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

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Musai
SCENE:
Young Blood
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Young Blood

Musai strolled through the bustling streets of New Oasis, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. The aroma of various street foods wafted through the air as he maneuvered through the crowded marketplace. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, always on the lookout for anything interesting or potentially profitable.

As he walked, Musai noticed a street performer showcasing a mesmerizing fire dance. The flames danced gracefully to the rhythm of the accompanying music, captivating the audience. Musai couldn't help but watch with a hint of admiration, recognizing the skill behind the performance.

With a mischievous grin, Musai decided to join the impromptu street performance. He drew upon his own fiery abilities, conjuring flames that matched the rhythm of the music. The crowd gasped and cheered as Musai seamlessly integrated his unique talent into the spectacle. For a moment, he lost himself in the thrill of the performance, relishing the attention and applause.

Eventually, the street performer and Musai shared a nod of acknowledgment, and Musai continued his journey through the city. As Musai meandered through the city, he could see Hitoshi standing outside his cafe, which brightened Musai even more "Aye-yo! If it isn't Big Toe! Just the man who wanted to see me! Didn't want to conduct business inside or nothing? The thermostat isn't out again, is it?"


Roda the Red Roda the Red joshuadim joshuadim
 
DAIGO ASANUMA
CS Link
SCENE:
Anger Management
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1; August 1, 2019
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Daigo
ANGER MANAGEMENT
The dumpster caught the Ringleader off guard, sending him stumbling into a wall and leaving him wide open for Daigo's onslaught. His right hand landed into the man's guard while another ethereal fist worked its way into the man's stomach, causing him to spit out a gasp as the impact rippled through his body. By now, much of his fat reserves had been already burnt off - leaving a muscular and well defined figure in its wake open to attack. The man flew back and rolled onto the ground as Daigo spoke out: "WAS WONDERING WHEN YOU'D JOIN IN!" Daigo said to Charlie with a bloodied grin, "IF YOU FELL ASLEEP, I WOULD'VE KICKED YOUR ASS NEXT!"

Daigo then sweeped forward, coming from below with an uppercut from both his fist and the golden summon surrounding it; both struck at the man's lower jaw with an audible crack, sending him flying upwards before crashing back to the ground below. But he too was now in his own battle trance, as he panted heavily and quickly got back up on his feet. It was then that, with a roar, he slammed his fist into the ground below, sending a shockwave of debris towards both Charlie and Daigo. Both were pelted with large chunks of asphalt, forcing them both to guard, which left them in turn exposed to a brutal counterattack.

The Ringleader first chokeslammed Daigo into the ground after having closed the distance between the two of them. This was shortly followed by a brutal stomp onto the kid's chest, which he then followed up by dashing closer to Charlie and kicking him with a forward thrust back into a wall nearby. But neither was enough to keep either of them grounded for long, as they had both entered a fighting trance of their own. Daigo rolled up and, with a growl, delivered a series of blows to the Ringleader's back from his good fist and his other two summons. Each of the strikes pelted into the man's remaining fat reserves, causing his body to grow more and more lean while also intensifying the steam erupting from his body. And this also meant that the pain intensified with less and less natural protection in place, making the RIngleader recoil from the damage taken.

Wordlessly, he spun around and delivered a backhanded strike to Daigo's face which sent the youth spinning about to the ground nearby. Murderous intent gleaned in his eyes as he then took a step forward with intent to quash this insect at last. But, in his rage, this left a blind spot for Charlie!


Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
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Elias Yumin
SCENE:
In The Tigers' Web
TIME:
June 3rd, 2022 | Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1
LOCATION:
Nameless Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jennifer, Ezra, Elias, Dagger
In The Tigers' Web

Memory after memory gushed into Elias's mind like a raging tide. Since no one really stopped him, Elias went ahead and drained Jacob Weber of every memory the cultist had, from his birth to his current imprisonment in a Tiger’s private storefront; His experiences. The important events in his life. Everything. The more memories Elias gathered, the more his understanding of ‘Jacob Weber’ grew such that he was forced to contain the memories, lest they overtake him. And so, before he started to feel empathy for a man that was almost certainly about to die, Elias created a mental box in the corner of his mind, labeled it ‘Jacob Webber’, and stored all the memories inside. Sealed it up so that he, Elias Yumin, wouldn’t be influenced by the memories until he needed them.

Though he stepped back at Passeri’s request, Elias remained at the doorway to watch the idol’s inner struggle.

Watched Z step forward to stop her.

Watched Dagger do the deed.

Only Passeri’s rebuttal to Ezra, her claim that Jacob deserved death, caused Elias to tilt his head, but otherwise he watched the drama unfold like watching an interesting movie.Did any living being actually deserve death? Elias didn’t think so. No more than they deserved life. Unlike those with a strong moral compass, those like his ex-girlfriend, Elias’s world had always been shades of gray. He didn’t believe in sin. Right and wrong, good and evil, were something for the victors to decide. He believed in choices and their consequences. Jacob Webber had made a choice; His God over his daughter. It wasn’t a choice Elias by any means agreed with, but it was no different than Abraham’s choice to sacrifice his son in the Bible. In the story, Abraham had been rewarded for his obedience. In the nonfictional world, surrounded by Tigers, his choice incited his death.

Was it because he deserved it?

No.

It was because the people around him wanted it.

Because there was little point in continuing to try and negotiate with a fanatic that would discard his own heir for his cult.

Because for Passeri Park, Jack of the Albino Tigers, it seemed to have settled something. What? Elias couldn’t even begin to guess. However, it caused Yumin Entertainments young heir give the idol a considering glance before departing with Z and leaving the cleanup to the more experienced Tigers.

“Well...” Elias straightened his jacket. “That was certainly interesting.”

He hadn’t expected to encounter Passeri’s dark side,

Dagger’s protective side,

And Z’s courageous side all in one setting. It was a good memory to keep.

Eyes flickering from the Albino Knight to the new head of the Weber family in the boy’s arms, he wondered if giving Jennifer Weber the memories of her deceased father would be a 'good thing' or a 'bad' thing? Would she even benefit from the memory of her father’s betrayal? Or, was she better off with no memories at all? Perhaps a break from the Albino Tigers, while she sorted out family matters, was just the sort of thing the doctor would’ve ordered…Passeri said they could do what they want, after all. Removing her memories of gang life, changing her identity, and escaping the Tiger’s web via mental alteration was something Elijah was perfectly capable of giving her. Having the full collection of Jacob Weber’s memories, he even could pass it on to another body–after removing all its previous memories–and re-create ‘Jacob Weber’ in a sense.

It’d be an entertaining side-project. Pseudo-immortality through the passing of memories.

But was that better?

Ever since his interaction with a certain blonde Tiger, Elias had begun to have doubts. Asking the Weber-heiress, once she woke up, might be the better option--the least he could do for a fellow gang member, he supposed. Elias had more important things to work on. The new Jack of the Albino Tigers wanted a report on the relevant information Jacob knew, which meant Elias would have to spend the evening sorting through Jacob’s memories. Cult activities. Grant’s many, many sermons. What the upper echelons, descendants of New Oasis's first settlers, know, or at least believe, to be true.

One step closer to unveiling the city's hidden secrets.

As for what he’d tell her, well, it’d probably depend on what would lead to the more interesting outcome. For now, he wanted to relax.

“Care to join me for a drink?" Pulling a pair of sunglasses from his front pocket, Elias slid the shades over his eyes. "It’s what gangster-coworkers like to do after a good day’s work of interrogation and violent activities, is it not?” Given the determined expression on Ezra’s face, Elias didn’t think the youngest, relatively ignored Knight would accept Elijah’s offer, but he thought he’d ask before giving Ronald a call. Possibly Zach. While he might not like Locke, there were few in the city that knew of his darker facade. Was it a facade? Or was Elijah more in line with true personality whereas Elias Yumin was the facade he put up at his day-job. A mask he’d put on his entire life. Sometimes he didn’t know.


simj26 simj26 @Uasal The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit @Lucem @Saturn_moon
 
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ALICE
SCENE:
Two Can Cross the Threshold
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Alice, Charlie
Two Can Cross the Threshold
Alice was missing.

This time, there was no abductor. No rival gangsters destroying her home in search of the Tigers' "Golden Goose." No power-sniveling corporate seeing the girl as a moneybag to possess. Alice had simply walked away, muttering zilch to anybody.

And the culprit was a letter, stained with dried rainwater and dirt, feeling as though anymore pressure would tear it apart.

Mr. Hat (or Janay Fox to others), her enigmatic caretaker, never fully disappeared from thought. Every now and then, alone in her bedroom, Alice would imagine him outside the door. She'd open her mouth to call his name, eager to see what surprise he'd have for the day. Then she'd remember what happened. Where he "went." Then she'd wallow in bed, only imagining the surprise that could have been.

But out of all of his surprises, nothing could have prepared Alice for the letter.

Skimming through the flowery language, she gleamed two things: a meeting place, and the signer's name: one Mr. Hat.

Alice appreciated Dante's trust in giving her independence, yet she felt guilty for taking advantage of the lack of guards. She was running off of emotion, she knew that, and yet... She kept running. Reaching for the old life and the ignorant bliss that came with it.

That bliss lied in Central District, after much of the danger had surpassed. Where ruins made up the once prosperous lands. Beyond the grey pillars and rebar spikes. Through the darkness, where Alice began to have second thoughts about her venture. Clutching the letter close to her chest, her legs shook with each step. She didn't know what to think—if she was doing right to herself, or running away from her problems; if what she needed was an old friend, or someone to inspire the change she begged for.

But two things remained at the top of her mind: that she was in Central, and that she was all alone...

Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
CORVO CORDESCO
SCENE:
A Murder Under Starlight
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park, Corvo Cordesco
A Murder Under Starlight
Corvo was taken by surprise by Passeri's shift in attitude. From the fearful girl trying to keep a mask up to the passionate singer she'd only heard bits and pieces of. Although she felt like many of her words went over her head, Corvo was glad to alleviate her worries, if only temporarily. These were the reactions that made this job valuable—especially in a place like New Oasis, where the media made it feel like there was nothing but the gangs to this city.

"To answer your first question, he told me he likes 'the song where the lasers explode,' and to be honest, I don't know which one he's referring to. I'm not even sure he understands the lyrics!" she said with a delightful smirk. Corvo listened with intrigue, becoming somewhat reminiscent of listening to her son's excited ramblings. At the offer for free merch, she could already imagine the look on his face. "If little Silvio grows up to become your superfan, I doubt we'll ever see a cent—or the autograph, for that matter! Say, maybe we'll catch your next concert, and you could give them to him yourself? That would really make his day."

They took a left. The lights seemed to get dimmer and dimmer with each passing moment, much to her annoyance. No wonder this girl felt the need for security at night; the New Oasis city council can't even get their streets lit up! As they spoke, Corvo inwardly paid closer attention to her surroundings.

It was easy to forget that Passeri Park wasn't that popular. Corvo was no expert on the industry, but it definitely felt like she had the potential. "I know you'll make it big. If not, I'll rally all of Fusili to support you!" she said with a laugh. Even more so when Passeri went on about her homeland. "I can't say much about that. Truth be told, when I was younger, I was so confused why foreigners found Fusili so beautiful. My memories had more to do with smelly barns and pig slop, you see..." Corvo expected to be laughing; instead, she was mentally hitting herself for feeling nostalgic over such stupid things. It wasn't a feeling she hid, though. "But now? Part of me wishes my husband and I stayed there."

The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
Zachariah C. Locke
SCENE:
Fell and Cruel Hounds
LOCATION:
Actaeon's Rest, Central District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger, Corvo, Lily, Musai, Zach, Yushui
Fell and Cruel Hounds

A robot.

He was having a sniping battle with a robot…

...

…How cool was that!!!???

Ducking the retaliatory fire, Zachery Locke, aka Hawk of Scarlet Phoenixes, aka ‘Crow’ as he’d introduced himself to the ragtag group of criminals, once more moved. A sniper that stayed in one place was a dead sniper–or, at least, that was what his Phoenix teacher/sponsor had told him long ago. Smog–from a dropped smoke bomb– covered his silent steps as he relocated behind a billboard.

Though, if the robotic hunter had some form of thermal sensors, visual neutralizers were moot. Zach wished he had the foresight to bring along some electronic disablers, but, alas, he hadn’t thought he’d be fighting a robot.

Grinning from ear to ear, Zach readied himself to let loose another lazer beam as a mechanical bird swooped in.

Naturally, he’d seen the bird coming. However, seeing was different from reacting, especially when the fight had turned into two versus one.

“Woah there~” Swaying away from the talons that threatened his eyes, Zach reversed his grip on his elongated weapon and whacked at the bird as if he was holding a bat. Definitely not how a gun-lover would treat their beauty, but alas, the mechanical creature had gotten a little too close for comfort. “Aren’t you a fast one~?”

Of course a hunter would have a pet. Classic.

Zach would consider getting his own, but alas, training one seemed too much effort.

Besides, he was the bird. A Phoenix, to be precise.

Jumping back (a good distance more than an NP could manage), more reds tore through the night sky as Zach ran, luring the avian in the direction he wanted. One shot for the owl. Another for its mechanical owner. Zach licked his lips, excitement glinting behind the shades that always covered his eyes, as explosions sounded behind him. Hopefully, the others were having just as much fun.


simj26 simj26 The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters- Elenion Aura Elenion Aura AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa @ATurei @Seaquill
 
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Hiyma
SCENE:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
LOCATION:
South District: The Roost
PARTICIPANTS:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

Hiyma was both surprised and annoyed to say the least, her shadow walls were suppose to be pretty strong in this type of condition, though perhaps the small amount of light in the area weakened it somewhat. Still though it shouldn't have been that weakened but her Charlie was, able to push past her Shadow wall in order to grab Red, something that earned muttered curses under her breath. Her Shadow wall making skills weren't as potent as the ones she heard Syrup had, but they were supposably decent enough to usually get the job done. With the exception of this case, though she will admit that while the feat was a bit impressive much to her annoyance it was definitely something she was gonna note down in Charlies file later on. Red was of course was pissed off by the whole development, big surprised there, but she was pretty sure that Red was about ready to draw out and attack due to Charlie being a bit too antagonistic and aggressive with her something she defiantly didn't want. Though she was a bit more concerned for Reds safety then Charlie as she knew better than anyone else just how tough the boys skin was to pierce, it being that way since his trials and she had no doubt that he only improved himself both physical and potential wise since then.

Before Hiyma could think of something to do in order to stop the group from going for each other's heads, her Shadow Wall burst open, "For dams sake." she then directed her attention to the intrusion. It was definitely not Helva, she would of been contacted and told to open it up if it was, no it was one of Reds Sponsorees, and it was her most Chaotic Sponsorees too Shrike, just wonderful. As the boy moved through the hole in the Shadow Wall carrying behind some baggage that she already knew the contents of cause of his type of work, the Shadow Wall begam to automatically seal itself recovering from the boys little destruction attack. Shrike was either going to make this situation better or worse, and once he began to speak out loud, she knew her answer, Worse, much worse. The boy had as much tact as a brick, and she knew that he was not going to be any asset to Reds case, and barely one in helping her out, Hiyma didn't even know why she was trying anymore. At this point she wanted to lay down on the ground and cry, she didn't sign up for this, this was Helvas job, she only really signed up to take care of one kid and that was her, maybe even her Sponsorees cause they had grown on her quite a bit, but Helva was using her to help bring a bit of order to a entire gang built on controlled Chaos, and with the King gone, the control part became a bit fazed out.The only thing she could manage to do at the moment was face palm, and say "Arrrg, was der fick, GAH!"


Helva
SCENE:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
LOCATION:
South District: The Roost
PARTICIPANTS:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

Helva could tell Hiyma was frustrated as she gave a briefing of the situation, she had finally arrived to the Roost, her outfit was still soaked in blood, from a job she so rudely got taken away from. It was very unfortunate, she had her gun and tomahawk holstered in her coat. She then opened her car door and popped her trunk open, grabbing both a First Aid Kit and Defibrillator before closing it and walking into the Roost, the blood on her has just about dried up, Hiyma and Yizlo would call her a bloody mess if they saw her. But she didn't really have any time to clean up, as her attention was demanded to be here, all because of problems and misunderstandings. Helva wasn't happy in the least, but she was the one stuck with the task of calming everyone down, she Red and her little troublemaker of a Sponsoree both impulsive as hell, and her own Sponsoree was someone she knew better than just about everyone there as well. Elenore was probably the person she had the least knowledge about, but that knowledge of her was still a bit extensive. Without further delay Helva made her way to the Roost notifying Hiyma telepathically to part the Shadows before her, which they just about instantly did, and as Helva walked through she approached to the side of Shrike giving him a annoyed stare before looking at the others in the area. The Shadow Wall closed behind her as she was now fully inside the roost. She delived a glare to everyone in it before her eyes settle on Pei who was on the ground, Helva then simply sent a Telepathic message to Hiyma who ran to her, grabbing the Medical equipment from her hand before attending to Pei. Then Helva asked "What, in the six hells, is going on..." Of course she knew what was going on after being briefed by Hiyma, but she figured that she needed to grab peoples attention first. "And what the bloody hell, Red and Temperer." She wasn't going to give out any threats yet, she really wasn't fond of the idea of people she had connections to, fighting each other for real.

While Helva delt with everyone in the Roost Hiyma rushed over tearing Peis shirt and patching up his wounds pouring alcohol and bandaging up his wound before setting up the Defibrillator and checking for any sort of pulse, before starting the process of CPR. A process that she learned the basics of because of school and figuring that it would be a decent skill to know when in a gang with a bunch of impulsive violent children like the Phoenixes.
 
Zachariah C. Locke
SCENE:
Bedlam Blitz!
LOCATION:
Whitepeak South District - Behind ATV store
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2021; Early morning
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Leaf, Zach
Bedlam Blitz!

Shaking his head amusedly, Zach got off the hood of Bolt’s car as soon as the in-gang tension started. Leave it to the Phoenixes to get into fight in the midst of a ‘spy’ session. And the information-gathering had been going so well too…

Sliding in next to the newly arrived Phoenix Queen, Zach gave Hector a quick elbow nudge. “Psst~ Tell Raquel not to eat the new rookie. We ain’t got time for that shit and, as you know, she only listens to you, Queenie~”

Heck, didn’t Hector sponsor Milo into the gang as well? Or was it someone else? Zach didn’t pay enough attention to the new rookies to know or care.

He wasn’t even the sort to get involved in intra-gang fights. Disputes were settled with fists. That was the Phoenix way. The Scarlet Phoenixes of the South, despite their ‘familial’ nature, were well known for their frequent brawls, after all. Under normal circumstances, Zach would’ve just let them duke out their problems. Either the rookie got put in their place or Gourmet got taken down a peg. It didn’t matter to him either way…so long as no one got killed.

But not in the midst of a reconnaissance mission.

“Dear me!” Stepping up to the old man (from the other side), Zach took the withered palm (not the one Raquel had) gently in his hands. Tears ran down the sunglasses-wearing Phoenix's face. “What troubles you and your family face! But worry not! Our boss, the Phoenix King, actually told us to tell you to cancel the shipments. He doesn’t need them anymore. So go…go and get your money back! Heck, sell all the gas canisters in the storage if you must! Armond will understand.”

One way or another.

Raquel wanted to know the location of the shipment delivery, likely so they could mess shipment, possibly even find the fake Phoenix King’s base (if he were stupid), but this way worked just as well. It’d draw Armond–or at least his goons–to them if the bikes weren’t delivered on the fifteenth. Mess with their plans too.

Zach glanced at his fellow Phoenixes. “In fact, we can stay with you! That way, if Armond shows up, we can very kindly explain to him about your family’s situation. I’m positive he’d be as sympathetic as I am to your plight! He and I are very close, you know. Like two peas in a pod!”

Never mind the fact that Zach didn’t even really remember Armond’s face. He’d only ever heard, from some second-hand source, that someone with said name had been kicked out the gang…and he could see why. Lyric had zero tolerance when it came to bullying civilians–especially the ones in the South District. Their District.

“What do you guys think? Isn’t this a better plan?”

It wasn’t the nicest one. In fact, it put the family at risk if Armond, and whatever goons he gathered, actually came to their doorstep. Unintentionally, the old man would be disobeying Armond, thereby earning the fake King’s wrath. However, it was the best he could come up with given what the rookie had started. And they’d be there. If they defeated Armond, the problem would be solved. No sweat...though reinforcements couldn't hurt. They had 5 days to lay down a trap. Plenty of time.

Not like the old man’s family wasn’t doomed (financially) when the third shipment came around anyway.

Despite most of what he’d said being lies, Zach’s sympathy hadn’t been faked. He’d lived in poverty before. His family (of 7) had been homeless for a short period. It sucked.

He’d intended to leave things up to the rookies, to see what the new Ace, Vulken’s brother, was capable of, but if they couldn’t get their act together to help a single old man, on a simple reconnaissance job, god-forbid they carry the weight of the Phoenix gang on their back. Raquel wasn’t even a rookie.

Glancing between Gourmet and the rookie who had his hand on the man-eater’s shoulder, Zach rolled his eyes (hidden behind his sunglasses). He looked to Hector, who was the actual highest present in terms of gang rank. He’d defer to the Phoenix Queen when it came to decision-making. However, if the Queen said something he completely disagreed with, he’d give Hector a piece of his mind regardless–just as he’d done with Lyric all those years ago. Loyalty wasn’t blind obedience.

And he had his own opinion about a family killing each other over a fuckin’ crown, but Zach wasn’t willing to push his luck. At least, not yet.


@Doctor Llamabean @FangS31 Elenion Aura Elenion Aura @Misuteeku @Astrylan @Haze-
 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Playing With Fire
TIME:
July 17th, 2022
LOCATION:
Discreet Van, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger, Vulken, Yong-Yut
Playing With Fire
It was often now that Passeri came to the South. Since the day when she’d brought each side of the South-East bridge together, she’d trundled over it countless times. Sometimes in the back of a luxury taxi as Passeri Park, and other times whilst enjoying the anonymity of an old, beat-up van, under guise of whatever alternative identity struck her fancy that day. Regardless of how she tread it though, the path was no different. She recognized the landmarks, that which never changed, but what had caught her fancy was that which did. The slow, creeping ascent of what was once struck low. It had been ages since the now years-old tragedy which had struck the South, and while the scars still remained, they were still just that. Scars. What had once been open, festering wounds were now no more than somber reminders of the past.

Something that had been overcome. Maybe not fully, not yet, but behind them nonetheless. As harshly as it may have been struck down, the South was healing. With whatever scant embers of faith she had left, Passeri hoped that she could say the same of Central one day. That she’d look back on all of this as something that had been overcome.

But that was not something that came easy, nor was it a gift that was given. She’d seen it during her stints in the South, the blood and sweat and tears with which its people fought for everything they had and had once had. That was a lesson she’d learned in the West, the second time left her life behind.

What one wanted, one had to take. What one treasured, one had to protect.

Today, though, what she sought to protect was not something that she treasured. In another life, one where the cards had fallen just a bit differently, she could have imagined herself on the other side of Hashimoto's little war. The heart of a younger, brighter Passeri Park had been a much more fertile thing, plush soil in which the Queen’s stalwart convictions might have taken root, but it was years too late for that, and she was in countless fathoms too deep.

“You mentioned that you recognized him, right?” The outer reaches of the South crawled through a car side window. Not much stirred beyond. Ever since that awful outbreak of beasts on July 12th, the city had been deadly quiet. The earthquake had been a tragedy, too, but it was at least one that had ended. Even now monsters skulked through the dark corners of New Oasis, and Passeri was sure that they would do so for years to come. If she really was the toothless diva to which she presented herself to the world as, then she would have been doing much the same as all the poor men and women still huddled inside of their homes, just as she had on the day itself.

“It might’ve been from that day with the bridge. Do you remember that?” Things had been so much simpler back then. “I did some digging, and as it turns out a lot of the people who turned up from the South tie back to the Phoenixes in some way or another.” That had been the whole point, after all, though today she was hoping to aim the head of that would-be spear in a much different direction than she’d ever expected. “Him included. The former Jack, no less, and the brother of the current Ace, too… He’s an important guy around these parts, and if the word on the street is right, he has some kind of history with Weiss.”

Despite her efforts, Passeri knew little of the Phoenixes. They were a tight-knit bunch for whom idle gossip about one another was reserved for their own ears only. But even from a distance, she had managed to glean the shape of something. Unlike the Tigers they, at least, seemed to care for their district and its people. Many of the wounds that the hurricane had left had been sewn shut by their hands alone, and through her charity work she’d seen firsthand how they cared for their people. Of course, they were not perfect. None of the city’s gangs were. They were murderers who made a business out of death. A few months ago, she might’ve been able to rally her indignation against such a thing, but now it would’ve been blatant hypocrisy. Killers, she knew, could be kind too. Present company had taught her that much.

“Knowing him they probably just want to kill each other, but… Must be worth a try, right? As much as I’d like to keep this nonsense between him and Hashimoto within the Tigers, who knows how deep his roots there already go?” She breathed that weary, exhausted sigh that had become so familiar in such a short span of time. "I'd like to make some allies that he hasn't already bought off, at least."

Vulken Beckman. The alluded to man of the hour. Given his extensive tenure within the Phoenixes, he hadn't exactly been a difficult man to gather information on but it had still been less than she liked. What she had in front of her was a puzzle that presented only the outline of the man. First, she needed to fill it. Second, she needed to ensure his was a fire that wasn't going to leave her blistered and burned. Weiss, after all, was hardly the sort of ice that she could plunge her scorched fingers into to recover.

"Okay..." Passeri's hands hesitated at the car's door as it rolled to a stop. Open despite current events, their destination sat nestled within a nearby alley just down the street. A Sankai place, ironically enough. "You know I trust you right, Elise? If anything catches your notice today, let me know. At this point I think it's clear you've got a better nose for danger than I do..."

The door swung wide with a dull click, and Passeri's feet met pavement.

"But if you don't have any objections yet... How about we get going?" If there was anything she was grateful for today, it was that. The absence of the singular. We, in place of I. "I told him to arrive around ten minutes from now. Pays to be there first, you know?"

 
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HIFUMI BAE
SCENE:
[Three Most Scariest Things To Wake Up To]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 | May 29th, 2022
LOCATION:
Taiyōkō Shrine, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hifumi
THREE MOST SCARIEST THINGS TO WAKE UP TO
He should have been focusing on the upcoming mission. Hifumi knew as much.

But the shrine was his family’s pursuit. Wondrous labor his mother had seen even in the decline of recognition and prestige—and when she became unable, her daughter took over both coordination and maintenance of the weathered structure. It was a ‘pitiable duty far from what the blood of a High Family should conduct.’ Those were the words his father would always utter, yet the pale-haired son found himself sweeping the idle paths all the same.

The many keepers could have done so by themselves, but the motions allowed him to feel just a bit closer to the feelings he had so dutifully trapped away. They were pointlessly monotonous. Most of the tasks he executed were just simple things that could be done by most anyone. That was to say, they were tasks devoid of skill but ravenous to consume time. That may as well have been the meaning of it all, behind the sweetened words. Truly, the young man just wanted to get away from the pressure that responsibilities wrought, and just breathe in the peacefully scented—

Vomit?!

There was anger, and shock of course, but the thick of it all was drowned out by genuine disgust.

“You”—he gagged—“vile… revolting… foul… repulsive—”

His barrage of likened words continued until the sound of fallen broom transitioned his attack.

“Have you any idea where you are?!” He squeaked.
NAVIGATE
 
HIFUMI BAE
SCENE:
[Legacy Lost]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 13th, 2022
LOCATION:
Zhànzhēng, East District | Silverlit Grounds
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Deirest
LEGACY LOST
There was too much thought between the then and the now. The tea which he had been leisure to brew, was already seeping into the air in full declaration of completion. His mind had no problem turning the gears that resulted in a warm beverage, yet stalled and froze at words that were truly far too disjointed to comprehend. Even if they were the most coherent of the night, this was a puzzle with dulled edges—perhaps something to ponder, but surely not complete.

“Lost, huh?” He mumbled subsequently.

The concentration it took to take in the words of the woman before him was deafening. The sound of the candle’s flame and the soft wind blowing in from the room several over, both were blending into the realization of selfishness. It didn’t matter what the interloper before him said, he was only hearing his own troubles. ‘Help her?’ No. That was just an excuse to hide away the shame and powerlessness—

A soft hiss escaped his lips as result of the scolding liquid breaching over upon his skin.

There was a sigh, and then evident gratitude. At the very least, that line of thinking wasn’t going to benefit either party. What was or wasn’t, and has or hasn’t was just a matter of the decisions and choices that were to be made. Feelings didn’t need to play any part in that. Plus the mishap granted him a bountiful consideration: it was best not serve this guest tea that was too hot.

Thus, when the tea was set nearby it was cooled prior. Not quite lukewarm, but there would be no meeting the expectations of any other.

“I”—there was hesitation, a hefty release of shame. ”Yes I suppose. I continue to exist in the past even as the future beckons.” His eyes raised, but quickly dimmed.
“In your case: in trying to find what you lost, you inevitably wound up lost. Some might amount that to fate.
But I do not think that is true.”

It wasn’t like he didn’t recognize the recklessness of what he was about to say.

“If what you are looking for is something in a fragmented place like this—”

“Maybe it is not so important after all.”
NAVIGATE
 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Meet and Grit
LOCATION:
The Third Eye, Central District
TIME:
Morning, July 8th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Keith
Meet and Grit
The urge to empty the contents of his stomach were overwhelming, as the filthy rat continued to shower him with twisted praise. Not only was he confident that his words were griveously coated in irony and sarcasm, but regardless, the mere fact that a sable serpent was giving him compliments was horrid beyond human comprehension. "Say whatever you want, it won't get you anywhere." His response was glacial and monotone, his gaze not even even meeting the serpent's.
His gloves, unfortunately, seemed like they were lost for good, for the time being, taken by the disgusting two-toned brat.
"Tch, so be it, I have plenty of spares anyways" He continued to keep his sights away from Peyton, not even wanting to give him the satisfaction of his complete attention. However, the dragon the leaned over to the serpent, foreheads nearly touching as their eyes met, murderous carmine peals staring down at the shorter man.
"However, I will rejoice once I get to retrieve them from your cold, lifeless body."

He took a step back, regaining his placement as the one in from within the trio, his hands finding refugee inside of his pockets. Veronica herself stared confused at the simmering drama, not quite able to point down whether the two boys were friends, enemies or lovers...Or some awkward placement somewhere in this triangle of labels.

Short, and quiet steps took the group forward, Keith himself now just mere feet away from the entrance, a remarkable amount of bodyguards remained vigilant, making sure that no suspicious people attempted to get inside. Keith's stern expression softened immediately as the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of the inside of the bookstore. A line of just a few feet trailed from past the door, and in a single, large oak desk, was none other than Nora J. Mallick signing away at copies of her works, the sole reason for Keith to leave the comfort of his home and venture into this unpleasant odyssey.

Sin título.png


Despite the hellish company, it all felt worth it in the end.

Staring at the nearby guards, Keith could only hope that his hideous red limbs, now in full display, wouldn't be any cause for suspicion from security.




@Coyote Hart
 
Elias Yumin
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
TIME:
June 16th, 2022 | Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Moon, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Dagger, Misty
Clad in Golden Dreams

“There you go,” Elias helped a well-dressed, old man to his feet and towards the ballroom’s exit. “Please be careful where you walk, Chairman Vanbert. There’s shattered glass everywhere.”

“Thank you, thank you! I shall remember this, Mr. Yumin. Your father is blessed to have such a compassionate and promising heir,”

“You are too kind, Sir.”
Waving away the compliment with faked humility, Elias bid the head of V-Mart’s Board of Directors farewell before letting out a sigh. Unbeknownst to Chairman Vanbert, Elias’s ‘kindness’ came with a price–an invasion of privacy as Elias delved into the memories of one Brandon Vanbert. Chairman Vanbert wasn’t the only individual who Elias had ‘helped’ in his search for the perp behind the chaos. Every chance for physical contact, every reach of the hand, was met with vigor.

While he had yet to identify the employer of Weis’s assassins, Elias did acquire some…interesting…information. More data to add to this bank of blackmail material.

Once more leaning near the ballroom’s main exit/entrance, Elias checked his watch as smoke–and bright light–heralded the arrival of two new Tigers: Dagger and Carat. Dagger he knew. It was no surprise, given the closeness he’d seen, that Passeri would have the mercenary hidden in the wings somewhere. Carat, on the other hand, was a relatively new face, though his crystalline potential gave away his identity.

Elias had only ever heard rumors about the Carbon Project.

b198945-haCa0AvQa3qW.png

“Are we done here?” His date for the night held a handkerchief to her face, likely to ward off the steadily spreading smoke.

“That depends…”

“On what?”

“Don’t you want to see how this all ends?”


Lihua looked at him as if he were crazy. Elias didn’t blame her. Without outright revealing himself as an Albino Tiger, it was hard to justify not leaving the ballroom with the rest of the party-goers. The ones brave enough to leave their nest under the table, that is.

“I never took you for the curious type, Mr. Yumin.”

“Elias,”
Yumin Entertainment’s CFO corrected pleasantly. “We’re on a date, after all. I’m sure there are many things you’ll learn about me before the night is over.”

Taking the Xen daughter by the wrist, Elias pulled her towards him as a plate shattered near where her head had once been. “In all seriousness though, feel free to take your leave with the others. Don’t mind my father. He’s a traditional man with far too many principles for this day and age.”

“...I’m fine.”

“Because of your Potential?”


For a brief moment, Lihua’s eyes widened, but they just as quickly narrowed in a calculating manner. He could see the wheels in the business woman's head churning as she tried to solve the puzzle he presented. Naturally, he’d already seen into her memories. On the first day they met, in fact. How long until she connected the dots? Would she ever? Elias couldn’t deny that he got a bit of thrill from throwing hints around, whether it be his alias or a simple word here and there. He rarely ever told anyone his potential. To most of the world–and even to his parents–Elias Yumin, Yumin Entertainment’s sole heir, was an NP.

Her eyes flickered to the gun in his hand. “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t put so much stock in such things if I were you, Miss Xen. They tend to be unreliable.”

“Shall we make a bet then?”

“On what?”


She whispered the answer in his ear.

“Interesting…” Elias cocked his head. “But I don’t see what’s in it for me,”

“I won’t tell your parents about your underworld side hustles,”


Elias blinked. Then he laughed. It wasn’t a loud or boisterous sound. Elias’s laughter tended to come out in short, rich-sounding chuckles, but they expressed amusement all the same. If only she knew how easy it would be for Elias to wipe everything she’d gathered about him from her mind. If Lihua Xen had actually known the specifics of his potential, Elias doubted she would’ve let him touch her. She wasn’t Mei-Rin. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to curry my parents’ favor rather than mine?”

“Because I am. Trying to curry your favor would be a waste of my time,”
Lihua’s eyes locked on his. “Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re right,”
Letting go of Lihua’s wrist, Elias checked the cartridges in his stolen gun. “Very well. I could do with some amusement.”

Shooting was downright impossible with all the pink walls and smoke--assuming he didn't want to hit allies or innocents, that is; It limited his ability to assist in the battle. Not that Elias had intended to do very much fighting in the first place. His potential was best used for information-gathering. Should any of the assassins be captured alive, the mastermind behind the assassination attempt could be discovered. Possibly.

However, given the Cold King’s temper, Elias wouldn’t be surprised if all the assassins turned into popsicles in the next minute either.

“Get ready.”

“Hm?”


Instead of answering, Lihua adjusted the position of his gun.

A minute later, a masked, suited figure burst–with extraordinary speed–straight from the smog and into his line of fire. Whether their intention had been to attack a civilian, take one hostage, or make a beeline for the exit, Elias didn’t wait to find out. He pulled the trigger. Bugs near the area scattered.


@Haste @Lucem Elenion Aura Elenion Aura The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit miki miki thebigfella thebigfella simj26 simj26 AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa @BriiAngelic Azure Sky Azure Sky
 
Last edited:
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Anger Management
TIME:
Daytime, Pre-Arc 1, August 1st 2019
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Daigo
Anger Management
"Way to thank the one helping you" He responded drily, while nowhere near as wrathful as the kid, his tone was worlds appart from his previous happy dog-like attitude.

It was almost frustrating, how fast the ringleader was. One would think that such a hulking frame would not belie such speed. Charlie's back dug into the concrete wall as he was shot backwards, pain rippling throughout his muscle fibers and bones. The boy groaned compulsively, but in his current state, he felt that nothing could truly stop him, be it after another strike, or a thousand.

Once he saw that the ringleader's back was free for an attack, Charlie jumped into action straight away. He leapt off the human-shaped hole on the wall, his elbow striking at the large man's back, a rib cracking loudly against the acute pressure from the blow, all thanks to the now nearly-depleted fat reserves in the man's body. He grunted as he threw his arm back, turning around to strick at the boy with his heavy forearm.

Just in time, Charlie was able to raise his free arm, taking the brunt of the impact. His ear rang from the powerful attack as his own arm recoiled against the side of his head. Still a much better result than taking to strike in full, though. The inertia pushed him to the side, skidding on the damaged terrain as his footwear screeched.

But rest is for the dead.

Almost as if he bounced off from the pushback, the boy immediately lunged forward once more. Blocking a powerful straight jab from ringleader, Charlie aimed a kick at the ringleader's side of the knee. The man in fancy clothing's leg bent involuntarily, throwing his balance off as his arms flailed briefly to recover control. It was during this flailing that Charlie threw himself at one of the arms, wrapping his own around it, veins bulged as the ringleader's limb was under a vice-like grip.

With a ferocious cry, Charlie pulled up on the man, lifting him off the ground and above himself, slamming the ring leader on the ground, the courtyard's pavement giving in to the criminal's crashing body. Relentless and determined, the boy pulled once more, pulling the man up. The ringleader audibly struggled against the move, but his exhausted condition and disadvantageous position denied him the fruits of his efforts, his massive body being dragged around like a mere sack. He hit the ground once more, howling as his lean body took heavy damage. Before he could utter a word, the process repeated for a third time.

Now aiming upwards, Charlie pulled on the ringleader for a fourth time, building up momentum by spinning in place twice, before he released on the arm with a shout, sending the ringleader several meters up in the air, the immense strain on the boy's muscles causing him to stumble on the ground afterwards. With his entire body aching painfully, getting back on his feet was going to be a struggle and a half, for sure.


joshuadim joshuadim
 
DAIGO ASANUMA
CS Link
SCENE:
Anger Management
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1; August 1, 2019
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Daigo
ANGER MANAGEMENT
The Ringleader, shocked at how wrong things had gone for him in such a short period, could only let out a gasp of shock as he was flailed around by Charlie. A figure much smaller than him being able to do that was - in the eyes of this thug - incredible. And soon after, he was flung upwards into the air and flailed around in a panic as he tried to regain his bearings. The world around him spun and doubled, making it impossible to determine from his perspective as to just how bad his situation was. And worse still for him, Daigo had leapt up in the air to intercept him.

The firebrand extended a hand outwards and, with a yell, sent out one of the arms that had materialized from his aura and slammed it into the RIngleader with an open palm. With staggering force, he then slammed the man into the upper floors of a nearby building. A hole broke through as a man was thrust into what appeared to be a storage room of sorts, leaving him covered in a mess of materials and random objects. With this final eruption of energy, the Ringleader's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he let out a gasp. His body went limp as he fell unconscious, defeated by two of what he would have considered as gnats.

Daigo landed back onto the ground, stumbling a bit in place as his aura then began to recede quickly. And just as quickly, his condition became much more apparent as laboured wheezing could be heard from him before stumbling towards the dumpster nearby that Charlie had thrown and coughed up a spattering of blood. For a moment he remained quiet as he gathered what strength he had left before turning his gaze to Charlie nearby. His hair, slick with sweat and blood, hung over his eyes as he breathed in with difficulty. There wasn't any of that youthful fire left flickering in his gaze, but rather a more somber outlook. "...why did you help me?"


Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
TIME:
July 10th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Maw’s Warehouse, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lenras, Passeri
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
This sort of preparedness was not typical of a warehouse. Not that she frequented the things, but even a woman such as herself whose collar knew not a hint of blue could gather it. There was a precision here. A careful consideration of what went here, not just for the sake of organization, but for that of imposition too. It reminded Passeri of her shows. The fine-toothed manner in which she and her crew would comb through every facet, every placement of a spotlight and consideration of the view. It took a certain kind of mind to consider these things, and an especially proficient one to make such delicate use of such a barren space.

With every imposition, though, came something that was trying to be imposed. A glimpse into the mind behind it. As Passeri followed Wallet through the warehouse, the glimpse she caught was one of mindfulness. Precision and peculiarity. This had all been prepared very nicely, yes, but in the end they were still in a warehouse. The ceilings were high and drafty, and the walls cold and soulless. No manner of careful furnishing could hide that, and yet, the effort had still been spent.

The Albino Tigers' world was one of pointless posturing, but this... This rang different. Different from that of Hashimoto's ritzy dinners and Weiss's chilly glower. Absent, was the flaunting of power and capital. A different sort of confidence dwelled here, though she could not quite yet put a pin in it.

"Oh, no... That's fine. I only do water at this time of the day anyway." Passeri offered her guide a slight smile. "Does Motesfont entertain guests here often, it's quite well put together for a... Well. For a warehouse." Curiosity, rather than judgment fueled Passeri's words. She knew Motesfont as a man of science, but all of this reminded her more of the arts. She'd encountered numberless actors and musicians with queer haunts such as this.

"It's quite a pleasant surprise, really. When I found an invitation to a warehouse this far on the edge of town, I half expected I was going to be mugged, you know?" Though for all the niceties, she still couldn't speak much for the insulation. The outside, nighttime chill seemed to drift straight through the warehouse's steel walls, and then consequentially straight through her dress, too.

She fought back a shiver. In no universe would it be proper for the Jack of the Albino Tigers to ask for a blanket.

 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
LOCATION:
Azure Dragon HQ, East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, June 17th 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Takakazu, Kisara, Keith
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
"No! Look I'm not trying to avoid anything, we can sort it out later but just-" No matter what Keith's response was, the homeless-looking man seemed as steadfast as it gets. The young dragon brushed his palm down his face in frustration, razor-sharp fingers carefully spread open as to not make contact with his skin. "Don't you understand that I'm trying to save you? Just how thick-headed can you be-?!" Keith's eyes went wide as he caught glimpse of a bright orange gleam.

He could be extremely thick-headed, it seems. Quite literally so.

"H-Hey! YOUR HEAD, THERE'S FIRE!" He dramatically extended his arm forward, his stance slouching slightly with his legs wide. A silver claw pointed at the man's head, and the scorching mane atop of it. However, by some unbelievable display of airheadedness, the bystander was STILL not giving any proper reaction to his soon-to-be full on immolation.

Somewhat panicked, Keith looked around within his vicinity, for anything that could potentially placate the growing flame. His crimson pupils soon found themselves locking onto a potential solution. He would've rather gone for something less messy, but this extraordinary circumstance didn't allow such a thing.

Sharp claws suddenly reached for the man's shoulder, ferrous fingertips digging into the thick clothing, making sure to not actually hurt him. Keith pulled the man in abruptly, dragging him a few feet backwards with a skip. The rookie's free hand swiped forward, whipping unnaturally as his claws sliced at a small water pipe neatly aligned through a building's wall. The metal was sliced open, letting out a relatively generous stream of water to spray out. Keith shoved the man once more, putting the clueless bystander's face in front of the stream.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief as the flames sizzled and died out, albeit a little guilty for having completely drenched the man in the process. It was right then and there that his muscles tensed up, his instinct urging him to check on his side. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a rose glow, approaching at a terrifying speed. Letting go of the civilian's jacket, Keith hopped backwards, just barely avoiding the thin beam that pierced through the air, the pink glow reflecting on his skin as the tip of his nose remained less than an inch away from the attack for but a moment. Knowing just how painful that attack was moments ago, he would REALLY prefer to stay away from getting hit again, thank you very much.

That was it, he couldn't afford wasting his precious time defending this borderline suicidal civilian, the pink serpent was still itching for a fight, and he was still itching to paint the walls red with her splattering innards. Keith thrust his arm forward, grabbing a hold of one of the nearby firescapes, launching himself upwards. He darted across the alley by swinging through the sides of the buildings throughout the alley, he needed to close the distance between himself and the serpent, as she had the clear long range advantage.

Midway through his swinging, he slashed at a ladder, sparks flying as the steel was sliced cleanly. Just as gravity was about to let it fall, Keith grabbed onto it with one of his freakishly elongated swings, and threw it straight at the girl. He wasn't really aiming to hurt her with his makeshift projectile, but hopefully it would serve as a distraction for an unexpected attack. As the ladder approached the horned vermin, his claws followed closely behind, his own body still relatively safe a few meters away, red tissue stretching unnaturally.

simj26 simj26 thebigfella thebigfella
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Anger Management
TIME:
Daytime, Pre-Arc 1, August 1st 2019
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Daigo
Anger Management
Helplessly lying on the ground, Charlie could do naught but stare at the final blow, the ringleader becoming but a giant, human cannonball striking a nearby building. Seconds pass, and not a single sign of a comeback could be perceived from the ringleader-shaped hole. The boy let out a long sigh in relief, the air weakly escaping his lungs as his eyes drifted into the sky, before closing them momentarily.

Realizing this was NOT time for a rest, Charlie mustered his strength to get himself back on his feet once more, his entire body feeling unbelievably sore. A brief moment later, he was back on his feet, now that his blood flow was properly redistributed, he could feel a new resurgence of pain around the areas he was most bruised, he held his hands over his stomac as he bent forward, his expression clearly showing the pain he was going through. "Ugh...it hurts so much" He whimpered, his breathing agitated as he attempted to regain his composure.

Now feeling slightly better, the boy looked around, a cold sweat running down his forehead as he gazed at the collateral damage he most definitely took part in. "I-I hope this isn't that big of a deal...I-I'm sure this is all covered by insurance" He laughed awkwardly, more out of stress than anything remotely funny being said.

His attentioned steered towards a lone voice coming his way, it was the child from earlier, his current state being a complete shock to the young man. He rushed over, leaning closer towards the weakened youth and his bloody visage. "Oh my goodness...we need to get your wounds treated immedately!" It was hard to watch, from the bruises and the bloodstains, to the atrocious mangled mess that was his broken hand. "I'm not sure it'd be a great idea to call an ambulance...Do you know anywhere I could take you? You seem more familiar with this area, I'll carry you wherever" He extended his towards the young boy, gesturing to Charlie to carry him.

"I'm sorry but when I saw you with those guys... I just couldn't stand there and twiddle my thumbs, you could've gotten killed, and that didn't sit right with me"

He leaned slightly further, insisting on helping out the feisty teen. "...And well, I still want my stuff back, you know? Don't think that I forgot"


joshuadim joshuadim
 
Welsha Reaper
SCENE:
What's the Tea
LOCATION:
Moonflower Cafe, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Yona Kowloong @CasualTea , Welsha Reaper
What's the Tea

Welsha tilted her head a bit when Yona said that she would search their phone for something, she had mostly wanted to know her likes so that she would be able to identify a good place. But she supposed researching a place online was also a option that she could of chose, when Yona motioned for her to follow, Welsha didn't really hesitate, grabbing her laptop bag, and followed Yona out. Welsha didn't know what to expect when it came to Yonas vehicle but it was pretty mediocre at best, though to be fair she did say she only recently came into the city, so she supposed it was a bit fair. Regardless it did make Welsha think that she wasn't very wealthy, probably average when it came to financial wealth. Though it wasn't like she minded that too much, most of her nice things were gifted to her by her parents after all and it wasn't like everyone was gifted with such a support system. Welsha soon took the front seat figuring it would be impolite to take the back one, besides it made it easier to conversate with them anyways, well atleast she though so. Welsha began to suspect that the car was perhaps new considering it's interior it would make sense, but those thoughts were put to the side as Yona entered onto the drivers side.

Welsha listened as Yona spoke in a foreign language to their Alexa, Welsha knew her share of foreign languages, but that was not one of the ones she knew. But she atleast knew the accent, but she wasn't 100% sure about that yet, so she opted to remain silent about that for now, but she did atleast gain her suspicions about where she might come from. Before she could even question her about it Yona brought out a flower shop, Welsha may play dumb a lot but she wasn't exactly a idiot and she understood the tactic of changing the subject, her parents trained her quite a bit when it came to certain areas. But she opted to play along with Yona anyways figuring that she was being paranoid, she would probably get more intel out of her later on when she was more willing anyways. "Oh, So you have a interest in flowers?" honestly Welsha wasn't all too interested in flowers, she did know about them mostly the poisonous ones, but her interest in them wasn't all that great since their mother considered them to be overall not very useful, a sentiment that was placed onto her for the most part. Welsha started to feel a bit paranoid looking at the rear view mirror to see if anything was off or following them, there were many people from different organizations that had reason to follow her, though there was also the possibility that they were following Yona. Opting to break the silence Welsha began to ask "So any real reason you came to this city specifically? Got anyone that you know living in this city?"
 
ELEANORE
SCENE:
{=Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth=}
LOCATION:
South District, The Roost
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Helva, Pei, Red, Eleanore, Shrike
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
“Hold.”

It was a bit half hearted. It was very hard to tell if it was directed at Red or Charlie in specific. Possibly both. Hopefully both.

It had taken her out. It was silence for a moment. At least, from her. The world went on, despite for all rights deserving to stop at the comment. Her son? That was… No, dear god. She’d hope better than Pei as her son- Pei is dead, still right there on the floor. Did she not talk enough with- of course not. She didn’t talk with anyone. Except Pei. Who was still dead. On the floor. It was insulting, almost, someone thinking she possibly would’ve raised -Pei. Dead. Floor.

It should’ve been funny. In a really sick way, it was. Even now, a part of her found the humor in it. More of her found the pure shock of that, clasping onto it like a plank of wood in a whirlpool. Sure, the ship was still wrecked, she wasn’t out of danger, and she was probably going to drown anyway, but it gave her mind something to grip to enough to stop worrying about swimming. Instead, she can focus on the other passengers before they started jumping to cannibalism.

“Hold, for fuck’s sake.”

The others had faded, leaving the sole Eleanore who had loaded slugs earlier. Pei’s down, theatrics overblown in his own face, and that was because Red decided to gut him. That was because Pei decided to throw a fucking soiree about his suspicions or case instead of going through any kind of official channel. At least one Phoenix was dead because of this. If there was going to be another, it would be through the official channels, with a nice rubber stamp on the execution docket.

“We’re not doing that. We’re not… If there’s evidence for things previously, we’ll find it. We’ll deal with what just happened. If you

The barrel of the shotgun was pointed to Red. Shaking, a bit. At least she was properly practicing finger discipline.

“Kill anyone else here, I will blow your brains out right now. If you

The barrel shifted to Charlie. She was breathing heavily, slight pants breaking through her monologue. She pulled herself together, like a Phoenix ought to. Like she thought they ought to. Like she thought she should’ve from the start of this.

“kill her, and it turns out she deserved worse, or if she’s actually innocent of everything else, I will also blow your brains out.”

She should’ve just slapped Pei in the face when he dug that hole. Dead. Floor. She won’t get the chance to do that again. That’s horrible, right? Maybe that’s how everyone handles grief. Maybe she should have some time to stew on that. But no. Things keep happening. She is tired of things happening. The shotgun barrel moves again, this time to the newcomer. Aka… mozu, she thinks. Whatever. Dies all the same if a problem happens.

“And you… mother fucker, did Pei think he was going to host a party with an accusation of betrayal? Or are you with her? Is the ‘cleaning’ related to this?”

A quick flick of the barrel to the leveraged Red, or Granny, or… there we go. Grief and raw anger were managing to get flooded out by annoyance. The more things went wrong, the more there was to focus on. At least some people appeared sane enough to not worry about too much. She wasn’t completely alone. Just… mostly. Mainly. Juggle several thoughts and conversations at once. Too many questions. Too much tension.

“He’s dead. Don’t bother wasting the electricity.”

 
GIFT HIROJI
SCENE:
Write Under Their Noses
TIME:
March 17th, 2021 || Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Rothan And Rothan Pawn Shop, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Gift, Javi
WRITE UNDER THEIR NOSES
”Now?”

Clap.

”We rock. Well, we get prepared to rock. We walk over, and you tell me if anything in that bag of tricks of yours is capable of sneaking around back there without getting noticed, or if we’re doing the first round the old fashioned way.”

Gift claps again, grinning ear to ear as he steps off the sidewalk. The cars are still present, making him look like an idiot, but he seems to think he knows better than common sense. He’s still got stuff to say, after all. He turns around, delaying his approach to snap his fingers.

”With my bag of tricks.”

And then he just backs up, having successfully managed to time his approach with a change in traffic lights. A practiced skill entirely for the purpose of showing off and showcasing one’s assumption that everyone else in New Oasis around Gift will follow traffic laws and not hit him either on accident or out of spite. Well, he’s crossing the road in any case, spinning on his heel to get to the other side.

He’s not aiming directly towards the pawnshop. Of course, he knows the local area. If you take the time to know the city, it’ll reward you with good alley or hidden spot behind a dumpster to sit down and suit up. Sure, the rookie’s… bigger, and more muscular, but that’s not going to cause a problem. You’ve just got to not be noticed entering, most people have enough self preservation to not actively go out of their way to investigate once you’re hidden. Just try to not choose the same place someone else is hiding in. Could be awkward.

Gift stepped up on the sidewalk on the side of their mark, sidestepping a few feet away. Not going to stand around in the alley next to Rothan and Rothan’s, that’d be stupid. A few buildings to the side really hides one’s purpose, in his opinion. Slipping into the shadows, he finally got the chance to rush behind a bit of cover of a gutter to toss his duffel bag onto the pavement and stretch. Regardless of what Javi had said to him, he pointed at it. His bag of tricks. That’s what he was referencing. Do you get it? It’s a physical thing.
 
LENRAS MOTESFONT
SCENE:
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
LOCATION:
The Maw’s Warehouse, East District
DATE:
July 10th, 2022 [Post-Arc 3]
PARTICIPANTS:
Lenras, Passeri
WHAT’S LEFT OF LOVE WHEN IT’S DOWN TO ATOMS?
The assistant nodded. Apparently, the statement of water being the drink of choice as a general rule for the time went with a… slight approval? Merely a polite affirmation? Hm. He’s already moved on before any conclusive evidence could be found on his opinion.

”It isn’t unheard of. We keep more stored here when there are no plans of hosting, but...”

This takes a pause for a second, only interrupted by the footsteps of the two. It’s cold. Both in the literal sense, as Passeri has noticed and her guide apparently either hasn’t or doesn’t let his body complain about, and in the sense that… other than the white noise of the fans and other bits of machinery brought up into the top part of the warehouse, it’s very silent. Sterile, even. Wallet took a wide turn, leaving the path from the entrance for the straight shot towards the center, finally breaking his silence.

”When he cleans up like this, it’s often for the sake of a larger gathering. He seems to think highly to do so for a single guest.”

Does… no, of course he knows who Passeri is. Both the famed idol, and the Jack of the Tigers. It’d be insane for the Doctor’s personal assistant to not know, which leads to the idea that their guide doesn’t operate under the assumption that just rank and status alone would be worth Lenras cleaning up. It does, however, end up in getting the lightest chuckle out of him.

”Your safety and comfort are ensured here. Doctor Motesfont has to approve any crimes that occur underneath his roofs before they happen.”

The guide comes to a stop, stepping neatly to the side as he enters the man made clearing. He clicks his heels as he does so, revealing a good, thirty foot by thirty foot lot in the center.

There’s a wooden table, with a bright red tablecloth strewn diagonally over it. At least seventy years old, varnished. Slightly scratched up. Footpads have been placed to keep it from getting damaged on the cement flooring. There’s two cushioned chairs, dyed leather, black, garnished with brass nails. Much newer. They both look comfortable, although with the slight difference that the one to the right side is about three times the size as the one to the left. There’s two water glasses, and right in the middle…

That was a very nice looking cookie tray. Stacked well. There was no cheap frosting or pure sugar making up for a lack of flavor fillings, neither the overpowering presence of chocolate or fruit flavors, simply a nice selection for the refined palate. It was the ideal cookie tray. It even smelled nice from twenty feet away. Some dark magic at play, certainly. Weren’t you supposed to eat an actual meal before dessert?

”Please, make yourself comfortable. He’s coming up now.”

Wallet had just finished checking his phone for the message, pocketing it and making a polite wave towards the chair on the left.

As if there was any doubt to which chair it was expected she’d sit in.
 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
Taking a Break
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, June 28th 2022
LOCATION:
Camila's Apartment, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Hiachi
Taking a Break
To a workaholic, the confines of one's home can be similarly to a cage, be it plain or gilded, it was restrictive all the same. Camila had never been someone to stay idle at home, she belonged in the streets, or in the handy comfort of her office. It was in indeed not by choice that she hadn't walked out of it in over twenty-four hours, but rather it was the consequences of her condition; bandages covered the majority of her stomach and arms, her legs no slouches either, with their own fair deal of gauze as well, she looked like she had survived from a bear attack, and quite frankly, she wished it had been a bear instead.

To occupy her unsteady mind and body, Camila had spent the last few hours with her main hobby, and overall creative outlet: Cooking! It was something that not many people had the privilege of knowing, but the money-hungry, status-seeking veteran was an extremely passionate homecook. In fact, the majority of her meals were made by herself, always managing to fit some time into her busy schedule to get to work in the kitchen, both her apartment and officed stocked with so much Tapperware that would make a housewife blush.

Knock knock knock

Camila's head perked up, looking behind her, her eyes locked on the ebony front door...It was her, even earlier than anticipated, in fact. The girl leaned over to her oven, turning on the broiler at the lowest temperature.

Hiachi was one of Camila's recurring emloyees, one of her most recent additions, in fact. The silver haired woman could remember the day they met like it was just yesterday, it was on first sight that she knew it was the start of a wonderful professional relationship. She had tasked the rookie to get her a package, a valuable item which she planned to re-sell to the black market, around six or seven times the original prize if she was lucky. Normall, their little arrangement would've concluded with Hiachi coming to Camila's office, a quick and straight to the point meeting, but once again, the veteran wasn't exactly in condition to leave her home.

Now one might wonder, was Hiachi someone she trusted and care for enough to let her into her not-so-humble abode? The one place where she was most vulnerable? Was their friendship truly that special and deep? Okay no one is believing that, but the truth was that the sharp-eyed rookie was arguably the most harmless hen in her coop. Not only was Hiachi a smart girl who, unlike most of the brick-brained people working under Camila, actually understood well how the hierarchy between them work, but she also happened to be stuck between a rock and...more than one hard place, with Queen Ryuutaro keeping her on a relatively short leash. All in all, should Hiachi try anything funny here, it would only ruin her already troubled life further.

Camila strutted towards the entrance with confidence, her slender, silver tail skillfully getting rid of all the security before wrapping itself around the knob. The large door open with a deep creak, denoting the generable size, archetypal of a well-off residence.

"Hey, come in, sit down I'll be right with you in a minute"

The veteran barely even spared a split second of eye contact for her guest before her voice echoed through the lounge to encourage her entering, already walking back to the kitchen. Once Hiachi made her way inside, she would've been immediately hit by the powerful fragrance of freshly baked bread and slow-cooked stew.

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miki miki
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Hoodwinked
TIME:
July 15th, 2022
LOCATION:
The Suede Bee, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Rohen, Dyne
Hoodwinked
Herein, a thicket of metal stalks and whirring stripes.

The Suede Bee was one of the Albino Tigers' numberless snapping jaws. A paradise of light and sound, an Eden wherein nothing was forbidden. From the heart's deepest sin to the tongue's greatest craving, all was permitted, and indeed too present within these median reaches of the Tigers' domain. All, of course, with the exception of that most succulent fruit of all: Victory.

A halo of muddled neon silhouetted Passeri's figure. As it tended to in this part of town, a dense crowd milled about her, their chatter joined together to form a near-impenetrable wall of noise. At her rear, the Bee's great, yawning entrance blinked with all the most welcoming colors of the rainbow. As much as she played the socialite, this was not her sort of scene. The chatter was too vapid, the constant mill of feet too aimless, and the trajectory of the night much, much too tragic for her tastes. Plainly put, she'd never really been much for gambling.

The odds were simply not a thing she had much of a talent for playing, but her quarry tonight was a different story. She'd yet to gather a full picture, but what had been painted for her was already bold enough in its colors to catch her interest. A Dragon deep within Tiger territory, a smile on her face and winnings in her pocket. Night after night. A regular. Brazen enough in her wits to stick her arm into the jaws of the so-called enemy day in and day out. A problem by the measure of most, but in her experience some of the most beautiful trees were grown from troubled seeds. It was, if nothing else, something worth looking into.

But there was the problem. As far as she might've climbed up the Tigers' bamboo ladder, this was still not her world. It took one to know one, and it took one to catch one too. Her lucky stars be thanked, then, that the Tigers had gamblers to spare.

'Waiting by the entrance. Black jacket. Purple dress.'

One such she'd invited here tonight. As ever, Passeri's finger had been tightly pressed against the tender heartbeat that was the constant flow of Rookies into the Tigers' 'employ'. From amongst latest swell of riffraff, she'd found at least one name bearing promise. Ex-PMC. Veteran Gambler. Cocksure Gunslinger. Rohen 'Crow' Vista.

What it was with military types and naming themselves after animals?

She'd had the woman delivered a brief when she'd been contacted. A two-person mission. Follow, observe, and confront. Rohen would handle the money, and she the chatter. Their objective was plain. Establish contact with mystery Dragon and find out what motivated her to delve so deep into such dangerous territories. What followed that she'd yet to judge. With the manner in which the Tigers' political space currently squirmed, a branch beyond their ranks was an attractive idea. Something, anything, to give her a leg up in this ridiculous coup. But now wasn't the time to dream of what could be. She'd heard interesting things of their mark for the night, but these days there were few judgments she trusted beyond her own.

For now, she at least knew what to look out for. Confidence in her step and a smile like the devil's. Hair, ironically, black like a raven's. Definitely not the sort of easily milked sad-sap that the Tigers' casino managers were so fond of... Which was probably why she'd had them complaining in her ear about it for the past few weeks. Another 'cheater' to be disposed of, at least so long as she didn't do something about it first.

Passeri pulled her jacket further over her shoulders. She'd learned her lesson about dresses in the evening from that dinner with Motsefont, but even through the thick, black leather, she could still feel the night's approaching chill. She crossed her fingers in hope that her company for the night would be arriving soon.

 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
TIME:
July 10th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Maw’s Warehouse, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lenras, Passeri
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
A slight, strained smile. Polite was a word for it. Not that she didn't appreciate the conversation, nor was she unflattered but the supposedly exceptional treatment, but her attention was cast to other thoughts. There was this and that. Nick-knacks, baubles, and tools of every shade, and yet it all still had its place. She was back to her idle musings, searching for the impression of the man who was yet unseen. A microcosm of the artist existed in every work, and if Passeri allowed herself to be pretentious, then yes, she could consider home-decor to be a sort of artwork too.

"Quite reassuring, that..." An idle response for idle musings. An iron grip, was it? Though considering the demeanor of those present- both her guide and the poor guard outside- she supposed that it was at least gloved. A people kept in line but kept satisfied too. Regardless of how small or large that people was, Passeri regarded that as a feat nonetheless. One that Weiss could certainly take a lesson from, at the very least. That or this was just overconfidence. That wouldn't be a surprise, given just how most of the Tigers were. Especially the established ones. Why, even with however many years of Veterancy she now had under her belt, Passeri was rather sure that she could count the number of Tiger Veterans with even a shred of humility in their heart on her hands.

She supposed it just wasn't in the nature of a predator to know fear.

"Right. Thank you..." Passeri's tongue hovered in her mouth. In all of their shared musings, Passeri realized that she'd never gotten her guide's name. "...very much. I never got your name by the way. Would you mind sparing it before he joins us?"

It was a request without weight. Not from the Jack of the Albino Tigers, but rather a curious dinner guest. It was always better to know than not, after all.

"Though I guess that's a bit rude of me! Passeri Park-" She took her seat and then extended her hand. An invitation to both shake and join her at the table. "-and it's a pleasure to meet you!" Her voice turned bright. Bubbly and chirpy like it always was on the TV. All the elements were here, after all. A handshake, a table, and a good impression to be made.

Just like that day.

There was a pang in Passeri's chest, and when her hand was returned to her it went for one of the perfect-looking, surely vat-grown cookies. That much wasn't like her, though only somebody who had ever heard her prattle on about the constraints of her diet could've told. There was no obnoxious questions of calories or whatever other impossible numbers her dietician expected her to track. She took a bite without hesitation, and a fine sprinkle of crumbs fell into her lap.

"Mm... These are pretty good! I hope the rest of the meal lives up to them! That's one of the rules of showbiz, you know? Never lead with your best act."

 

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