiatives, aren't they?"
Her eyes watched as Zi Hua dug into his pockets and produced a caltrop-shaped pill in his hand. With one sour look, he slapped it into his mouth and swallowed. Then was a sharp crack, and jump, he was already halfway up the side of a building that looked like the result of a recent artillery strike. A cement wedge of swiss cheese. Little difference existed between that, and the truth, being the aftermath of a battle with a stray abnormality and a local security office. Such sites like this were commonplace in this fallen District. A homeless taking shelter there let out an audible yelp, fleeing for their life upon seeing the Zi Hua's stormy expression.
From his perch, the man spat, a red glob landing on the streets below.
The Supervisor whipped her arm overhead in a twirling motion to get everyone's attention.
"Let him simmer. A bullfrog shouldn't sit at the negotiating table." Hydrangea glanced to the reclusive Wallflower entangled in the cloak of grim thorns, as though reminded by the notion. Honey Locust stood apart in more ways than just their ethereal appearance. While they resembled a delicate bloom, the prickly ward served more than a mere cautionary threat to those who dare indulge too closely. Even innocent passerbys would not be spared.
"Er. Maybe we should consider outdoor seating..."
With a snap of her finger, "Everyone, come, come! The quicker we get to the client, the quicker we eat!~ My, my, doesn't a steamy bowl of dumpling noodles sound absolutely divine?"
Her long legs kept grace, despite the uneven, battered ground of the backstreets. She descended steadily down a nearby, long bending stairway adjoined to the cement precipice. The steps took the Wallflowers past the torn iron railings acting like a makeshift fence, into an underpass located below the street level. Each portion lower appeared to get more crowded, filthy, and cramped. By the time they reached the glowing motion-sign of the cafe, it was almost pitch dark in the shadows of the looming industrial megaplexes. The skyline was barely visible, pinched under the maw of the bleak structures piercing upwards like cold, metal mountains. The only light to aid visibility were the sparse neon-lit signs.
They arrived at the doorstep, when the supervisor reached out to push the handle. A pause. Then, she stepped a few paces backwards.
A dark spot formed on the glass door. Rapidly growing larger. Suddenly -- SMASH
Straight through the window, a ragged body was thrown. Shards and blood splattered outward, as the corpse landed at the feet of the Wallflowers.
The commotion only got more hectic from there, as dozens of shadows began roaring within the little cafe. At least a dozen gang-members began clamoring within the shop, armed to the tooth with improvised pipes, scrap blades, and rusted shivs. The moved like a pack of frenzied wild dogs snapping their jaws. The break caused by the flung body momentarily revealed their cornered prey. A single man with a dust of gray in his hair, dressed in casual streets wear. The bright yellow bucket hat looked especially silly when the eyes flanked with crows feet gazed out at the gang of assaulters. His hammer however, seemed expertly crafted, possessing ornate design. The carved head, resembling a lion, was blooded, indicating the fresh corpse outside was by his doing.
"Nest-nurtured swine!" One of the gang yelled, slamming his weapon, "Thought you could hide? All of you vultures stink of rot! Frolicking on the carcasses of innocents!"
Other victims inside cowered underneath their tables in fear, as the tide of ruffians swooped forward. A blade dug deep into his shoulder, the mysterious fighter letting out a cry before swatting another away. Despite his clear skill at bearing arms, the sheer overwhelming assault will break any amount of martial defense.
From where the Wallflowers stood, even more and more seemed to be spawning from every crevice and alleyway. It looked like even measly civilians with just spare, dented pots joined along in the violent call-to-action.
"There, the client. Prioritize protecting them." Hydrangea ordered, "Kill enough rats, and soon enough, these cowardly things will scurry."
The woman immediately began to surge forward, almost too fast to recognize. Her slender form wobbled and wavered. It almost looked like a perplexing dance, until one realized the motion was anything but natural. Her limbs contorted and flexed, elongating almost. Similar to how a snake weaved through grass. The heels of her long stilettos took on the shape of flamberge blades. A glimpse of E.G.O. Glowing pink acid spilled from elongated fangs in her mouth. Several screamed, clawing at melting wounds caused by lacerations. They fell dead by the time she reached the entrapped V.I.P. She glanced at his shoulder, while running an edged heel through an overzealous attacker with a kick. Before she even reclined her foot, they were already a pink puddle on the floor.
The rusty knife was still imbedded where it struck the client. The bleeding was somewhat staunched. Still, the blood patch was growing in all the movement and commotion. But there was no time to lick wounds. Plenty more biting, snarling rodents came swooping to replace those lost in the bloody frenzy.
And there was also the issue of the growing mob outside. "Those fixers are helping that corporate vulture! Scum-drinkers! Traitors! Kill them all! Purify the District!"
Somewhere in the swarming mass, a sizeable group of younger groupie-looking females pointed a nail bat at Daisy. They wore band-tees with logos of a young angelic figure striking a pose. "And doesn't that bitch resemble that shitty popstar? Everywhere I hear that racket for music! All the damn time!" her cheap-lipstick smile darkened, "Girls, let's tear into this poser."
They were among the first to raise weapons and charge, followed by a bodily wave.
Unfortunately, any lunch plans would have to be delayed. It was time for the Wallflowers to tend to business.
Location: District 12 Backstreets 'Zone - 04 Border'
...
Hydrangea strove to maintain professionalism and fairness across all her subordinates. In this regard, most knew the Supervisor as an overall friendly and upbeat woman. It was rare for her to pursue any physical contact with any employee. An action reserved only for disciplinary measure. But as acting senior officer, Hydrangea could make some exceptions. The woman couldn't help reciprocating the warm hug with a few light taps on Lupine's back before breaking away.
"Oh, you dazzling little sprout!~" the supervisor cooed, patting the colorless girl on the head. "You're welcome! Diligent employees should be rewarded!"
The woman continued to dote on the deluded monochromatic cupcake. Even as Rainflower silently stepped up from the side. The Supervisor acknowledge them with a polite nod.
Though Rainflower looked young, the solemn, contemplating fixer possessed a good few extra years of wisdom and growth than anyone else. Even herself. The written reports do not capture the distinct inquisitive mood in their expression. As if constantly looking for something more than what was present in the current situation.
The sharp-eyed woman noticed the next to step out of the transport, Alba. The first detail was her shirt being partially unbuttoned. This made Hydrangea to roll her eyes. Luckily, with the promise of free food, the viper was in a good enough mood to let it slide. This was a topic of contention the employee had brought up just minutes after signing into the office. As a fan of the fashion, Hydrangea took offense to the complaint. Naturally, Hydrangea was not the type to openly confront people. It would be too garish for her appeals. Instead, she basically granted the request of uniform deviation.
However, with one addendum. The flower-printed top remained. If she was to be left unsatisfied, so will Alba.
There were other concerning things to keep an eye on, with this particular employee. But so far, to Hydrangea, this was the biggest sore spot.
“Oh, Zi Hua! You should get some tomatoes over those eyes of yours. Heard that helps crazy with eyebags like yours.”
Meanwhile, Zi Hua scoffed at the comment made by Daisy.
"And what of your fake-ass smile? Anything to fix that?" he growled, folding his arms. "Besides. You should have consideration, runt. Have you taken a look around? The others look half-way towards despair. No doubt, by the wails you confuse for singing. I'm glad I wasn't assigned to your van."
"You're not much better, Zi Hua. Snorer. Loud. Hypocrite." muttered, Snowdrop who meekly picked up the edges of the decorate blue gown and dragged themselves next to Rainflower.
Not perhaps due to any notion of friendliness. The little one showed little true emotions, nor did they really attempt to get close to people in this way. They probably only did this, simply to away from the walking sleep siren that is Zi Hua. They might have just been nearest familiar sight that came into view.
His fists curled up, wildfire burning in his eyes. But a sinister glance from Hydrangea quickly changed his tune.
Zi Hua shook his head, "Well, since you're all busy wasting time gossiping. I'll keep perimeter watch. You know, something useful."
In a dramatic huff, he stepped off the side of the dirty road, away from the armored vans, and group of Wallflowers. His trajectory pointed towards the piles of discarded plastic refuse, towers of scrap and trash, and the scuttling individuals working underneath it all. "You better remember this display of initiative, for the assessment report. Supervisor."
Hydrangea snorted in retort, "Quite so! I'll remember to add it in. After the disruptive snoring, flagrant insults, and general aggressiveness. All telling initiatives, aren't they?"
Her eyes watched as Zi Hua dug into his pockets and produced a caltrop-shaped pill in his hand. With one sour look, he slapped it into his mouth and swallowed. Then was a sharp crack, and jump, he was already halfway up the side of a building that looked like the result of a recent artillery strike. A cement wedge of swiss cheese. Little difference existed between that, and the truth, being the aftermath of a battle with a stray abnormality and a local security office. Such sites like this were commonplace in this fallen District. A homeless taking shelter there let out an audible yelp, fleeing for their life upon seeing the Zi Hua's stormy expression.
From his perch, the man spat, a red glob landing on the streets below.
The Supervisor whipped her arm overhead in a twirling motion to get everyone's attention.
"Let him simmer. A bullfrog shouldn't sit at the negotiating table." Hydrangea glanced to the reclusive Wallflower entangled in the cloak of grim thorns, as though reminded by the notion. Honey Locust stood apart in more ways than just their ethereal appearance. While they resembled a delicate bloom, the prickly ward served more than a mere cautionary threat to those who dare indulge too closely. Even innocent passerbys would not be spared.
"Er. Maybe we should consider outdoor seating..."
With a snap of her finger, "Everyone, come, come! The quicker we get to the client, the quicker we eat!~ My, my, doesn't a steamy bowl of dumpling noodles sound absolutely divine?"
Her long legs kept grace, despite the uneven, battered ground of the backstreets. She descended steadily down a nearby, long bending stairway adjoined to the cement precipice. The steps took the Wallflowers past the torn iron railings acting like a makeshift fence, into an underpass located below the street level. Each portion lower appeared to get more crowded, filthy, and cramped. By the time they reached the glowing motion-sign of the cafe, it was almost pitch dark in the shadows of the looming industrial megaplexes. The skyline was barely visible, pinched under the maw of the bleak structures piercing upwards like cold, metal mountains. The only light to aid visibility were the sparse neon-lit signs.
They arrived at the doorstep, when the supervisor reached out to push the handle. A pause. Then, she stepped a few paces backwards.
A dark spot formed on the glass door. Rapidly growing larger. Suddenly -- SMASH
Straight through the window, a ragged body was thrown. Shards and blood splattered outward, as the corpse landed at the feet of the Wallflowers.
The commotion only got more hectic from there, as dozens of shadows began roaring within the little cafe. At least a dozen gang-members began clamoring within the shop, armed to the tooth with improvised pipes, scrap blades, and rusted shivs. The moved like a pack of frenzied wild dogs snapping their jaws. The break caused by the flung body momentarily revealed their cornered prey. A single man with a dust of gray in his hair, dressed in casual streets wear. The bright yellow bucket hat looked especially silly when the eyes flanked with crows feet gazed out at the gang of assaulters. His hammer however, seemed expertly crafted, possessing ornate design. The carved head, resembling a lion, was blooded, indicating the fresh corpse outside was by his doing.
"Nest-nurtured swine!" One of the gang yelled, slamming his weapon, "Thought you could hide? All of you vultures stink of rot! Frolicking on the carcasses of innocents!"
Other victims inside cowered underneath their tables in fear, as the tide of ruffians swooped forward. A blade dug deep into his shoulder, the mysterious fighter letting out a cry before swatting another away. Despite his clear skill at bearing arms, the sheer overwhelming assault will break any amount of martial defense.
From where the Wallflowers stood, even more and more seemed to be spawning from every crevice and alleyway. It looked like even measly civilians with just spare, dented pots joined along in the violent call-to-action.
"There, the client. Prioritize protecting them." Hydrangea ordered, "Kill enough rats, and soon enough, these cowardly things will scurry."
The woman immediately began to surge forward, almost too fast to recognize. Her slender form wobbled and wavered. It almost looked like a perplexing dance, until one realized the motion was anything but natural. Her limbs contorted and flexed, elongating almost. Similar to how a snake weaved through grass. The heels of her long stilettos took on the shape of flamberge blades. A glimpse of E.G.O. Glowing pink acid spilled from elongated fangs in her mouth. Several screamed, clawing at melting wounds caused by lacerations. They fell dead by the time she reached the entrapped V.I.P. She glanced at his shoulder, while running an edged heel through an overzealous attacker with a kick. Before she even reclined her foot, they were already a pink puddle on the floor.
The rusty knife was still imbedded where it struck the client. The bleeding was somewhat staunched. Still, the blood patch was growing in all the movement and commotion. But there was no time to lick wounds. Plenty more biting, snarling rodents came swooping to replace those lost in the bloody frenzy.
And there was also the issue of the growing mob outside. "Those fixers are helping that corporate vulture! Scum-drinkers! Traitors! Kill them all! Purify the District!"
Somewhere in the swarming mass, a sizeable group of younger groupie-looking females pointed a nail bat at Daisy. They wore band-tees with logos of a young angelic figure striking a pose. "And doesn't that bitch resemble that shitty popstar? Everywhere I hear that racket for music! All the damn time!" her cheap-lipstick smile darkened, "Girls, let's tear into this poser."
They were among the first to raise weapons and charge, followed by a bodily wave.
Unfortunately, any lunch plans would have to be delayed. It was time for the Wallflowers to tend to business.
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Juju
PREY-FOR-US
Rank 5 Fixer
Lupine
EGO: Rose-Tinted Reverie
Murder Café
Code by Serobliss
ERode
In The Mirror
“My smile?”
Daisy tilted her head to the side coyly, placing her middle fingers on either ends of her lips.
“That’s the ten thousand year old art of the idol, Zi Hua. A warp beam straight to your heart!” As if defying logic and the limits of the human facial structure and definitions of cuteness, the platinum-blonde girl grinned even wider, winking with one eye before shooting a finger gun towards her colleague…who at that point was already picking fights with others before dramatically leaping off to do perimeter watch.
Which was really kinda funny, considering how that fundamentally meant that, exactly three seconds after they descended down the stairway to deeper portions of the District, a thriving, cozy portion illuminated by neon lights tinged with nostalgia and lost romance, a body flew out through the door of the café they were eating at, and Zi Hua was nowhere at all to be seen assisting in this. How could he, after all? Perimeter watch over the surface? When everything happening could just as easily only happen in the underlayers?
To no one in particular, Daisy only dramatically shrugged, before concluding, “What is he, stupid?”
Alas, time didn’t pause for comedic timing, and in the amount of time Daisy spent on her antics towards an invisible audience, she garnered an actual audience too. Dirt-stained backstreets girls deviated from the mob’s plans of throwing their lives away at the altar of EGO-equipped mid-grade Fixers and decided to pick on a weakling instead, and to that very personal threat to her own life, all she could do in response was…
Strike the same pose that was on the groupies’ t-shirts, before sticking her tongue out at them.
Provocation, successful!
And with that singular link of hatred binding them together, Daisy began her usual song and dance, shimmying and skipping and diving and rolling all over the place as a small army of not-adoring-because-she-wasn’t-crazy-like-Lupine-was fans practically went head-over-heels swinging their weapons at her while wholly disregarding their environment.
With an environment consisting mostly of poorly-armored, poorly-coordinated rats, it was clear who’d end up suffering the most from the Fixer’s continued incitements towards bodily harm.
CatJones
Amateur Weeb
"Hey, Rain."
The words, spoken by one of the other people that had been on the same transport as her, whom had been more quiet then the two 'singers', drew her attention away from the offices supervisor. The other woman, Alba, was similar to their officemates in that she was equally young. If her memory served there was maybe a five year age gap at most between the other fixers. Most of them were of an equal Fixer grade, too. Rainflower briefly wondered if she was a late bloomer for being the same rank and in her thirties. Or if they were all wunderkind. The following question Alba presented sent a cold shiver up her spine. She disliked being asked about herself by someone she had just barely met. Age aside, she was as far as she knew, the most junior member of the office. Her singular eye narrowed in disapproval.
"Don't you think that you should have asked those questions while we were in transit?" She began, noting that their supervisor and team were already moving on ahead to the clients meeting point, as if to stress her point. Still, cooperation was a must when on the job so she set aside her personal disagreement with both the question and the timing of it.
"AB+, and I've had carpal tunnel in the past, when I did desk work for about a year." She answered as she began to follow behind the rest of their office. She suppressed any lingering emotional response to thinking back to that time, her teeth clamping down on the inner section of her lower lip, only the smallest inward tuck of said lip showing that her stony expression was breaking. She distracted herself with emptying her mind and following the group, ignoring what they were saying for the time being. Hydrangea stopped at the door. From her position in the back, Rainflower couldn't make out her expression but could guess what was going through her mind.
An ambush?
Hydrangea took a few a steps back just before the window of the cafe exploded outward. Rainflower was used to jobs going sideways and didn't even flinch as a few shards of glass bounced off her uniform and face. Nice thing about only having one eye was it halved the chances of getting something in it. She quickly tried to get a total headcount on the number of assailants, her previous offices training kicking in involuntarily. At minimum, a dozen. Hydrangea announced the teams simple objective.
"There, the client. Prioritize protecting them. Kill enough rats, and soon enough, these cowardly things will scurry."
Lupine and Daisy, having followed closer to the supervisor were first into the fray. Lupine, despite her ramblings, was an effective fighter. Her methodology was on point, utilizing the violence of action to end the engagement quickly and neatly. It was a paramount to shut down a fight before the opponent could use their reflexes to regain their composure. Especially when fighting against superior numbers, if you didn't keep the enemy on the backfoot and allowed the violence of your action to get bogged down into a blow trading match, even a fixer could get pulled down by the sheer numerical weight of blows aimed at them.
Daisy, on the other hand, left plenty to be desired in Rainflowers opinion. She was an accomplished baiter, having drawn the ire of several of the opposing force to targeting her exclusively, and her evasion was top notch. At that point it became a time based problem. If given enough time, they could wear themselves out and decrease their total combat capability but the reverse side of the coin was that the opponent could have better stamina the anticipated. Rats or not, entering any fight thinking you have the upper hand was an easy way to end the day with your brain matter painting a landscape on the wall. At least it made it obvious who Rainflower should support.
The sound of metal scraping against metal as her baton extended, the crunch of glass under her shoes, the yells of several civilians and assailants, the smell of coffee, fresh baked bread. Rainflower moved into the bakery with a steady gait, sliding closer to the one of the many focusing on Daisy. With their attention on the younger girl, Rainflower didn't have to adopt a fighting stance. Grabbing a handful of sweaty, matted hair, she simply used his momentum from a mistimed swing towards Daisy to aid his face into the lip of a wood table. A quick downward arching swing to the chin from her baton before they could stand back up left them sprawled out on the floor.
She shifted neatly, noting that one of Daisy's other attackers, one of the girls with a nailed bat, was already moving to take a swing towards Rainflowers head. Without enough time to adopt a better stance, Rainflower simply ducked the attack. The blow passed overhead as Rainflower sprung up, driving the point of her baton in the girls solar plexus. Air rushed out of the girls lungs, leaving her doubled over as Rainflower brought her baton down on the back of her neck. She checked over her shoulder, making sure the client was still safe. If nothing else, this office had a decent plan for protection work, ad hoc as it was.
Mothman
A moth, and also a man
It almost felt like home, getting trapped in a armored car like this. Lots like the Day Room, filled to the brim with chronically minded weirdos engaging in their antics. Though, instead of old men reminiscing on the war and people with stutters that made getting a word out a five minute long process, this vehicle was filled with people that seemed to mostly belong to two camps.
One: The musically minded. It was hard to follow their bodies in the fog that swirled around the car, or perhaps more apt, her eyes trying to view the car, that moved like it was trapped in a snowglobe and swirling around each time they took a turn or hit a bump in the road. Though, that fog sure didn't stop her from hearing it, but it was easy enough to tune out. Reminded her of that godsdamned radio they'd play back in the Day Room. Just barely too loud to focus well, and the nurses would never turn it down no matter how much you asked. They said it was to be considerate of those hard of hearing who had nothing else to enjoy, who were wheelchair bound or worse... But that was probably just as bullshit as everything else they said.
Two: The many others in the vehicle who didn't look like they wanted to be here even a little. The one-eyed one, and that one with the thorns that dragged around their neck. They didn't speak, and while she didn't get much of a chance to eyeball them and discern much about them from foggy mannerisms alone, the aura they gave was enough for her to establish that they were both, at the very least, less than conversationalists. The click-clack of the only other in the car's fingers against a screened tablet drove her attention there for some of the drive. Though, seated opposite from the woman, despite the way the light of the device cleared the fog just somewhat, she couldn't discern anything about what they were typing. They seemed perceptive enough, though what they were looking for from the others was difficult enough to discern. She only hoped that woman couldn't see; couldn't hear the occassional click of a rusty gear in her arm, or the slight buzz of the machinery in her chest. She doubted it, considering the rugged terrain they were driving and the size of the vehicle, paired with the musical performance around them, but it still made her just nervous enough for the hairs on her neck to twitch.
It made a fine enough balance, she supposed. A little bit of chicancery from the two ladies doing their show, and a little bit of reservedness from the others in the car. Judging from Hydrangea's demeanor when she signed her paperwork and sorted that matter out, she belonged more to the first camp. Didn't make any different to her, she supposed.
The ride was filled mostly with silence and eyes mostly in her lap. If she were spoken to, her head would turn to face, but with the antics of the others in the car, she doubted that would be happening. When the acrobatic one grew close enough that she could more properly follow her figure through the fog, she would watch on the basis that there was nothing else to busy oneself with. Didn't help that being 6'7" meant sitting in the car wasn't exactly easy; she was just about forced to lean forward anyways. Here and there, her hand would drift down to her hip and fuss with the rope of the hook she carried around.
In due time, though, the vehicle lurched to a halt. Despite her seating in the middle of the vehicle, she let all the others out before her, gesturing for the others with a silent wave of her arm. Last thing they needed was a giant traipsing over them and stepping on toes. When she finally climbed out from the back of the car, a hand on the top of the exitway, she rocked the vehicle just a smidge before her weight hit the dirt with a thunk. She approached the others who were getting direction from Hydrangea, staying silent in the briefing and at the offer of free lunch. She wasn't about to get too excited over backstreets food, but at the same time, she'd never complain.
There was only a nod at her superior's briefing and direction to move out, and she kept up a spot at the back of the group. If her attire was more black, maybe with an earpiece and a nice tie, she'd be a shoo-in for a role as some politician's bodyguard or a bouncer at a high-end club, but the flowery blazer and built-to-match slacks, custom made to fit even a huge woman like herself, only seemed to clash against the demeanor of a woman that clearly didn't give a damned about style and appearances. At least Hydrangea got to have a Fixer that didn't fuss about any of the odd uniform choices or other professionalisms; just a nod of the head and the occassional "Yes'm" to avoid fully referring to her as ma'am.
------
She ducked beneath an overhanging pipe over the stairway downwards that would've thunked her in the forehead and continued following the group to a small enough eatery that seemed to serve as where they'd be meeting their clientele to discuss further business. It was common enough that she be present for negotiations and matters of that nature as anything less than muscle to oversee that things went smoothly, and that was fine with her. If Hydrangea or any other member of the group were to turn to her and ask her opinion, they'd likely only be met with a shrug of the shoulders and some passive response that didn't give much to chew on.
When a body flew out from the window, splintering glass onto the shoulders and hair of some of those closer to the window, she only let out a sigh and raised her hands to 'crack' her knuckles. It was more of a metallic scrape, but the gesture merely made her feel ready to rumble. She thought back to the words of a now gone companion:
If something'll go wrong in this shithole of a City, Chief, trust me that it will. You'se just got to be ready for it.
And ready for it she was. Most of the others funneled through the door at Hydrangea's command to protect the man in the back of the small establishment, but Calendula instead stepped over the deceased body and stepped over the windowsill. That door'd have been too short, but the window had plenty of height that she could step into the room without too much hassle. While there was a curved hook at her side, and an out of place broom over her back, she didn't reach for it or seem to even consider it.
Two men in the room charged her immediately. One had a set of jagged blades, rusted and brown with age and use, and the other a large metal pipe meant for bludgeoning skulls, if she had to take a guess. A shorter fella, scrawny and very fitting of the 'rat' title, while the other reminded her more of a bear. A big, dumb, stupid bear.
The little man charged her first, hucking one of the knives at her center of mass before leaping across a table to try and drive the knife into her neck. While the man's accuracy was surprisingly effective, the knife merely clanked off of the floral print of Calendula's blazer rather than digging into flesh. It cluttered to the ground with a thunk, the man still in transit through the air. A thick arm raised in the air and caught the man by the throat, and an attempt to stab into her shoulder and twist was met with a similar fate; clanking off of the arm and merely succeeding at gashing into the cloth. The heavy grip on his throat began to choke life out of him, amidst a cacophany of gasping and gagging on the air he was trying to suck down.
The bear advanced to rescue his fellow rat, swinging the pipe overhead in an attempt to aim for a fleshier, more organic vital point for the warrior. With a swipe of the scrawny Rat to the side, the pipe only met with the back of his neck instead. He went limp, eyes going empty and rolling backwards from the impact. An instant kill? No, probably not from a blow like that. But an incapacitation it certainly was. There was nothing else to gain from him, and as such, Calendula dropped the man's motionless body with an exhale.
Then was the second man. She lunged forward, hammering a balled fist into the man's stomach. Some combination of spit and vomit shot out of the man as something beyond a fist met with a mix of rib and organ, splashing over the shoulder of her Wallflower uniform. As the man doubled over from the impact, a second punch met with jawbone and sent him sprawling out onto the ground, body splashing against a table and thudding down to the tile floor with a grunt.
With that, she cleared the rest of the small room as more bastards crowded into the room, stepping besides Hydrangea and the glasses-wearing one. At least those glasses stuck out, even in the fog, as did Hydrangea compared to others. Maybe it was the click of those high heels she was following more than the actual visage of her supervisor, but at the end of the day, she was there. The three now crowded around the VIP, Calendula facing towards the rest of the room, she took only a brief glance back at the man. "Behind us. Nothing else." She shot a quick look as to where she believed Hydrangea to be amidst the spiraling of the fog, each impact, dash, and falling body shooting it around like snow in a snowglobe. With limited vision, she would remain posted nearby Hydrangea, unless the woman pointed her ahead to deal with a specific problem. Until then, each man trying to get close would be met with the hammering fists she brandished and knocked into next week.
She wracked her brain on what else could go wrong, and glanced behind the group of them. A backroom, perhaps? Surely not, she hoped, but she couldn't see farther than the VIP from her position in the fog. Her ears twitched, and she told herself she'd try and keep focused for some would-be assassain to slink out from the back entrance or the staff room to try and drive a knife, bolt, or even a bullet into the VIP. She'd be there, and she'd be ready.
One: The musically minded. It was hard to follow their bodies in the fog that swirled around the car, or perhaps more apt, her eyes trying to view the car, that moved like it was trapped in a snowglobe and swirling around each time they took a turn or hit a bump in the road. Though, that fog sure didn't stop her from hearing it, but it was easy enough to tune out. Reminded her of that godsdamned radio they'd play back in the Day Room. Just barely too loud to focus well, and the nurses would never turn it down no matter how much you asked. They said it was to be considerate of those hard of hearing who had nothing else to enjoy, who were wheelchair bound or worse... But that was probably just as bullshit as everything else they said.
Two: The many others in the vehicle who didn't look like they wanted to be here even a little. The one-eyed one, and that one with the thorns that dragged around their neck. They didn't speak, and while she didn't get much of a chance to eyeball them and discern much about them from foggy mannerisms alone, the aura they gave was enough for her to establish that they were both, at the very least, less than conversationalists. The click-clack of the only other in the car's fingers against a screened tablet drove her attention there for some of the drive. Though, seated opposite from the woman, despite the way the light of the device cleared the fog just somewhat, she couldn't discern anything about what they were typing. They seemed perceptive enough, though what they were looking for from the others was difficult enough to discern. She only hoped that woman couldn't see; couldn't hear the occassional click of a rusty gear in her arm, or the slight buzz of the machinery in her chest. She doubted it, considering the rugged terrain they were driving and the size of the vehicle, paired with the musical performance around them, but it still made her just nervous enough for the hairs on her neck to twitch.
It made a fine enough balance, she supposed. A little bit of chicancery from the two ladies doing their show, and a little bit of reservedness from the others in the car. Judging from Hydrangea's demeanor when she signed her paperwork and sorted that matter out, she belonged more to the first camp. Didn't make any different to her, she supposed.
The ride was filled mostly with silence and eyes mostly in her lap. If she were spoken to, her head would turn to face, but with the antics of the others in the car, she doubted that would be happening. When the acrobatic one grew close enough that she could more properly follow her figure through the fog, she would watch on the basis that there was nothing else to busy oneself with. Didn't help that being 6'7" meant sitting in the car wasn't exactly easy; she was just about forced to lean forward anyways. Here and there, her hand would drift down to her hip and fuss with the rope of the hook she carried around.
In due time, though, the vehicle lurched to a halt. Despite her seating in the middle of the vehicle, she let all the others out before her, gesturing for the others with a silent wave of her arm. Last thing they needed was a giant traipsing over them and stepping on toes. When she finally climbed out from the back of the car, a hand on the top of the exitway, she rocked the vehicle just a smidge before her weight hit the dirt with a thunk. She approached the others who were getting direction from Hydrangea, staying silent in the briefing and at the offer of free lunch. She wasn't about to get too excited over backstreets food, but at the same time, she'd never complain.
There was only a nod at her superior's briefing and direction to move out, and she kept up a spot at the back of the group. If her attire was more black, maybe with an earpiece and a nice tie, she'd be a shoo-in for a role as some politician's bodyguard or a bouncer at a high-end club, but the flowery blazer and built-to-match slacks, custom made to fit even a huge woman like herself, only seemed to clash against the demeanor of a woman that clearly didn't give a damned about style and appearances. At least Hydrangea got to have a Fixer that didn't fuss about any of the odd uniform choices or other professionalisms; just a nod of the head and the occassional "Yes'm" to avoid fully referring to her as ma'am.
------
She ducked beneath an overhanging pipe over the stairway downwards that would've thunked her in the forehead and continued following the group to a small enough eatery that seemed to serve as where they'd be meeting their clientele to discuss further business. It was common enough that she be present for negotiations and matters of that nature as anything less than muscle to oversee that things went smoothly, and that was fine with her. If Hydrangea or any other member of the group were to turn to her and ask her opinion, they'd likely only be met with a shrug of the shoulders and some passive response that didn't give much to chew on.
When a body flew out from the window, splintering glass onto the shoulders and hair of some of those closer to the window, she only let out a sigh and raised her hands to 'crack' her knuckles. It was more of a metallic scrape, but the gesture merely made her feel ready to rumble. She thought back to the words of a now gone companion:
If something'll go wrong in this shithole of a City, Chief, trust me that it will. You'se just got to be ready for it.
And ready for it she was. Most of the others funneled through the door at Hydrangea's command to protect the man in the back of the small establishment, but Calendula instead stepped over the deceased body and stepped over the windowsill. That door'd have been too short, but the window had plenty of height that she could step into the room without too much hassle. While there was a curved hook at her side, and an out of place broom over her back, she didn't reach for it or seem to even consider it.
Two men in the room charged her immediately. One had a set of jagged blades, rusted and brown with age and use, and the other a large metal pipe meant for bludgeoning skulls, if she had to take a guess. A shorter fella, scrawny and very fitting of the 'rat' title, while the other reminded her more of a bear. A big, dumb, stupid bear.
The little man charged her first, hucking one of the knives at her center of mass before leaping across a table to try and drive the knife into her neck. While the man's accuracy was surprisingly effective, the knife merely clanked off of the floral print of Calendula's blazer rather than digging into flesh. It cluttered to the ground with a thunk, the man still in transit through the air. A thick arm raised in the air and caught the man by the throat, and an attempt to stab into her shoulder and twist was met with a similar fate; clanking off of the arm and merely succeeding at gashing into the cloth. The heavy grip on his throat began to choke life out of him, amidst a cacophany of gasping and gagging on the air he was trying to suck down.
The bear advanced to rescue his fellow rat, swinging the pipe overhead in an attempt to aim for a fleshier, more organic vital point for the warrior. With a swipe of the scrawny Rat to the side, the pipe only met with the back of his neck instead. He went limp, eyes going empty and rolling backwards from the impact. An instant kill? No, probably not from a blow like that. But an incapacitation it certainly was. There was nothing else to gain from him, and as such, Calendula dropped the man's motionless body with an exhale.
Then was the second man. She lunged forward, hammering a balled fist into the man's stomach. Some combination of spit and vomit shot out of the man as something beyond a fist met with a mix of rib and organ, splashing over the shoulder of her Wallflower uniform. As the man doubled over from the impact, a second punch met with jawbone and sent him sprawling out onto the ground, body splashing against a table and thudding down to the tile floor with a grunt.
With that, she cleared the rest of the small room as more bastards crowded into the room, stepping besides Hydrangea and the glasses-wearing one. At least those glasses stuck out, even in the fog, as did Hydrangea compared to others. Maybe it was the click of those high heels she was following more than the actual visage of her supervisor, but at the end of the day, she was there. The three now crowded around the VIP, Calendula facing towards the rest of the room, she took only a brief glance back at the man. "Behind us. Nothing else." She shot a quick look as to where she believed Hydrangea to be amidst the spiraling of the fog, each impact, dash, and falling body shooting it around like snow in a snowglobe. With limited vision, she would remain posted nearby Hydrangea, unless the woman pointed her ahead to deal with a specific problem. Until then, each man trying to get close would be met with the hammering fists she brandished and knocked into next week.
She wracked her brain on what else could go wrong, and glanced behind the group of them. A backroom, perhaps? Surely not, she hoped, but she couldn't see farther than the VIP from her position in the fog. Her ears twitched, and she told herself she'd try and keep focused for some would-be assassain to slink out from the back entrance or the staff room to try and drive a knife, bolt, or even a bullet into the VIP. She'd be there, and she'd be ready.
dreadnought
The enlightened one
The ride over to the café was mostly uneventful by Wisteria's standards once she let herself get fully absorbed in a couple of sketches that had been occupying her mind for the longest time and were desperately begging for her to be put onto paper. As she did so the outside world soon faded away from her mind as she got to work drawing up detailed outlines of what appeared to be some four-legged creature living the slowly forming background of a cave system. Such a thing was pretty simple to her self proclaimed masterpieces but it was a better way to occupy the time compared to staring out of the window at whatever uninteresting view that passed by as the car drove towards its destination or take part in whatever her colleagues were doing that they were trying to pass off as singing which was slowly starting to get on her nerves as the ride went on as it started to tear apart at her current concentration.
When she was practically forced into joining yet another fixer office, she wasn't all too thrilled about being shackled once more to someone but it at least it gave her a better excuse to fuel her sudden bursts of inspiration on whatever poor sod that got in her way and not get labelled as some 'crazed killer' in the process. The dress code she was forced to follow also got on her nerves with how it clashed with her usual wardrobe, or what was left with it after coming to the district anyways, but she managed to work within the confines of it in the form of the black blazer that featured several vines of wisteria flowers running down along it which went on to replace her usual black jacket that she much preferred to wear but beggars couldn't be choosers when the other options were to wear something as tacky that the woman with the witch hat was wearing or get literally fired by the mystery manager of wallflower. Still though it wouldn't have hurt to pay her at least a little bit more considering her life was on the line here but something told her that asking for a negotiation was more than likely to get her meagre pay docked over anything so she'd keep such thoughts to herself for now as the car finally rolled to a stop at its destination, or at least as far as the armoured car could take them all anyways as they all started stepping out of the car and followed Hydrangea's lead to the café she was raving about.
After quickly exiting the vehicle in order to avoid any chances of undeservingly earning herself a headache from the two wannabe singers, Wisteria quickly worked to quickly put her stuff away into her bag filled with her personal supplies while her eyes occasionally wandered across her surroundings which weren't anything remarkable by any means but given how lawless the district had become after the fall of its wing it wasn't much a surprise. The café on the hand actually looked like a pretty decent place to eat at almost like a diamond in the rough compared to everything else she's seen but of course that had to be quickly ruined too as a corpse was sent flying through the front window as hell broke lose.
She neither felt like accidentally burning down the café along with the supposed V.I.P and her colleagues that charged in to save him before he was beaten into a bloody pulp nor did she want to end up getting knocked around on all sides by the mob growing on both sides so she opted to stay outside and kill anyone that tried getting anywhere near the café as she immediately flipped open the ignition cap as she unsheathed her sabre before pressing down the button while she sprinted towards the nearest civilian, soon to be victim, provided that they didn't start running away from such a sight.
"Never had this many live subjects to express my artistic freedom on but if you're going to oh so generously throw yourselves at me then I may as well respond in kind and savour whatever lovely expressions your faces make in death. I still have a large backlog of ideas that I need to get through and you guys are looking like the perfect bits of inspiration to really make feel motivated!"
She'd say with a widening grin as she joined in the fray feeling a lot more eager for someone who just found themselves trapped within an ambush should have been feeling.
When she was practically forced into joining yet another fixer office, she wasn't all too thrilled about being shackled once more to someone but it at least it gave her a better excuse to fuel her sudden bursts of inspiration on whatever poor sod that got in her way and not get labelled as some 'crazed killer' in the process. The dress code she was forced to follow also got on her nerves with how it clashed with her usual wardrobe, or what was left with it after coming to the district anyways, but she managed to work within the confines of it in the form of the black blazer that featured several vines of wisteria flowers running down along it which went on to replace her usual black jacket that she much preferred to wear but beggars couldn't be choosers when the other options were to wear something as tacky that the woman with the witch hat was wearing or get literally fired by the mystery manager of wallflower. Still though it wouldn't have hurt to pay her at least a little bit more considering her life was on the line here but something told her that asking for a negotiation was more than likely to get her meagre pay docked over anything so she'd keep such thoughts to herself for now as the car finally rolled to a stop at its destination, or at least as far as the armoured car could take them all anyways as they all started stepping out of the car and followed Hydrangea's lead to the café she was raving about.
After quickly exiting the vehicle in order to avoid any chances of undeservingly earning herself a headache from the two wannabe singers, Wisteria quickly worked to quickly put her stuff away into her bag filled with her personal supplies while her eyes occasionally wandered across her surroundings which weren't anything remarkable by any means but given how lawless the district had become after the fall of its wing it wasn't much a surprise. The café on the hand actually looked like a pretty decent place to eat at almost like a diamond in the rough compared to everything else she's seen but of course that had to be quickly ruined too as a corpse was sent flying through the front window as hell broke lose.
She neither felt like accidentally burning down the café along with the supposed V.I.P and her colleagues that charged in to save him before he was beaten into a bloody pulp nor did she want to end up getting knocked around on all sides by the mob growing on both sides so she opted to stay outside and kill anyone that tried getting anywhere near the café as she immediately flipped open the ignition cap as she unsheathed her sabre before pressing down the button while she sprinted towards the nearest civilian, soon to be victim, provided that they didn't start running away from such a sight.
"Never had this many live subjects to express my artistic freedom on but if you're going to oh so generously throw yourselves at me then I may as well respond in kind and savour whatever lovely expressions your faces make in death. I still have a large backlog of ideas that I need to get through and you guys are looking like the perfect bits of inspiration to really make feel motivated!"
She'd say with a widening grin as she joined in the fray feeling a lot more eager for someone who just found themselves trapped within an ambush should have been feeling.
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November Witch
Over great bodies of water, a November Witch roars
Bleeding Heart (Alba)
Status: Annoyed & bored
Alba’s primary and secondary goal had been achieved. She’d gotten the questions she’s asked answered, and got the girl to speak to her, meaning Alba got a glimpse of her personality. She seemed a bit snarky, but Alba figured it could also be chalked up to the annoying ride here. Hopefully it didn’t mean the girl was always like this. An audible sigh escaped her lips, and she rolled her eyes. Quick fingers typed the information into her tablet before it was tucked into a satchel on Alba’s right side. She moved in step with Rainflower, a pace or two behind.
“Forgive me for being considerate of your privacy. I’ll take note that you don’t care for it in the future.”
She responded flatly. The group walked for no more than 30 seconds before coming upon their target building, only to see a body fly through the window, and lie limply on the ground. Another sigh, this time of annoyance. Alba very much disliked fights and getting her hands dirty. However, there was a certain novelty to it, she supposed, in a sadistic predatory sort of way. Oh well, these rats deserved death if they couldn’t protect themselves. In fact, anyone who couldn’t defend themselves deserved it. Darwinism, and all that.
She would follow the hulking metal woman through the glass window, and dust off her shoulder as a few shards of glass fell from it during her transit. Looking around, it seemed most, if not all, of those around her were engaged in combat, and being one of the last ones in meant she had a line of defense in front of her. And the rats had a line of targets to focus on before getting to Alba. So, she was stuck without much to do. She would simply turn her back and watch the entrance, making sure no one came from behind. In fact, she would right an overturned chair, and sit, looking out of the broken window, legs crossed and hands in her lap.
A man rounded the corner and peered through the broken window. A cigarette fell from his mouth in disbelief. The large blade he held in his hand, and similar appearance to the other assailants clued Alba into this being another rat. Probably on a smoke break or trying to sneak off during work. He hesitated, wondering whether to run or fight as he saw his comrades losing horrifically. His eyes were so locked on the engagement that he didn’t see Alba. While he only hesitated a moment, it was enough.
A dark red-purple colored goop began to drip from the underside of Alba’s hat, and it formed a hand which shot out and pierced the man’s midsection. He dropped his blade immediately, his eyes following the goopy appendage until he found the source. Alba gave him an evil, sadistic smile as he felt himself start to melt, the slimy arm was acidic and began to eat away at him. He fell to the ground as her EGOs manifestation retracted back into the hat and was no more.
It would be a long, painful death for the man, but Alba reveled in it. In fact, she pulled out her tablet and started to take notes. This chemical compound seemed to be effective against his insides, but less so against the bones, skin, fingernails, hair and cartilage within the body. An interesting observation. Speaking of observations, she kept an eye on the outside of the building, making sure no one else attempted to get the jump on them. She would deal with anyone who attempted to.
seasonedcat
bloodless
Rank 5 Fixer
Honey Locust
EGO: Thorns of Love
MURDER CAFÉ
Code by Serobliss
Autumn Leaf
Chrysalis, Metamorphosis, Genesis
Mentions: @ All
Location: District 12 Backstreets 'Zone - 04 Border' - 'Cafe Le Soleil'
The grains on the wooden kitchen-side counters appeared beautifully oiled. An indication of caring ownership, who probably cleaned, and sanitized the scrapwood tabletop regularly to provide a pleasant atmosphere for weary customers. The surface now dripped with fresh blood. A red dribble, already setting in and staining all it touched. It poured over the crushed sautered pipes acting as stools, making them filthy too. Intestines and other tangled viscera seeped into the bowls of still steamy noodles, left abandoned by their patrons. Those who did not escape were laying dead on the floor, among the growing pile of bodies.
The years of tenderness that had been put forth into upkeeping the small cafe had been undone in mere moments. This was the nature of this City. Nothing ever remained for too long.
A fresh body slumped on the counter. Hydrangea moved a stray lock of hair, wiping pink acid from her lips with a hand. The spray left neon pink wealing holes across the simmering corpse. She scanned the chaos as the Wallflowers enacted. Wordlessly, they had formed a layered defensive shield against the tide flowing forward.
While the woman looked nonchalant, a faint smile formed. The awkwardness of coordinating a fresh, new team was always a wide hurdle for even the most experienced officers. Fortunately, the 'evergarden' flowers alleviated much of that burden. Aware of each other through their 'fluttering', granted unmatched mental coordination.
Yet, there were still unexpected factors in wet-eared recruits. Profiles and habit schedules on paper were much different than how someone would truly act in a life-or-death scenario. In that regard, the employees were a mixture of odd talents, and peculiar dispositions. Some were well-versed in the dance of battle, utilizing their skill in weaponry, or levering their body’s natural advantages to dispatch foes. Some even found revelry in their odd implements, whether by fire, or by paint, enjoying the inflicted suffering.
Her gaze narrowed at the idle mortician report being devised by a certain insubordinate employee during the heat of battle. Rolling her eyes, yet again.
Hydrangea made a mental disciplinary note.
Others, well… chose a more indirect problem solving approach. In many cases, the best way to survive in the City was to recognize when one is outmatched, and to, an equally crucial detail, spot an opening for a speedy getaway. A Fixer who knew this important lesson was useful, regardless.
Snowdrop was similar in this regard, albeit their cunning nature manifested in a wholly differently. Situating under an overturned table once the fighting broke out, the diminutive nun waited patiently. It didn't even look like they breathed. Sure enough, a few rowdy groupies fervently chasing Daisy, screeching about how she ‘dare disrespect their angelic daddy, the true heavenly king’ rounded around. Pouncing out like a trap-door spider, outstretched claws into the exposed back of an unfortunate girl. The surrounding tatty eyeliner smeared fanatics met a similarly bloody fate.
“Fast, elusive, and loud. All-in-one, premium decoy. Happy! More, please!” the little one spoke to Daisy, clapping their tiny hands innocently. Before slinking back to the shadow.
“What’s that pale girl blabbering…?” the client muttered, adjusting the yellow bucket hat before swinging the hammer at a buck-toothed ruffian. Their cranium immediately cracked, rolling backwards in a bloody pile of brain matter.
“Play along.” Hydrangea whispered, before speaking loudly to Lupine. She always minded her tone of voice, never once raising it to a shout in front of other employees. It felt rather unbecoming and a strain. However, with all the death-cries rattling off, it was necessary. “This man is part of the Information Team. He has valuable intel regarding a newly contained Abnormality that broke free. Er. Hold on.”
Mid-sentence, Hydrangea ducked her head to avoid an iron-knuckle punch. In one fluid motion, kneeing the thug in the gut, and throwing them over the counter. Sent clattering into the little kitchen. “Probably the cause of the panic. Subdue these rowdy clerks, and we’ll take the agent back to Central Command to report.”
She then shot the client a look, to which they shrugged in reply. He noded. "Yep. Nasty lil' bugger."
Thinking it was enough to sate the deluded employee, her eyes turned upwards to a sudden towering figure. The thin, yet deadly shield formation around the VIP found firm reinforcement with the hulking force of Calendula.
The old gentlemen grumbled under his breath, swinging the lion-shaped hammer over his shoulder and sighing, “Ain’t arguin' with that.”
With the added assistance of Rainflower and Honey L, it gave Hydrangea a chance to assess the state of the raging downtown cafe brawl. A hint of boredom gleamed in her eyes. The fact was, the outcome of the so-called 'clash' was already predetermined. Fixers of their grade would have little trouble against rats. Let alone aided by the powers of EGO. Fortunately, to the uninitiated eye, one might simply mistake their special tools as some prototype workshop weaponry. After all, new forms of technology, particularly the type meant to maim, kill, and murder, were constantly being devised by twisted minds throughout the City.
Still, there was something bothering her.
Despite the apparent lopsided slaughter, the Rats showed no signs of retreat. In fact, the tide only swelled as the bloodshed continued. More rabid, hollering forms jump down from any spare rafters and balconies, waving whatever improvised weaponry they could get a handle on. To the point of even climbing up from flipped manholes. Intent on tossing themselves into the Wallflower’s ruthless meat grinder.
Watching the mob more carefully, several of them, their eyes almost seemed… lacking pupils?
...!
Then, the dark flower wrapped around her nape began to pull her mind. This was the tell-tale sign of an Abnormality threat coming into range. Yet…
Hydrangea stepped back to get a better view, eyes honed on the object in question.
Far beyond the thrashing, flailing crowd was a lone figure. With a lack of light in the musky bowels of the Backstreet, her eyes could just make out an eerie humanoid silhouette. Something much too tall and stretched. The only other details were a set of glowing yellow eyes. Not just a pair. These eyes appeared all across the enigma, blinking erratically. Like little open sores. The shadowed figure swayed in the alleyway, as though the rhythm of an unheard tune.
Hydrangea raised her hand, prepared to give an order until something crashed through the last miraculously intact restaurant window. A number of Rats were immediately flattened by the foreign, squishy projectile. Carving a path through the heart of the swarm.
A gasp escaped her lips as the bloody mist settled.
Zi Hua was barely recognizable. His right arm was ripped and mangled, leaving bits of tendons and loose skin hanging. As if he had been caught in an explosion. What remained was a crumpled mess at the center of the mob, skewered by flakes of glass, and curled up like a rag doll. Luckily, with his antics, he had plenty of experience on how to take a hard fall. Which is to say, he made sure to skid on his belly, as to disperse force away from his most crucial organ. What was left of his guts spilled from the flayed skin at the torn midsection. The durability of the special flowery uniform might be the only reason he wasn't more of a bloody pile.
That special medication of his looked to be remedying the otherwise fatal amounts of damage. Hissing purple smoke rising from pulsing, rapidly regenerating wounds.
He shivered, as if trying to force his broken body into action. Zi Hua clattered his dislocated jaw, gurgling a scream through oozing red, xylophone teeth.
“Ggrrrh… Caaauurr…!”
Hydrangea looked puzzled. “Ca...?" The word rolled on her tongue, until suddenly her eyes went wide. “Incoming! Take cover!!”
The dainty supervisor immediately grabbed the client by his coffee-stained tee, and with surprising strength, threw the both of them behind the wooden counter. Plates, utensils, and gore splattered everywhere in the sweeping slide.
…
Meanwhile. Cafe Exterior.
Those who chose to stay near, or completely outside the cafe, to deter the restless, violent horde, would be given a different perspective of the unfolding disaster. During whatever chosen tactic of 'self-defense', these employees at the flank would see a tumbling body whizzing through the air from the upper level. It can be quickly identified as the brutalized remains of their loud-mouth fellow as he crashes into the now bloody mess of a restraunt.
A loud distinct crunching sound can be heard a few seconds following, one after another. A distinct metallic -- SMASH, much like the impact of a road-side accident. Reverberating down the levels of the compact Backstreets like a roar of thunder. Then, from the same direction Zi Hua flew, two smoking masses were sent soaring into the bleak, orange sky. These objects quickly arcing downwards like spiraling ember boulders, straight to where the majority of the Wallflowers had been holed up. With all the commotion within, it would be unlikely that those Wallflowers would hear this early sign. Not to mention, the corporate hunting death mob barreling from all sides still posed as difficult terrain to cross.
If it wasn’t obvious already, the Wallflower logo flashed on the side of the crumpled wrecks. The thick armored plates, intended to protect the employed fixers, would only add extra tons of power to the imminent collision meant to kill them.
They would be lucky if there was any foundation to the cafe left.
There were only a several fleeting seconds to react.
Location: District 12 Backstreets 'Zone - 04 Border' - 'Cafe Le Soleil'
The grains on the wooden kitchen-side counters appeared beautifully oiled. An indication of caring ownership, who probably cleaned, and sanitized the scrapwood tabletop regularly to provide a pleasant atmosphere for weary customers. The surface now dripped with fresh blood. A red dribble, already setting in and staining all it touched. It poured over the crushed sautered pipes acting as stools, making them filthy too. Intestines and other tangled viscera seeped into the bowls of still steamy noodles, left abandoned by their patrons. Those who did not escape were laying dead on the floor, among the growing pile of bodies.
The years of tenderness that had been put forth into upkeeping the small cafe had been undone in mere moments. This was the nature of this City. Nothing ever remained for too long.
A fresh body slumped on the counter. Hydrangea moved a stray lock of hair, wiping pink acid from her lips with a hand. The spray left neon pink wealing holes across the simmering corpse. She scanned the chaos as the Wallflowers enacted. Wordlessly, they had formed a layered defensive shield against the tide flowing forward.
While the woman looked nonchalant, a faint smile formed. The awkwardness of coordinating a fresh, new team was always a wide hurdle for even the most experienced officers. Fortunately, the 'evergarden' flowers alleviated much of that burden. Aware of each other through their 'fluttering', granted unmatched mental coordination.
Yet, there were still unexpected factors in wet-eared recruits. Profiles and habit schedules on paper were much different than how someone would truly act in a life-or-death scenario. In that regard, the employees were a mixture of odd talents, and peculiar dispositions. Some were well-versed in the dance of battle, utilizing their skill in weaponry, or levering their body’s natural advantages to dispatch foes. Some even found revelry in their odd implements, whether by fire, or by paint, enjoying the inflicted suffering.
Her gaze narrowed at the idle mortician report being devised by a certain insubordinate employee during the heat of battle. Rolling her eyes, yet again.
Hydrangea made a mental disciplinary note.
Others, well… chose a more indirect problem solving approach. In many cases, the best way to survive in the City was to recognize when one is outmatched, and to, an equally crucial detail, spot an opening for a speedy getaway. A Fixer who knew this important lesson was useful, regardless.
Snowdrop was similar in this regard, albeit their cunning nature manifested in a wholly differently. Situating under an overturned table once the fighting broke out, the diminutive nun waited patiently. It didn't even look like they breathed. Sure enough, a few rowdy groupies fervently chasing Daisy, screeching about how she ‘dare disrespect their angelic daddy, the true heavenly king’ rounded around. Pouncing out like a trap-door spider, outstretched claws into the exposed back of an unfortunate girl. The surrounding tatty eyeliner smeared fanatics met a similarly bloody fate.
“Fast, elusive, and loud. All-in-one, premium decoy. Happy! More, please!” the little one spoke to Daisy, clapping their tiny hands innocently. Before slinking back to the shadow.
Lupine stood near Hydrangea and the VIP, forming a protective ‘V’ shape in front of the wounded man. She held her blade loosely and tilted her head in an inquisitive manner, her eyes fluttering between the enemies surrounding them, “Hmm… quite an unusual amount of panicked clerks today. Are we certain there hasn’t been a breach? An employee must have failed their work somewhere...”
“What’s that pale girl blabbering…?” the client muttered, adjusting the yellow bucket hat before swinging the hammer at a buck-toothed ruffian. Their cranium immediately cracked, rolling backwards in a bloody pile of brain matter.
“Play along.” Hydrangea whispered, before speaking loudly to Lupine. She always minded her tone of voice, never once raising it to a shout in front of other employees. It felt rather unbecoming and a strain. However, with all the death-cries rattling off, it was necessary. “This man is part of the Information Team. He has valuable intel regarding a newly contained Abnormality that broke free. Er. Hold on.”
Mid-sentence, Hydrangea ducked her head to avoid an iron-knuckle punch. In one fluid motion, kneeing the thug in the gut, and throwing them over the counter. Sent clattering into the little kitchen. “Probably the cause of the panic. Subdue these rowdy clerks, and we’ll take the agent back to Central Command to report.”
She then shot the client a look, to which they shrugged in reply. He noded. "Yep. Nasty lil' bugger."
Thinking it was enough to sate the deluded employee, her eyes turned upwards to a sudden towering figure. The thin, yet deadly shield formation around the VIP found firm reinforcement with the hulking force of Calendula.
The three now crowded around the VIP, Calendula facing towards the rest of the room, she took only a brief glance back at the man. "Behind us. Nothing else."
The old gentlemen grumbled under his breath, swinging the lion-shaped hammer over his shoulder and sighing, “Ain’t arguin' with that.”
With the added assistance of Rainflower and Honey L, it gave Hydrangea a chance to assess the state of the raging downtown cafe brawl. A hint of boredom gleamed in her eyes. The fact was, the outcome of the so-called 'clash' was already predetermined. Fixers of their grade would have little trouble against rats. Let alone aided by the powers of EGO. Fortunately, to the uninitiated eye, one might simply mistake their special tools as some prototype workshop weaponry. After all, new forms of technology, particularly the type meant to maim, kill, and murder, were constantly being devised by twisted minds throughout the City.
Still, there was something bothering her.
Despite the apparent lopsided slaughter, the Rats showed no signs of retreat. In fact, the tide only swelled as the bloodshed continued. More rabid, hollering forms jump down from any spare rafters and balconies, waving whatever improvised weaponry they could get a handle on. To the point of even climbing up from flipped manholes. Intent on tossing themselves into the Wallflower’s ruthless meat grinder.
Watching the mob more carefully, several of them, their eyes almost seemed… lacking pupils?
...!
Then, the dark flower wrapped around her nape began to pull her mind. This was the tell-tale sign of an Abnormality threat coming into range. Yet…
Hydrangea stepped back to get a better view, eyes honed on the object in question.
Far beyond the thrashing, flailing crowd was a lone figure. With a lack of light in the musky bowels of the Backstreet, her eyes could just make out an eerie humanoid silhouette. Something much too tall and stretched. The only other details were a set of glowing yellow eyes. Not just a pair. These eyes appeared all across the enigma, blinking erratically. Like little open sores. The shadowed figure swayed in the alleyway, as though the rhythm of an unheard tune.
Hydrangea raised her hand, prepared to give an order until something crashed through the last miraculously intact restaurant window. A number of Rats were immediately flattened by the foreign, squishy projectile. Carving a path through the heart of the swarm.
A gasp escaped her lips as the bloody mist settled.
Zi Hua was barely recognizable. His right arm was ripped and mangled, leaving bits of tendons and loose skin hanging. As if he had been caught in an explosion. What remained was a crumpled mess at the center of the mob, skewered by flakes of glass, and curled up like a rag doll. Luckily, with his antics, he had plenty of experience on how to take a hard fall. Which is to say, he made sure to skid on his belly, as to disperse force away from his most crucial organ. What was left of his guts spilled from the flayed skin at the torn midsection. The durability of the special flowery uniform might be the only reason he wasn't more of a bloody pile.
That special medication of his looked to be remedying the otherwise fatal amounts of damage. Hissing purple smoke rising from pulsing, rapidly regenerating wounds.
He shivered, as if trying to force his broken body into action. Zi Hua clattered his dislocated jaw, gurgling a scream through oozing red, xylophone teeth.
“Ggrrrh… Caaauurr…!”
Hydrangea looked puzzled. “Ca...?" The word rolled on her tongue, until suddenly her eyes went wide. “Incoming! Take cover!!”
The dainty supervisor immediately grabbed the client by his coffee-stained tee, and with surprising strength, threw the both of them behind the wooden counter. Plates, utensils, and gore splattered everywhere in the sweeping slide.
…
Meanwhile. Cafe Exterior.
Those who chose to stay near, or completely outside the cafe, to deter the restless, violent horde, would be given a different perspective of the unfolding disaster. During whatever chosen tactic of 'self-defense', these employees at the flank would see a tumbling body whizzing through the air from the upper level. It can be quickly identified as the brutalized remains of their loud-mouth fellow as he crashes into the now bloody mess of a restraunt.
A loud distinct crunching sound can be heard a few seconds following, one after another. A distinct metallic -- SMASH, much like the impact of a road-side accident. Reverberating down the levels of the compact Backstreets like a roar of thunder. Then, from the same direction Zi Hua flew, two smoking masses were sent soaring into the bleak, orange sky. These objects quickly arcing downwards like spiraling ember boulders, straight to where the majority of the Wallflowers had been holed up. With all the commotion within, it would be unlikely that those Wallflowers would hear this early sign. Not to mention, the corporate hunting death mob barreling from all sides still posed as difficult terrain to cross.
If it wasn’t obvious already, the Wallflower logo flashed on the side of the crumpled wrecks. The thick armored plates, intended to protect the employed fixers, would only add extra tons of power to the imminent collision meant to kill them.
They would be lucky if there was any foundation to the cafe left.
There were only a several fleeting seconds to react.
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Mothman
A moth, and also a man
While she wasn't a strategist, tactician, or anything close, there was one part of this cafe-wide brawl that didn't rub the right way with her. Rats were never this brave, especially in the face of a Fixer Office that clearly had a significant gap in skill, ability, and arms compared to the street thugs that were after this VIP for reasons beyond her own knowledge. All the Rats she'd ever bashed around would turn tail and flee after seeing some dozen or so of their comrades fall with the amount of ease that most of the others were butchering them. At this point, walking in a straight line to the exit door would be crossing over two fallen tables, and at least eight or nine different Rat corpses in various states of viscera and death.
But no, they had felled plenty, at least from the sounds and what she could make out through the fog. One would think a battle like this would be winding down, now, even if a number of them had yet to really break a sweat. A glance to her left and right at those actually close to her, and she could make out enough of Lupine thanks to those tinted glasses that seemed to stick out like a light in the darkness, even in the fog, to tell that she had plenty more in the tank. The same could be said of Hydrangea, who, at the moment Calendula spared a glance her way, seemed to be humoring Lupine's... Way of viewing the word, for lack of a better way to wrap her head around the quirk of her coworker. All in all, she didn't seem terribly fussed with the fight around them, having the attention to incapacitate a Rat that tried to catch her off guard, hucking him over the counter and away without even a trace of difficulty.
Loud stomps of heavy boots turned her attention back to what was in front of them, more specifically a man that was trying to capitalize on the chaos just the same as many of the others. Instead of a knife, or a pipe, the man was charging her with a metal sort of barstool in hand, holding it by the ends of the legs and swinging it hard towards the torso of the fighter. An inexperienced eye might have watched the way Calendula only kept her hands high, as if protecting her face from an attack clearly not aimed there, as a sign of inexperience or lack of perception as to the man's attack pattern. Though, when the barstool only truck the woman's stomach with a loud CLANG, and the woman didn't so much as flinch or buckle, more pieces of her defensive capabilities might paint themselves clearer. A head of what one could assume was mostly flesh, but everything below seeming augmented in at least some way, shape, or form. Not an uncommon sight in the City by any means, but to be augmented rather than replaced was rare, and significantly more expensive. There were plenty of lowlives in the Backstreets that would sell off their entire body, sans the brain, to implant in a metal augmentation to serve as a new body.
But with Calendula, she still seemed to breathe, and from an outside perspective, aside from her hulking figure, she seemed normal enough. It was only if one were to run a hand down steel-cold skin, or see the way the 'skin' of a sleeve would peel away when damaged to reveal metal arms. The unlucky Rat wasn't given more than a moment to realize that he had been allowed to hit her in the gut, for all it was worth, not that he had landed a successful attack. He retracted the barstool and raised it high, attempting to bring it down over Calendula's head, until-
CRUNCH!
A fist had hammered forward at lightspeed, now embedded somewhere inbetween ribs and organs in the Rat's gut, having had all the difficulty of a hot knife through butter when it came to breaking through the skin, the muscle, and the bone. Had she needed to, it was likely she could have punched clean through the entire man and still had the force necessary to do it to more men if they lined up like a set of bowling pins. But alas, the gut-punch was plenty lethal, and the stool fell with a clatter from the man's hand as Calendula pulled her fist back, sleeve of her blazer now drizzled with blood, pus, shards of bone, and whatever other viscera she had gored out of his guts.
It was barely a beat later that another window, the last lucky little window, shattered from something being hucked through it. Though, unlike when they arrived and something was thrown out of the cafe, this time it was something flying inside, and with enough force that whatever it was had taken out a handful of Rats, cleaving through them like a damned cannonball. It was only when it bounced off the ground like a stone on water and landed close to them that Calendula could make it out as their associate that the group had only spared a few words to total, Zi Hua. His jaw floated off to the side, dislocated and more than likely shattered. From the nearly disintegrated arm and stream of what looked to be his intestines streaming out and pooling underneath him, it was a miracle he had even a moment to speak. It was a hell of a throw, judging from the speed the man skid inside and his injuries.
For all intents and purposes, a landing like that to an organic should have been a near-instant death. But Zi Hua, whatever miracle and kind of being he was, seemed to be alive, albeit in critical condition. The purple smoke that raised from his body and mixed together with the fog seemed to be some kind of life support, but she couldn't identify it as anything in particular.
What was somehow more miraculous was his ability to speak, even if it was a gargled, murmured word that barely eeked out amidst the cafe full of fighting, cursing, and shattering of chairs, tables, and bones. In that moment, she had lifted another man that had charged her up with a hand gripped into his collarbone like it was a handle, other fist cocked back to kill him. Though, she stopped for a beat and looked towards Zi Hua's crumpled form as if seeing his eyes would somehow make it make more sense.
It didn't.
But when Hydrangea's eyes went wide with something between shock and fear, something clicked, and instead of decking the man to finish him off, she dropped him then and there with the realization. "McMurphy's goddamn law..." She mumbled to herself as Hydrangea hucked herself and the VIP over the table to 'cover'. While she didn't know what was coming, and the kind of damage it was going to cause, she highly doubted that the wooden counter between it and Hydrangea would be enough to wholly protect her, the VIP, or much of anything. She'd been taught the laws so many damned times, they were etched into the gear in her arm by a woman who'd been both friend, mentor, and nemesis...
McMurphy's Laws:
- Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time.
- Left to themselves, things will only go from bad to worse.
- If several things might go wrong, the thing that goes wrong will be the one that causes the most damage.
- If everything seems to be going well, you have clearly overlooked something.
A set of mantras from a woman who had been one of the most optimistic seeming folks Calendula had ever met. She had not regarded those laws as something to fear, but something to accept. To be prepared for the worst was to accept it, it was to roll with the way the river of fate would take someone and be ready to face it to the best of one's ability. So whatever it was that Hydrangea was warning them to take cover from, be them nuclear missiles, meteorites, skyscrapers... She was assuming the worse. And the only thing worse than whatever the reason was they were taking cover was, is whatever had caused that danger.
But that pessimism was invaluable to a Fixer, or at least to Calendula. If one kept those laws in their mind, nothing would come as a surprise. What was the very worst thing that could happen right now in this situation? Probably all of the Wallflowers distorting into whatever sort of monstrosities they might have hidden beneath them, and dogpiling her with a bloodlust.
This was not the worst things could be, and that had yet to come.
And only the worst of things could take her down.
"Outta the way-" She barked to Lupine not of frustration, but of urgency. If Lupine was predisposed or otherwise occupied, she would shove her way past the woman in order to get to the wall just behind her. As she did, the Rat she had dropped, attempting to pitifully crawl to his feet thanks to the shattered collarbone, was met with Calendula's boot landing somewhere in the midst of his torso, digging inside like a boot in a footworth of snow, before coming back out like the obstacle was never there. When she reached the wall, she placed fingertips on it for the briefest of moment, before breathing a sigh out that the building was sturdier than she was worried it'd be. Some kind of concrete, or cement. Whatever it was, it'd have to do.
With a deep breath, she shoved her hands into the wall fingers first, cracking through the paint and into the cement. Then, a grunt of heavy exertion as she heaved, and pulled, and moved to rip a chunk out of the wall with all the strength she and her augmentations could muster. At first, it was one chunk that came from the wall, before she peeled it further and further, the roof overhead trembling at the sudden loss of some third, give or take, of the eastern wall being ripped out by Calendula. Keen eyes looking Calendula's way would see her arms sparking, a sign that she was at least to some extent tapping into her E.G.O. built into those limbs. It was similiar, in some senses, to overclocking a piece of machinery. Though, as opposed to strain on any engine, the 'engine' was her psyche and mind. But a momentary use of her E.G.O. to remove the wall wouldn't pose a complete threat. At least, not yet.
With a final pull, she ripped pipe, wire, and everything inbetween with the slab from the wall, sliding it into the room wholly, crushing the arm of some unfortunate Rat's body under it as she did so. Now freed from the wall, it was easier for a woman of her strength to manuever, and with a hiss, she dragged it back to the counter of a span of a few seconds, before hefting the concrete slab over her head. There was a loud thunk as spikes shot out from her heel and into the ground beneath her; anchoring hooks to help her hopefully absorb some kind of impact. She held the slab at some fourty-five, maybe fifty degree angle, covering the counter behind her as best as she could manage.
With a strained hiss, she called to the other Wallflowers. She didn't call for help, not knowing her fellows and their abilities enough to know if they'd have anything to do against a mostly unknown threat closing in. "Behind this, or you're on your fuckin' own!" While it wasn't shouted at anyone specific, she did worry for some of the Wallflowers that seemed to be taking this battle... Less seriously than others. The note-taking woman was somewhere, seated, something she only noted before of an ability to see her hat much better than she could see the woman herself. That, and that younger woman who bounced off the walls with her energy... Even if she couldn't confidently say that this 'barricade' would do much in the way of protecting them, and the cafe was probably collapsing either way... It'd be much easier to drag them out of collapsed rubble than to pick their limbs out of piles of mush. Depending on the size of whatever was coming, she wasn't sure if her arms would hold to a heavy impact.
But there was only one way to find out, wasn't there? To see what was coming for them, and see how much worse it could get.
But no, they had felled plenty, at least from the sounds and what she could make out through the fog. One would think a battle like this would be winding down, now, even if a number of them had yet to really break a sweat. A glance to her left and right at those actually close to her, and she could make out enough of Lupine thanks to those tinted glasses that seemed to stick out like a light in the darkness, even in the fog, to tell that she had plenty more in the tank. The same could be said of Hydrangea, who, at the moment Calendula spared a glance her way, seemed to be humoring Lupine's... Way of viewing the word, for lack of a better way to wrap her head around the quirk of her coworker. All in all, she didn't seem terribly fussed with the fight around them, having the attention to incapacitate a Rat that tried to catch her off guard, hucking him over the counter and away without even a trace of difficulty.
Loud stomps of heavy boots turned her attention back to what was in front of them, more specifically a man that was trying to capitalize on the chaos just the same as many of the others. Instead of a knife, or a pipe, the man was charging her with a metal sort of barstool in hand, holding it by the ends of the legs and swinging it hard towards the torso of the fighter. An inexperienced eye might have watched the way Calendula only kept her hands high, as if protecting her face from an attack clearly not aimed there, as a sign of inexperience or lack of perception as to the man's attack pattern. Though, when the barstool only truck the woman's stomach with a loud CLANG, and the woman didn't so much as flinch or buckle, more pieces of her defensive capabilities might paint themselves clearer. A head of what one could assume was mostly flesh, but everything below seeming augmented in at least some way, shape, or form. Not an uncommon sight in the City by any means, but to be augmented rather than replaced was rare, and significantly more expensive. There were plenty of lowlives in the Backstreets that would sell off their entire body, sans the brain, to implant in a metal augmentation to serve as a new body.
But with Calendula, she still seemed to breathe, and from an outside perspective, aside from her hulking figure, she seemed normal enough. It was only if one were to run a hand down steel-cold skin, or see the way the 'skin' of a sleeve would peel away when damaged to reveal metal arms. The unlucky Rat wasn't given more than a moment to realize that he had been allowed to hit her in the gut, for all it was worth, not that he had landed a successful attack. He retracted the barstool and raised it high, attempting to bring it down over Calendula's head, until-
CRUNCH!
A fist had hammered forward at lightspeed, now embedded somewhere inbetween ribs and organs in the Rat's gut, having had all the difficulty of a hot knife through butter when it came to breaking through the skin, the muscle, and the bone. Had she needed to, it was likely she could have punched clean through the entire man and still had the force necessary to do it to more men if they lined up like a set of bowling pins. But alas, the gut-punch was plenty lethal, and the stool fell with a clatter from the man's hand as Calendula pulled her fist back, sleeve of her blazer now drizzled with blood, pus, shards of bone, and whatever other viscera she had gored out of his guts.
It was barely a beat later that another window, the last lucky little window, shattered from something being hucked through it. Though, unlike when they arrived and something was thrown out of the cafe, this time it was something flying inside, and with enough force that whatever it was had taken out a handful of Rats, cleaving through them like a damned cannonball. It was only when it bounced off the ground like a stone on water and landed close to them that Calendula could make it out as their associate that the group had only spared a few words to total, Zi Hua. His jaw floated off to the side, dislocated and more than likely shattered. From the nearly disintegrated arm and stream of what looked to be his intestines streaming out and pooling underneath him, it was a miracle he had even a moment to speak. It was a hell of a throw, judging from the speed the man skid inside and his injuries.
For all intents and purposes, a landing like that to an organic should have been a near-instant death. But Zi Hua, whatever miracle and kind of being he was, seemed to be alive, albeit in critical condition. The purple smoke that raised from his body and mixed together with the fog seemed to be some kind of life support, but she couldn't identify it as anything in particular.
What was somehow more miraculous was his ability to speak, even if it was a gargled, murmured word that barely eeked out amidst the cafe full of fighting, cursing, and shattering of chairs, tables, and bones. In that moment, she had lifted another man that had charged her up with a hand gripped into his collarbone like it was a handle, other fist cocked back to kill him. Though, she stopped for a beat and looked towards Zi Hua's crumpled form as if seeing his eyes would somehow make it make more sense.
It didn't.
But when Hydrangea's eyes went wide with something between shock and fear, something clicked, and instead of decking the man to finish him off, she dropped him then and there with the realization. "McMurphy's goddamn law..." She mumbled to herself as Hydrangea hucked herself and the VIP over the table to 'cover'. While she didn't know what was coming, and the kind of damage it was going to cause, she highly doubted that the wooden counter between it and Hydrangea would be enough to wholly protect her, the VIP, or much of anything. She'd been taught the laws so many damned times, they were etched into the gear in her arm by a woman who'd been both friend, mentor, and nemesis...
McMurphy's Laws:
- Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time.
- Left to themselves, things will only go from bad to worse.
- If several things might go wrong, the thing that goes wrong will be the one that causes the most damage.
- If everything seems to be going well, you have clearly overlooked something.
A set of mantras from a woman who had been one of the most optimistic seeming folks Calendula had ever met. She had not regarded those laws as something to fear, but something to accept. To be prepared for the worst was to accept it, it was to roll with the way the river of fate would take someone and be ready to face it to the best of one's ability. So whatever it was that Hydrangea was warning them to take cover from, be them nuclear missiles, meteorites, skyscrapers... She was assuming the worse. And the only thing worse than whatever the reason was they were taking cover was, is whatever had caused that danger.
But that pessimism was invaluable to a Fixer, or at least to Calendula. If one kept those laws in their mind, nothing would come as a surprise. What was the very worst thing that could happen right now in this situation? Probably all of the Wallflowers distorting into whatever sort of monstrosities they might have hidden beneath them, and dogpiling her with a bloodlust.
This was not the worst things could be, and that had yet to come.
And only the worst of things could take her down.
"Outta the way-" She barked to Lupine not of frustration, but of urgency. If Lupine was predisposed or otherwise occupied, she would shove her way past the woman in order to get to the wall just behind her. As she did, the Rat she had dropped, attempting to pitifully crawl to his feet thanks to the shattered collarbone, was met with Calendula's boot landing somewhere in the midst of his torso, digging inside like a boot in a footworth of snow, before coming back out like the obstacle was never there. When she reached the wall, she placed fingertips on it for the briefest of moment, before breathing a sigh out that the building was sturdier than she was worried it'd be. Some kind of concrete, or cement. Whatever it was, it'd have to do.
With a deep breath, she shoved her hands into the wall fingers first, cracking through the paint and into the cement. Then, a grunt of heavy exertion as she heaved, and pulled, and moved to rip a chunk out of the wall with all the strength she and her augmentations could muster. At first, it was one chunk that came from the wall, before she peeled it further and further, the roof overhead trembling at the sudden loss of some third, give or take, of the eastern wall being ripped out by Calendula. Keen eyes looking Calendula's way would see her arms sparking, a sign that she was at least to some extent tapping into her E.G.O. built into those limbs. It was similiar, in some senses, to overclocking a piece of machinery. Though, as opposed to strain on any engine, the 'engine' was her psyche and mind. But a momentary use of her E.G.O. to remove the wall wouldn't pose a complete threat. At least, not yet.
With a final pull, she ripped pipe, wire, and everything inbetween with the slab from the wall, sliding it into the room wholly, crushing the arm of some unfortunate Rat's body under it as she did so. Now freed from the wall, it was easier for a woman of her strength to manuever, and with a hiss, she dragged it back to the counter of a span of a few seconds, before hefting the concrete slab over her head. There was a loud thunk as spikes shot out from her heel and into the ground beneath her; anchoring hooks to help her hopefully absorb some kind of impact. She held the slab at some fourty-five, maybe fifty degree angle, covering the counter behind her as best as she could manage.
With a strained hiss, she called to the other Wallflowers. She didn't call for help, not knowing her fellows and their abilities enough to know if they'd have anything to do against a mostly unknown threat closing in. "Behind this, or you're on your fuckin' own!" While it wasn't shouted at anyone specific, she did worry for some of the Wallflowers that seemed to be taking this battle... Less seriously than others. The note-taking woman was somewhere, seated, something she only noted before of an ability to see her hat much better than she could see the woman herself. That, and that younger woman who bounced off the walls with her energy... Even if she couldn't confidently say that this 'barricade' would do much in the way of protecting them, and the cafe was probably collapsing either way... It'd be much easier to drag them out of collapsed rubble than to pick their limbs out of piles of mush. Depending on the size of whatever was coming, she wasn't sure if her arms would hold to a heavy impact.
But there was only one way to find out, wasn't there? To see what was coming for them, and see how much worse it could get.
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seasonedcat
bloodless
Rank 5 Fixer
Honey Locust
EGO: Thorns of Love
MURDER CAFÉ
Code by Serobliss
November Witch
Over great bodies of water, a November Witch roars
Bleeding Heart (Alba)
Status: Annoyed & bored
Alba was seated right on the edge of the cafe. A step away was the first broken window and the outside world. She simply watched the dying man, taking notes and observing. However, as she did so it became apparent something odd was happening to his eyes. Looking closer, they seemed to almost be moving…. Twitching. She lifted them up only to find the culprit of the twitching eyelids. But surely this wasn’t her doing, right? She took a moment to look around, and now that she was looking for it, she noticed the same thing on everyone else. Well, on all the other rats.
This had to be the work of an abnormality or EGO doing this to them all. Vanta would also notice the steady stream of seemingly suicidal miscreants. Also something odd. Surely under armed rats wouldn’t just throw their lives away attacking an obviously superior force. There was an unknown factor at play in this situation, and Alba’s interest was highly peaked by this fact. She stepped over the dead man, through the window, and looked around outside. More rats were flooding towards the cafe, and upon seeing her, made her their first target.
Well, Alba assumed she could at least draw them away and incapacitate them, or leave them in a state easier for the others to finish off. Alba started up the stairs they had come from, goopy hands emerging from her hat and shooting out to pierce and melt the rats in front of her before they could even get in range to hit her. They would fall, sizzling and popping holes in them from the acidic compounds in this goop.
For the targets running up the stairs at her, her hat began to pour out acid like a waterfall, and it would run down the stairs. Those behind her would have no choice but to retreat or step in it, and when they did that, it would eat through their shoes in barely a second before eating through their feet, rendering them incapable of continuing after her. If they attempted to crawl with their hands, those too would soon be gone. The acid would then drain into a storm drain near the bottom of the stairs, keeping it from affecting those inside the cafe.
As she neared the halfway point, she would see the two vehicles flying through the air and towards the cafe behind her. Well, she could only hope those inside would survive… Maybe not those two annoying ones who were singing. But that was neither here nor there. Perhaps they were useful. She’d find out if they survived or not. For now though, she brought a hand to her mouth as she yawned. This was boring. For now, she continued to the top of the stairs to find out what was causing all this racket with the two 8-ton projectiles, and maybe whoever was behind the suicidal rats.
Juju
PREY-FOR-US
Rank 5 Fixer
Lupine
EGO: Rose-Tinted Reverie
Murder Café
Code by Serobliss
dreadnought
The enlightened one
Wisteria's fiery sabre would soon find itself buried deep within her umpteenth kill of the day before she swung around the rat's impaled and currently burning body into the rest of the suicidal rats that thought that they could stand a chance against an entire team of fixers. Oh well it wasn't like it was her job to give out some much needed life advice to them and as long as she had her way they wouldn't live enough to make use of it either as the stench of burning bodies quickly grew around her. At first she was perfectly happy to cut down anyone who got close to her which felt similar to her old days at the dawn office but with each new body sporting the same blank, vacant face painted across it in death her initial excitement would soon waver until she could hardly care less of how many lives she's taken already. It was starting to feel less like an actual battle and more similar to a bunch of lemurs jumping off a cliff to their deaths so as the next mindless rat came her way she simply kicked them towards a group of them that were trying to attack her from behind, and cause them all to fall like a bunch of bowling pins as Wisteria focused her attention elsewhere around the battlefield. Casting her gaze around the place while cleaving through the odd rat that came too close to her in case there was a way to end things quickly and get back to drawing again once the enraged crowd was dealt with.
For the better or worse it wouldn't take too long for something else besides an approaching enemy to catch her interest as a sudden blur flew over the battlefield and crashed threw what little remained of the café and took a good amount of rats that were gathering close to it along with it. Such a sudden arrival would momentarily catch her off guard until her honed instincts kicked in as she beheaded another approaching rat that tried to lunge at her with whatever mishmash of an improvised weapon he was trying to use. She had know idea what was happening at the moment but one thing that was for sure was that something new was finally happening with said something being potentially inspiration worthy too and if there was a chance that she could cure her current artist's block that had been plaguing her for a while then she'd take it a hundred percent of the time. Still though, the rabid crowd around her wasn't thinning down by much no matter how many she chopped to pieces and burnt to ashes which was starting to get on her nerves when she was getting so close towards her goal yet still lacking a proper direction to pursue it in.
Luckily for her, and unluckily for anyone still within the café, the armoured cars that they all arrived near the café in were chucked downwards from the staircase to the café like some sort of sign from whatever god that was still alive and kicking out there and she wouldn't be one to question it much either as her body was filled to the brim with newfound energy as she carved her way through any and all rats that still dared to stand in her way while she rushed for the stairs...The exact same set of stairs that Alba just coated in acid in fact which was nearly enough to cause Wisteria to burst in a fit of rage after being denied for the one chance she was looking for until she managed to calm herself down with a couple of deep breaths before taking out her book of art pieces along with her paintbrush as she flipped through to find some of her more completed pieces of work until her eyes landed on the perfect one that would serve nicely for now.
"Not this one...Not this one either...Definitely not this one no matter how much I wish I could bring this masterpiece to reality...Ah this will certainly do pretty nicely and I should have some 'paint' left still too even if those duds burning behind me are worth much of anything in their current state."
And once she double checked that no one was close enough to get the jump on her, she quickly got to work on filling out a couple of finishing touches here and there before her work was finally completed and what a fitting one it was with the stench of death and burning corpses that filled the air around her. A sickening peeling sound would erupt from her sketchbook that she had currently left spread across the floor as slowly but surely her newest creation would rip itself off the double page spread it originated from as it took flight before landing right in front of its master. The creature in question appeared to be a decaying vulture that had rotting flesh and bone appearing across its body and not to mention that the feathers which still remained on its body were heavily discoloured but all that did little to hinder the vulture's movements in any way and with the sharp talons to go along with its sharp beak made it a creature while not overly imposing in height, its arsenal as well as its creepy appearance was more than enough to leave the average person screaming for the hills at the sight of it alone. As entertaining of a sight that may have been however, she had a different purpose for it in mind as she crouched down to pick it up before relaying her orders to it.
"Well aren't you pretty a beautiful looking bird of terror? Enough flattering myself though since we got a staircase to climb, or rather fly over. Should be pretty simple enough for you to handle right?"
The rotting vulture would do its best attempt at squawking back at he in confirmation only to end up sounding more like a raspy coughing fit before it soon took flight above her while its talons dug into her shoulders as it started carrying her over the acid covered steps towards her destination with increased vigour.
For the better or worse it wouldn't take too long for something else besides an approaching enemy to catch her interest as a sudden blur flew over the battlefield and crashed threw what little remained of the café and took a good amount of rats that were gathering close to it along with it. Such a sudden arrival would momentarily catch her off guard until her honed instincts kicked in as she beheaded another approaching rat that tried to lunge at her with whatever mishmash of an improvised weapon he was trying to use. She had know idea what was happening at the moment but one thing that was for sure was that something new was finally happening with said something being potentially inspiration worthy too and if there was a chance that she could cure her current artist's block that had been plaguing her for a while then she'd take it a hundred percent of the time. Still though, the rabid crowd around her wasn't thinning down by much no matter how many she chopped to pieces and burnt to ashes which was starting to get on her nerves when she was getting so close towards her goal yet still lacking a proper direction to pursue it in.
Luckily for her, and unluckily for anyone still within the café, the armoured cars that they all arrived near the café in were chucked downwards from the staircase to the café like some sort of sign from whatever god that was still alive and kicking out there and she wouldn't be one to question it much either as her body was filled to the brim with newfound energy as she carved her way through any and all rats that still dared to stand in her way while she rushed for the stairs...The exact same set of stairs that Alba just coated in acid in fact which was nearly enough to cause Wisteria to burst in a fit of rage after being denied for the one chance she was looking for until she managed to calm herself down with a couple of deep breaths before taking out her book of art pieces along with her paintbrush as she flipped through to find some of her more completed pieces of work until her eyes landed on the perfect one that would serve nicely for now.
"Not this one...Not this one either...Definitely not this one no matter how much I wish I could bring this masterpiece to reality...Ah this will certainly do pretty nicely and I should have some 'paint' left still too even if those duds burning behind me are worth much of anything in their current state."
And once she double checked that no one was close enough to get the jump on her, she quickly got to work on filling out a couple of finishing touches here and there before her work was finally completed and what a fitting one it was with the stench of death and burning corpses that filled the air around her. A sickening peeling sound would erupt from her sketchbook that she had currently left spread across the floor as slowly but surely her newest creation would rip itself off the double page spread it originated from as it took flight before landing right in front of its master. The creature in question appeared to be a decaying vulture that had rotting flesh and bone appearing across its body and not to mention that the feathers which still remained on its body were heavily discoloured but all that did little to hinder the vulture's movements in any way and with the sharp talons to go along with its sharp beak made it a creature while not overly imposing in height, its arsenal as well as its creepy appearance was more than enough to leave the average person screaming for the hills at the sight of it alone. As entertaining of a sight that may have been however, she had a different purpose for it in mind as she crouched down to pick it up before relaying her orders to it.
"Well aren't you pretty a beautiful looking bird of terror? Enough flattering myself though since we got a staircase to climb, or rather fly over. Should be pretty simple enough for you to handle right?"
The rotting vulture would do its best attempt at squawking back at he in confirmation only to end up sounding more like a raspy coughing fit before it soon took flight above her while its talons dug into her shoulders as it started carrying her over the acid covered steps towards her destination with increased vigour.
ERode
In The Mirror
It was going pretty well, really. Daisy hadn’t exactly counted on her colleagues helping her out with the small mob that she had gathered with her antics, but on the other hand, she was the type of gal to make her own luck. Rainflower came in with the baton, Snowdrop with the claws, and suddenly, all that remained were completely incoherent, fully bloodlusted Rats, the very last shreds of their personality stripped away.
A bit of a shame, really.
Daisy leaned down to pick up a nail-studded baseball bat from the pile of viscera left by Snowdrop’s ambush, and by the time she raised her head, Zi Hua had returned in the form of a human projectile, taking a steep descent before smashing headfirst through the café! A few heartbeats after, and something much larger, much scarier, followed the sad, mad, half-a-man. Their armored trucks, being flung down like toys from the fat hands of a petulant child. There was hardly any time left. If she had prep, perhaps there would be some sort of contraption that she’d have been able to come up with, some way of glitching physics to divert the falling trucks.
But there wasn’t, so instead, Daisy simply took in a deep breath and shouted, “LOVE YOU, LUPINE!”
And with such words of affection delivered, she brained the goon that tried to sneak up on her, before tossing his body down a manhole and jumping down after, to take shelter from the inevitable explosion. The limits of only a few seconds, truly.
Autumn Leaf
Chrysalis, Metamorphosis, Genesis
Location: District 12 Backstreets 'Zone - 04 Border' - 'Cafe Le Soleil'
Perhaps Hydrangea had been too quick in judging their teamwork positively.
She could feel them scatter, like petals swepted up in a gust of wind. Chaos erupted the cafe as the Wallflowers pedaled forward with their frantic actions in the split moments. One half were given not so much as a word of advice by their forewarned comrades, left guessing at the upcoming vehicular collision. Whatever cobbled plan was probably better than nothing, not knowing what was to come. Where as, the other half seemed to make a point of their silence. An act of defiance, in according to their own self-interests. Turning their backs to their fellow employees, and seeking another path of death on their own. A few heeded to their commander's orders, remembering to maintain their protection over the client. But would any of it matter, considering the situation? Would their allies even be able to come back for them, if not just to search ruins?
What was supposed to be an easy-going company lunch was turning out to be much more trouble than anyone could imagine.
Mentions:
Juju
CatJones
Mothman
seasonedcat
…
Meanwhile. Cafe Exterior.
ERode
November Witch
dreadnought
Perhaps Hydrangea had been too quick in judging their teamwork positively.
She could feel them scatter, like petals swepted up in a gust of wind. Chaos erupted the cafe as the Wallflowers pedaled forward with their frantic actions in the split moments. One half were given not so much as a word of advice by their forewarned comrades, left guessing at the upcoming vehicular collision. Whatever cobbled plan was probably better than nothing, not knowing what was to come. Where as, the other half seemed to make a point of their silence. An act of defiance, in according to their own self-interests. Turning their backs to their fellow employees, and seeking another path of death on their own. A few heeded to their commander's orders, remembering to maintain their protection over the client. But would any of it matter, considering the situation? Would their allies even be able to come back for them, if not just to search ruins?
What was supposed to be an easy-going company lunch was turning out to be much more trouble than anyone could imagine.
Mentions:
Juju
CatJones
Mothman
seasonedcat
Within the cafe-in-shambles, Calendula lead a haphazard initiative. Breaking a potion of the foundation, they barricaded themselves and braced for the worst. A desperate attempt to bolster their defenses against an unknown threat. In this short amount of time, what else could they do? A few joined to bolster the make-shift shield, while others chose to trust the protective properties of their own EGO.
All the while, the gnawing rats swarmed all around, biting at their heels. Not for long.
It wasn't a second longer, after falling into their positions, when a heavy impact shook the structure. A series of rumbles echoed above. Then, violently, dust and liquid erupted downwards, exploding chucks of the ceiling into the ransacked interior of the cafe. Many of the rats were immediately crushed by the shrapnel, as the the armored van pierced downward, cutting a path through the upper floors of the building. The descent was brutal and quick. But it petered equally swiftly. The cafe was just a small rented space at the bottom of an overall looming, megastructure built to withstand even the worse of damage. Not to mention, by this City's standards.
The front wheels spun and creaked, swinging aloft precariously in the air. The smashed hood of the vehicle sagged through a large crack above, caught in a tangle of thick web of electrical wires and pipe network running between the layers of the megaplex.
The tip rested atop the concrete shield, weighing down upon Calendula and Lupine. But due to the angle, it was only a portion of the weight. Their combined strength seemed enough. Additionally, underneath the barrier, they had been protected from any stray shards of concrete.
For just a moment, the desperate initiative seemed to work. Though due to the integrity and durability of the huge structure more so. The van might've just remained there, hanging idly. Just long enough to make a hasty escape. If not for a second impact. Again, even a verbal warning might've helped. Instead, those within were caught by surprise. The other armored vehicle crashed underneath, blasting a massive hole straight through the front of the cafe. Tables were reduced to splinters while it punched into the left wall, skidding forward spraying hot sparks and blood. This pivoted its trajectory, causing it veer and slam to the opposite side. Everything shook with the violent ping-pong of the collisions. The overhanging headlights flashed as the circuit box had been struck. What remained of any light fixtures fizzled to darkness.
The rampage was only halted due to it ramming right into Honey Locust's thorn nest, getting ensared. Though the destruction was cut short, this seemed to be the final blow.
The foundations of the cafe could not take anymore mayhem. Without support of the front half, the layer above crumbled, dislodging the hanging vehicle from its stable axis. The dense weave of wires and rusty pipes twisted and snapped to a sputtering threadbare. Rolling awkwardly, the large mass slid down fully onto the concrete shield upheld by Calendula, and Lupine. The several tons of weight did not show mercy in smothering them. The mechanical augments housed within the large hulking Calendula would begin to heat up. They seized under the immense crushing force, unleashing lances of sparkling electricity due to stress. But the EGO would be the last thing to be broken. The giant woman would feel it in her whole upper body, the more fragile bones and flesh starting to compact. The blood-filled balloons popping one by one. How even despite her remarkable physical attributes, she was still human underneath it all.
If not for the effort of Lupine, she would've never lasted long enough to consider this fact. But then, just when Calendula could feel several ribs crack, all of a sudden, the crushing pressure came to a halt.
A sudden cradle of thorny branches enveloping them, replacing one source of pain for another. Honey Locust had unleashed their peculiar EGO. But to say they have control over it, was unfounded notion. They suffered injuries upon the impact of the second vehicle. In response, this living, reactive EGO seemed to rage at the threat to its precious owner. The nest of blood-soaked thorns swelled insatiably, stabbing those nearby. It fed on bodies for power, craving the blood within. And there was a whole buffet to feed upon. The EGO enlarged to a monstrous size as the thick layer of blood at the bottom of the cafe was greedily absorbed into its dark, prickly mass.
The dark bush stabbed indiscriminately, threatening their lives. But it also saved them. The sharp thorn roots had pierced into the car above. In just seconds, the vehicle was covered in the curling wave of sharp spines. Those underneath the slab would have but a fleeting moment to escape the growing thorns before it fully captured them.
Not that were were many places left to go. The air was already growing stale with the foul stench of death, and the carbon produced by their breaths. The whole front of the cafe had been collapsed, effectively locking half of the Wallflowers into what remained of the restaurant. The broken kitchen bubbled, leaking oil, grease, and lard into the swiveling concoction of grime rising at their feet. One of the main plumbing pipes must have burst in all the damages.
Their evergarden flowers began to illuminate naturally, as though responding to their desire for light. It provided a faint aura of light for each of them, barely enough to see what was in their hands in such pitch darkness.
"Couldn't have gone easier on this poor, old body...?" the old man grumbled, breaking the silence.
Hydrangea swung her legs over the bar counter, which had been snapped in half. The other side was buried underneath a large cement outcrop. "Sorry, sorry. Needed to place you as far from danger as possible. Are you able to move?"
"I'm old, but I 'ain't frail. I can keep going." he huffed, coming to a stand with a grunt.
"At least we're rid of the rat problem. For now." Hydrangea muttered, eyeing the thick mount of cement and bodies forming a grisly wall.
Hydrangea came to Calendula, following the light of their flower. The woman produced a few flat disks from a fanny pack strapped to her thigh. "Chew on these. HP tablets. They aren't as effective as ampules, but it should stabilize you. Stop you from dying." shaking her own head, smiling, "What you did was crazy. But working as a team is how this office survives. The VIP is secure, thanks to you." raising a hand to Lupine, and patting her colorless curls of hair. "You too, little sapling."
Her eyes narrowed upon the curling, bloody bramble bush, "His EGO is throwing a tantrum. It'll be dangerous for you all. I'll fetch him." then pointing a thumb back into the kitchen, "Someone able bodied, break through that back wall. Let's escape while the dust is still settling. Those crazed clerks will come sniffing soon."
Then, a rock shifted. The voice of Zi Hua could be heard somewhere in the rubble. "Dammit... Someone... get this rock off me! Hurry! They're... They're... urgh..."
Hydrangea gave one of the employees a look to go help him, before turning with a sigh. Rolling up her sleeves, she began approaching the thick thorny growth.
She could feel it. The other flowers still fluttering beyond the wall. And she was certain they felt the connection too. Some were not far. Others moved further away, towards where the cars once parked. Hydrangea shook her head, dismissing the possibility of such a foolish mistake. For now, she needed to focus.
The corner of her lips became unhinged. A shimmering color pulsed in her chest, until the familiar acid began to dribble from her mouth. With a soft breath, a thick mist of neon pink was sprayed upon the thorns. The cloud glimmered as a corrosive hiss overwhelmed the unnatural blooming of unrestrained thorns, allowing her to step into the opening. Honey Locust was alive, mostly. With several cuts of her dripping bladed heels, Hydrangea pruned the man from the squeezing jagged core. Like a delicate root. She was careful about pulling him recklessly. He already seemed to suffer many large lacerations, both from the weight of the car barreling in, and from the curse of his jealous EGO. But the ones caused by the bramble seemed to seal themselves.
The woman made sure to keep contact to a minimum, the newly produced thorns already tightening around him at her touch. As though afraid to let him go. Laying him on what was left of the counter, she made one last assessment of his condition. Not much bleeding, surprisingly. One of his legs seemed to be heavily fractured. He would have difficulty walking. Let alone run. This would be a problem. In fact, several of them were probably out of commission. They may put up a strong face, this headstrong bunch. But any future fight would be inadvisable. Especially, against whatever thing caused all of this.
Hydrangea looked up to check the progress of the others. "How's that exit coming along?"
All the while, the gnawing rats swarmed all around, biting at their heels. Not for long.
It wasn't a second longer, after falling into their positions, when a heavy impact shook the structure. A series of rumbles echoed above. Then, violently, dust and liquid erupted downwards, exploding chucks of the ceiling into the ransacked interior of the cafe. Many of the rats were immediately crushed by the shrapnel, as the the armored van pierced downward, cutting a path through the upper floors of the building. The descent was brutal and quick. But it petered equally swiftly. The cafe was just a small rented space at the bottom of an overall looming, megastructure built to withstand even the worse of damage. Not to mention, by this City's standards.
The front wheels spun and creaked, swinging aloft precariously in the air. The smashed hood of the vehicle sagged through a large crack above, caught in a tangle of thick web of electrical wires and pipe network running between the layers of the megaplex.
The tip rested atop the concrete shield, weighing down upon Calendula and Lupine. But due to the angle, it was only a portion of the weight. Their combined strength seemed enough. Additionally, underneath the barrier, they had been protected from any stray shards of concrete.
For just a moment, the desperate initiative seemed to work. Though due to the integrity and durability of the huge structure more so. The van might've just remained there, hanging idly. Just long enough to make a hasty escape. If not for a second impact. Again, even a verbal warning might've helped. Instead, those within were caught by surprise. The other armored vehicle crashed underneath, blasting a massive hole straight through the front of the cafe. Tables were reduced to splinters while it punched into the left wall, skidding forward spraying hot sparks and blood. This pivoted its trajectory, causing it veer and slam to the opposite side. Everything shook with the violent ping-pong of the collisions. The overhanging headlights flashed as the circuit box had been struck. What remained of any light fixtures fizzled to darkness.
The rampage was only halted due to it ramming right into Honey Locust's thorn nest, getting ensared. Though the destruction was cut short, this seemed to be the final blow.
The foundations of the cafe could not take anymore mayhem. Without support of the front half, the layer above crumbled, dislodging the hanging vehicle from its stable axis. The dense weave of wires and rusty pipes twisted and snapped to a sputtering threadbare. Rolling awkwardly, the large mass slid down fully onto the concrete shield upheld by Calendula, and Lupine. The several tons of weight did not show mercy in smothering them. The mechanical augments housed within the large hulking Calendula would begin to heat up. They seized under the immense crushing force, unleashing lances of sparkling electricity due to stress. But the EGO would be the last thing to be broken. The giant woman would feel it in her whole upper body, the more fragile bones and flesh starting to compact. The blood-filled balloons popping one by one. How even despite her remarkable physical attributes, she was still human underneath it all.
If not for the effort of Lupine, she would've never lasted long enough to consider this fact. But then, just when Calendula could feel several ribs crack, all of a sudden, the crushing pressure came to a halt.
A sudden cradle of thorny branches enveloping them, replacing one source of pain for another. Honey Locust had unleashed their peculiar EGO. But to say they have control over it, was unfounded notion. They suffered injuries upon the impact of the second vehicle. In response, this living, reactive EGO seemed to rage at the threat to its precious owner. The nest of blood-soaked thorns swelled insatiably, stabbing those nearby. It fed on bodies for power, craving the blood within. And there was a whole buffet to feed upon. The EGO enlarged to a monstrous size as the thick layer of blood at the bottom of the cafe was greedily absorbed into its dark, prickly mass.
The dark bush stabbed indiscriminately, threatening their lives. But it also saved them. The sharp thorn roots had pierced into the car above. In just seconds, the vehicle was covered in the curling wave of sharp spines. Those underneath the slab would have but a fleeting moment to escape the growing thorns before it fully captured them.
Calendula would require some assistance. Her arms were mostly sagging, compressed flesh, granted form only due to the augmenting EGO within.
Not that were were many places left to go. The air was already growing stale with the foul stench of death, and the carbon produced by their breaths. The whole front of the cafe had been collapsed, effectively locking half of the Wallflowers into what remained of the restaurant. The broken kitchen bubbled, leaking oil, grease, and lard into the swiveling concoction of grime rising at their feet. One of the main plumbing pipes must have burst in all the damages.
Their evergarden flowers began to illuminate naturally, as though responding to their desire for light. It provided a faint aura of light for each of them, barely enough to see what was in their hands in such pitch darkness.
"Couldn't have gone easier on this poor, old body...?" the old man grumbled, breaking the silence.
Hydrangea swung her legs over the bar counter, which had been snapped in half. The other side was buried underneath a large cement outcrop. "Sorry, sorry. Needed to place you as far from danger as possible. Are you able to move?"
"I'm old, but I 'ain't frail. I can keep going." he huffed, coming to a stand with a grunt.
"At least we're rid of the rat problem. For now." Hydrangea muttered, eyeing the thick mount of cement and bodies forming a grisly wall.
Hydrangea came to Calendula, following the light of their flower. The woman produced a few flat disks from a fanny pack strapped to her thigh. "Chew on these. HP tablets. They aren't as effective as ampules, but it should stabilize you. Stop you from dying." shaking her own head, smiling, "What you did was crazy. But working as a team is how this office survives. The VIP is secure, thanks to you." raising a hand to Lupine, and patting her colorless curls of hair. "You too, little sapling."
Her eyes narrowed upon the curling, bloody bramble bush, "His EGO is throwing a tantrum. It'll be dangerous for you all. I'll fetch him." then pointing a thumb back into the kitchen, "Someone able bodied, break through that back wall. Let's escape while the dust is still settling. Those crazed clerks will come sniffing soon."
Then, a rock shifted. The voice of Zi Hua could be heard somewhere in the rubble. "Dammit... Someone... get this rock off me! Hurry! They're... They're... urgh..."
Hydrangea gave one of the employees a look to go help him, before turning with a sigh. Rolling up her sleeves, she began approaching the thick thorny growth.
She could feel it. The other flowers still fluttering beyond the wall. And she was certain they felt the connection too. Some were not far. Others moved further away, towards where the cars once parked. Hydrangea shook her head, dismissing the possibility of such a foolish mistake. For now, she needed to focus.
The corner of her lips became unhinged. A shimmering color pulsed in her chest, until the familiar acid began to dribble from her mouth. With a soft breath, a thick mist of neon pink was sprayed upon the thorns. The cloud glimmered as a corrosive hiss overwhelmed the unnatural blooming of unrestrained thorns, allowing her to step into the opening. Honey Locust was alive, mostly. With several cuts of her dripping bladed heels, Hydrangea pruned the man from the squeezing jagged core. Like a delicate root. She was careful about pulling him recklessly. He already seemed to suffer many large lacerations, both from the weight of the car barreling in, and from the curse of his jealous EGO. But the ones caused by the bramble seemed to seal themselves.
The woman made sure to keep contact to a minimum, the newly produced thorns already tightening around him at her touch. As though afraid to let him go. Laying him on what was left of the counter, she made one last assessment of his condition. Not much bleeding, surprisingly. One of his legs seemed to be heavily fractured. He would have difficulty walking. Let alone run. This would be a problem. In fact, several of them were probably out of commission. They may put up a strong face, this headstrong bunch. But any future fight would be inadvisable. Especially, against whatever thing caused all of this.
Hydrangea looked up to check the progress of the others. "How's that exit coming along?"
Meanwhile. Cafe Exterior.
ERode
November Witch
dreadnought
The rats scrambled from the double impact, which had caused the cafe to partially crumble. Flinging a huge cloud of smoke and grime into the arid air, flooding the tight space between the brutalist structures in a heavy fog. The neon bowl sign exploded like a firecracker as its circuits were overloaded, slamming against the side of the back alley. Many were crushed, but those rats remaining continued their hunt for the employees. They swung their improvised implements around in the heavily obscured gray mist, uncaring if they accidentally struck each other. So long as there was a chance of catching one of the Wallflowers, it seemed a fair price for them to pay.
"Look at what they've done! My favorite noodle spot. Those rotten vultures! I'll rip their wings!" screamed a man, followed by the voice of another, "I'll gut them! I'll gut them! If it's the last thing I do!"
Snowdrop had jumped down after Daisy into the hole. The tiny form flopped down like a tissue, then reached out. They clung to the rung of the ladder leading down into the rancid, tunnels deep below. Their pale flowers on their body began to glimmer, but they instantly suppressed it. Favoring the cloak of darkness. They listened to the swears and threats of the smoke wandering mobs. Waiting for the nearby voices to go away. That is when the tiny nun poked the tip of their head out of the manhole. Their eyes scanned back and forth in the smoke. Then, they cuffed a clawed hand and placed it against the mouth of the mask.
"I see one!" shouting in the voice of one the rowdy, killer groupies. "There in that alley! It's that cowardly, blonde bitch-haired wannabe popstar! She abandoned her colleagues, and is trying to sneak away! Fuck her up!"
Several figures of the crowd immediately set to charge, attacking the confused lone rat who screamed and tried fighting back. The shadows blurred in a frenzied pile of limbs, that grew with each new attacker throwing themselves at it. Friend or foe, they smashed into one another. What human shape dissolved into a screaming blob. Resembling a thrashing headless beast. Snowdrop quickly hoisted themselves out of the manhole. They could feel the others still fluttering inside. With the commotion occupying the attention of the mob, this was their chance to escape undetected, and regroup.
Next, there was loud rumble. Above, distant sounds of howling and squealing. What did those two get themselves into?
Snowdrop looked to Daisy, seeing what she would do. They would follow.
...
They were approaching the top of the winding staircase, the familiar side street would soon come back into sight for Alba and Wisteria. Reflecting off the towering skyscrapers that overlooked, the orange, burnt sky was in full view. The wild mob seemed to disperse there. Partially in part to the efforts to leave the path behind oozing with a treacherous hazard. Several bodies were already sinking in the corrosive pink river, having tried to press after the witch regardless. Their flesh washed clean of their bones. While others tried climbing over these half-melted forms, to little success.
Voices could be heard upon crossing over the last steps. But not before a body was flung. Like a sack of discarded meat, it soared past both of their heads. In that instant, they would recognize the chauffer uniform. And bite marks all across.
"Useless. That meat didn't even last a few nibbles." grumbled a high-pitchy whiny voice. One of the three shadows standing between the trails of metal shards, and long skid marks. Blood and meat chunks were scattered everywhere. And wilted petals of flowers.
Another cloaked shadow shifted. "Hmph. Maybe if you went a little easier, sis. You're always biting off more than you can chew."
"What did you say, you little brat? Is that how you should speak to your elder!?"
"Maybe, if you acted like one. So far, you're just a fuck up."
"I'll tear your face! We'll see who is the 'fuck up'!"
The slender girl spat out, throwing her fists as she screamed. Her flaring anger immediately manifested into a large animal that squelched as it moved. It crawled out from beneath her long, flowing skirt like a caterpillar squeezing out from a cocoon. The horrific, wet thing resembled a giant woodland amalgamation with patched, ratty fur, a drooling mouth stretched by large tusks, and many, many skittering legs like a centipede. The creature pounced at the lanky figure, when another emerged from the pure darkness. A spectral canine-like entity with rows of impossible amounts of teeth. Smoke and wet sludge scattered as the two heaving creatures collided, causing the buildings nearby to shudder.
The long-eared beast easily maneuvered around the tusks, overpowering the hooved centipede with a snap of its massive toothy mouth.
It let out moist, pained squeals, flailing its dozens of hooves, as the serrated teeth pinched down on its slimy, furry head. But it did not kill.
"What did I say about attacking your brother, Yuna? Older siblings should act as a role model." spoke the last figure. A long, twisted spiked chain connected the canine-like entity to this third cloaked. A tall, womanly figure who turned towards the girl with a menacing glare. With a yank, the snarling world was brought to heel. Vanishing into smoke.
The indignant girl crossed her arms. Her own chain dangling on a chocker at her neck. "What? He started it! He deserves to be gored, the sniveling, snide cretin!"
"Heh. I was simply stating the facts." He was laughing now. The sides of his lips became unhinged, revealing his back molar teeth. They snapped in his act of revelry. "Hehe! Haha! Truth hurts, doesn't it? Sore loser!"
"--Why! We'll see whose laughing last, you little freak!" she snarled, seizing the collar of his jacket with her long, manicured nails. This only caused him to burst out laughing more hysterically.
"Hush. Let's not air out bad laundry in front of prying eyes." said the leader figure, now tilting her head over to Alba and Wisteria. In the dim skylight, their eyes shimmered like iridescent jades, and they would see a confident, sharp-toothed smile. "We have fresh meat. Make sure not to get too excited. And get answers out of them, this time."
The three figures shifted. The hooded man continued to laugh uncontrollably, holding his belly, while the two woman stepped forward. If he had a tamed beast, it has yet to be seen. A thick, spiked chain dangled down his bicep nonetheless. The 'younger sister' sneered, sticking out her long, slender split tongue. The older, dignified with curling pale hair woman simply maintained her piercing glare. Their thick black chains flicking into action, like the snap of a whip.
Immediately, the smoky long-earred 'wolf' manifested from a dark corner, large bellowing black holes for eyes. The spectral beast let out a snickering howl before, swirling backwards. It seemed to meld with the shadow cast by the tall structures all around. Completely disappearing from sight. The only way they even knew were it might be, was due to its excited, quick breathing. The snapping jaw covered by thousands of teeth would prove to be extremely elusive, like trying to strike at smoke. No amount of attack would find true.
At the same time, the mutilated, sticky monster let out a sickening grunt before its dozens of tiny legs began to skitter erratically, charging the two head-first with its curled tusks. Its revolting, pus-dripped hide would prove impervious to most forms of attack. Not that it was particularly tough. The warped, slick flesh simply regenerated too quickly. The creature was severely unwieldy, relying on flailing frantically while flinging itself in a direction to overwhelm its prey. Getting caught in any of its dozens of flapping hooves certainly meant a quick trampling death. Yet, they were not particularly useful for turning.
"Look at what they've done! My favorite noodle spot. Those rotten vultures! I'll rip their wings!" screamed a man, followed by the voice of another, "I'll gut them! I'll gut them! If it's the last thing I do!"
Snowdrop had jumped down after Daisy into the hole. The tiny form flopped down like a tissue, then reached out. They clung to the rung of the ladder leading down into the rancid, tunnels deep below. Their pale flowers on their body began to glimmer, but they instantly suppressed it. Favoring the cloak of darkness. They listened to the swears and threats of the smoke wandering mobs. Waiting for the nearby voices to go away. That is when the tiny nun poked the tip of their head out of the manhole. Their eyes scanned back and forth in the smoke. Then, they cuffed a clawed hand and placed it against the mouth of the mask.
"I see one!" shouting in the voice of one the rowdy, killer groupies. "There in that alley! It's that cowardly, blonde bitch-haired wannabe popstar! She abandoned her colleagues, and is trying to sneak away! Fuck her up!"
Several figures of the crowd immediately set to charge, attacking the confused lone rat who screamed and tried fighting back. The shadows blurred in a frenzied pile of limbs, that grew with each new attacker throwing themselves at it. Friend or foe, they smashed into one another. What human shape dissolved into a screaming blob. Resembling a thrashing headless beast. Snowdrop quickly hoisted themselves out of the manhole. They could feel the others still fluttering inside. With the commotion occupying the attention of the mob, this was their chance to escape undetected, and regroup.
Next, there was loud rumble. Above, distant sounds of howling and squealing. What did those two get themselves into?
Snowdrop looked to Daisy, seeing what she would do. They would follow.
...
They were approaching the top of the winding staircase, the familiar side street would soon come back into sight for Alba and Wisteria. Reflecting off the towering skyscrapers that overlooked, the orange, burnt sky was in full view. The wild mob seemed to disperse there. Partially in part to the efforts to leave the path behind oozing with a treacherous hazard. Several bodies were already sinking in the corrosive pink river, having tried to press after the witch regardless. Their flesh washed clean of their bones. While others tried climbing over these half-melted forms, to little success.
The two Wallflowers, should they choose to pay attention, would uncover another detail. There, all the civilians exhibited a shared behavior. Littered across the sidewalk, within their shanty homes, and even in the middle of crossing the dusty road. Every soul simply stood upright where they were, silently bobbing and swaying. Like ragged blades of grass. Their eyes were closed. As if listening to something unheard.
Voices could be heard upon crossing over the last steps. But not before a body was flung. Like a sack of discarded meat, it soared past both of their heads. In that instant, they would recognize the chauffer uniform. And bite marks all across.
"Useless. That meat didn't even last a few nibbles." grumbled a high-pitchy whiny voice. One of the three shadows standing between the trails of metal shards, and long skid marks. Blood and meat chunks were scattered everywhere. And wilted petals of flowers.
Another cloaked shadow shifted. "Hmph. Maybe if you went a little easier, sis. You're always biting off more than you can chew."
"What did you say, you little brat? Is that how you should speak to your elder!?"
"Maybe, if you acted like one. So far, you're just a fuck up."
"I'll tear your face! We'll see who is the 'fuck up'!"
The slender girl spat out, throwing her fists as she screamed. Her flaring anger immediately manifested into a large animal that squelched as it moved. It crawled out from beneath her long, flowing skirt like a caterpillar squeezing out from a cocoon. The horrific, wet thing resembled a giant woodland amalgamation with patched, ratty fur, a drooling mouth stretched by large tusks, and many, many skittering legs like a centipede. The creature pounced at the lanky figure, when another emerged from the pure darkness. A spectral canine-like entity with rows of impossible amounts of teeth. Smoke and wet sludge scattered as the two heaving creatures collided, causing the buildings nearby to shudder.
The long-eared beast easily maneuvered around the tusks, overpowering the hooved centipede with a snap of its massive toothy mouth.
It let out moist, pained squeals, flailing its dozens of hooves, as the serrated teeth pinched down on its slimy, furry head. But it did not kill.
The indignant girl crossed her arms. Her own chain dangling on a chocker at her neck. "What? He started it! He deserves to be gored, the sniveling, snide cretin!"
"Heh. I was simply stating the facts." He was laughing now. The sides of his lips became unhinged, revealing his back molar teeth. They snapped in his act of revelry. "Hehe! Haha! Truth hurts, doesn't it? Sore loser!"
"--Why! We'll see whose laughing last, you little freak!" she snarled, seizing the collar of his jacket with her long, manicured nails. This only caused him to burst out laughing more hysterically.
"Hush. Let's not air out bad laundry in front of prying eyes." said the leader figure, now tilting her head over to Alba and Wisteria. In the dim skylight, their eyes shimmered like iridescent jades, and they would see a confident, sharp-toothed smile. "We have fresh meat. Make sure not to get too excited. And get answers out of them, this time."
The three figures shifted. The hooded man continued to laugh uncontrollably, holding his belly, while the two woman stepped forward. If he had a tamed beast, it has yet to be seen. A thick, spiked chain dangled down his bicep nonetheless. The 'younger sister' sneered, sticking out her long, slender split tongue. The older, dignified with curling pale hair woman simply maintained her piercing glare. Their thick black chains flicking into action, like the snap of a whip.
Immediately, the smoky long-earred 'wolf' manifested from a dark corner, large bellowing black holes for eyes. The spectral beast let out a snickering howl before, swirling backwards. It seemed to meld with the shadow cast by the tall structures all around. Completely disappearing from sight. The only way they even knew were it might be, was due to its excited, quick breathing. The snapping jaw covered by thousands of teeth would prove to be extremely elusive, like trying to strike at smoke. No amount of attack would find true.
No matter how either of them reacted, they were simply fighting for their lives. Eventually, it will snatch and devour Wisteria's rotten vulture. Which would have taken the killing blow in her stead. Perhaps they can use to opportunity to rethink their current predicament.
At the same time, the mutilated, sticky monster let out a sickening grunt before its dozens of tiny legs began to skitter erratically, charging the two head-first with its curled tusks. Its revolting, pus-dripped hide would prove impervious to most forms of attack. Not that it was particularly tough. The warped, slick flesh simply regenerated too quickly. The creature was severely unwieldy, relying on flailing frantically while flinging itself in a direction to overwhelm its prey. Getting caught in any of its dozens of flapping hooves certainly meant a quick trampling death. Yet, they were not particularly useful for turning.
Perhaps it can be lured to a disadvantageous position? They were clearly outmatched. The strange foes intended to 'keep them alive', yet this was the level of violence.
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ERode
In The Mirror
When Snowdrop turned back to look at Daisy, she could see very clearly that the ‘cowardly, blonde bitch-haired wannabe popstar’ was pouting at her. Her cheeks puffed out and her brows were furrowed, an expression that maximized cuteness while mimicking indignation, before grinning. Slapping her colleague on the back for the smart move, Daisy scrambled up the manhole once more, swivelling around to check for any of the Rat swarm, before turning her attention to the café.
Hm, everyone inside was still alive, but there was definitely no way to get in from the front anymore, huh? Daisy crossed her arms, squinting as she considered everything around her. There was still the Rat swarm, but then, up above, there were all sorts of crazy animal sounds. Problems for Wisteria and Alba to deal with, problems that had sent Zi Hua and their trucks tumbling down to begin with. Welp, that was hardly a decision to be made anymore!
Mentally praying that their own bodies don’t get tossed down into the café, the Grade 8 Fixer didn’t wait for Snowdrop to follow as she ran up to the pile of truck parts and concrete chunks. The multiplex hadn’t completely collapsed, after all, and the second floor was pretty accessible for the ever-nimble Daisy, who avoided anything that sparked or looked like it was made of metal as she climbed up to the top. Following the path of destruction left by the car-missiles, she poked and prodded through the ruptured flooring before finally coming across something that looked reasonably intact.
“One, two…WHAMMO!”
Galaxies glowed upon a patch of skin, her EGO granting her outsized strength as she swung her stolen bat and shattered what remained of the floor. Concrete dust rose up from the sizable hole, a strike that admittedly was only possible because the floor about the café had already been fairly fractured by the stress the entire building had suffered. A few more blows did the trick, however, and from there, it was enough room for a whole body to slide in and out through.
Daisy sniffed the air, then made a retching sound.
“Hiyo, guess we’re picking a different lunch spot, boss? I know a nice dumpling soup place, if you’re looking for recommendations!”
She poked her head over the hole she made, grinning down at her colleagues below, then offered a hand to help pull them up.
“Couple of the others went up to the top; think they’re gonna be fighting whatever sent Zi Hua down though, so we should see them pretty soon again.”
seasonedcat
bloodless
Rank 5 Fixer
Honey Locust
EGO: Thorns of Love
MURDER CAFÉ
Code by Serobliss
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