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

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Passeri Park

SCENE:

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 | June 10th, 2022

LOCATION:

Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Bushineko

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

Passeri's hands felt cold. A painted fingertip hovered over her phone. It would've only taken a moment for her to call for help, and she'd had more than one of them. Moments, seconds, precious fragments of time that Nekomaru had bought for her. All of which she'd squandered. Time bled through Passeri's fingertips as she thumbed each number into the dialler. Moments ago, she'd had the time to make a call. One or two after that, even, she could have dispatched a hurried text, but she could not manage even that.

Before she could press call, Passeri's phone exploded into a cobweb of glass and flickering light. Shards of stony shrapnel tore into her, shredding her skin like paper. The detonation took her like a grenade, tossing her small body straight through the supermarket's aisles. A trail of crashing jars and clattering cans was left in her wake as she tumbled through the air, stopped only when she careened into the arms of some towering promotional display. A polar bear, with a fridge carved into its belly.

Cold air leaked out of the strange display, washing over Passeri as she tumbled to the ground. In the last instant she'd had to defend herself, instinct had finally taken the reigns. Bidden not by her sluggish, conscious mind, but instead the primal drive to survive, a pink glimmer had interrupted the stony explosion, though it hadn't been enough to shield her fully. Her clothes, neatly ironed and delicately folded only the night before, were in tatters, soaked with spreading splotches of her own blood, but she was alive. Even if she didn't feel that way.

She writhed to her feet, wincing in pain as she felt the shards of concrete that had lodged themselves into her flesh twist about, deep within her flesh. Her legs wobbled beneath her weight, her usually keen sense of balance addled by pain. As the dust cleared, she saw him, looming amongst the wreckage. A speck of fear grew inside of her. That primal part of her mind that had saved her, too, had fixed him as something that she hadn't encountered since she was only a girl.

A snake in the reeds. A tiger in the thicket. A hawk amongst the clouds. A predator, of whom she was the prey. Her heart started to race.

"Fuck..." She cursed under her breath. The buzz of her Potential had gone cold, now, and the supermarket was empty. What was she supposed to do here? Run? She couldn't. He spoke like a madman, but regardless, whoever this man was, he knew. Who she was. And he hated her for it. He needed to die today.

A screen of light shimmered beneath her, and then lifted her into the air. She soared up and over the aisles, leaving a veil of sparkling light in her wake. One after another, her constructs spun to life, and the store began to be soaked in a deep, pink hue. Dozens of her constructs surged towards Karne, cutting through the air and aisles alike. Bottled sauces and canned vegetables sprayed through the aisles as her Potential surged, raining neon hell down on the gas-masked man.

She glared through the haze of her Potential and condiment-based mist, searching for the man amongst the store's wreckage. Her sweater, once a soft purple, was now stained irreversibly red. If Karne didn't kill her here, then her maid was certainly going to finish the job for him.

thebigfella​

 

[gxxberkit]

Reminiscence Dedai

CS Link

SCENE:

What the Dirt Remembers

LOCATION:

East, Heiwana Sasayaki Summer Camp (Abandoned)

TIME:

May 20, 2022 | 9:57 PM

PARTICIPANTS:

Rem, Hiachi

What the Dirt Remembers

A silent yawn.

Rem sat up off the ground, shaking the leaves from her dreaded mane. Her eyes trailed up to the night sky, barely visible past the trees. How long had she been asleep there? She knew, but, ugh, who cares.

Her hand traced the dirt that had once held a familiar memory.

She didn’t remember why she came here.

That was a lie— of course she remembered.

Rem felt a distance between her current friends. A distance that seemed to have pushed her here. She had made a friend here, many years ago. But any normal person would be sure to forget that.

Here was gone, now.

Rem became familiar with the feeling of letting something go. To remember all is to be attached to everything. To be attached is to constantly be heartbroken.

Bleh.

She lifted her hand, allowing the soft dirt to fall through her fingers, and reached to grab a bottle that laid next to her. The cold glass was now rough with the grime that stuck to its surface. It was gross.

Popping the lid off, she downed what was left of the liquid. Her hand moved to toss it, but she would never forgive herself for littering.

With a groan, her feet met the ground. She stretched upwards, making eye contact with the bark of a tree. She cringed.

Rem moved off through the forest. The leaves crunched, just as they did so many years ago. It wa—

Hm?

Through the trunks of trees and low-lying foliage, she spotted a human silhouette, just sitting there at the lake. It certainly wasn’t anyone who lived nearby— the hair was too short and too straight.

Rem squinted as she came to recognize the hair.

She stepped forward and then paused when the girl froze. The girl turned around, scanning, but more importantly— giving Rem a view of her face. At only the first glance, her suspicions rang true.

Rem pushed away the flora, waving at the girl. “H”—no, she might not remember you. Don’t scare them off.—”ey! What are you doing?” She gave her a smile.

miki

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Passeri Park

SCENE:

Lady Madonna

TIME:

June 24th, 2022 | Post Arc 3, Timeskip 1

LOCATION:

Our ✰ Dream Soup Kitchen, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Eric

Lady Madonna

A cold stab of anxiety ran through Passeri's spine as she rummaged through the kitchen's dry stock. Those two words. Whether it was a joke or not, they were a little too close for comfort. Her hands, which had been occupied with rooting around the countless cans and boxes within the pantry, paused for a moment.

She hadn't done anything to tip Eric off, had she? Letting the wry officer in on her little secret had been within her card for a while now, but it was always supposed to be under her terms. His stumbling upon it all on his own would have been... awkward, to say the least.

"Capellini?" Whatever flecks of worry there were in her, none of them made themselves apparent as she called out from the pantry. "Like, the city? I went there during my last tour, you know! You can't trick me into rummaging around for some-" She carried on as she returned to her rummaging, only for her words to catch in her throat as she stumbled across a fat, plastic tub labeled with the name of what she, until about 0.72 seconds ago, was so sure was just a Fusillian cultural hub. The light cast by her eyes flickered as she blinked in surprise, and then pulled out the entire tub.

"Nevermind!" She shouted, stumbling out of the pantry with her arms just barely wrapped around the container. "Is this stuff popular? I think I would've heard of it if it was. Why do we have-" She huffed a little as she dumped the container onto the countertop. "-so much of it?"

Come to think of it, almost all of the tubs back there had been almost half her size. Was this really how much food they went through? She ought to get Carol an assistant.

"So, um... Need anything else?" Passeri backed away from Eric's cooking station and reclined into a nearby bench, just far enough way to avoid the stove's heat. She spent a moment fixing her hair, which had spilled out of its net as she'd struggled with the tub of pasta, and then folded her arms across her stomach. It wasn't often that she was left to just sit around and watch like this.

"...Actually." She felt around in the back of her head for the thread of a conversation. "Do you think the city is named after the pasta, or the pasta is named after the city? I know there's a lot of clubs that name themselves after songs, and a lot of songs that are named after something the artist has experienced... Do you think that stuff is popular enough to name a whole city after?"

As small as this talk might have been, she was a little curious. From what she remembered, Capellini had been a lovely, quaint place. The people were polite, and the waterways that ran throughout the city had been so clean that she'd thought she'd gone delusional. It was nothing like New Oasis. She wasn't sure how she'd feel about it being named after a carb, of all things.

Roda the Red​

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Passeri Park

SCENE:

Equestrian Diplomacy

TIME:

June 17th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1

LOCATION:

Vissarion's Estate, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Vissarion

Equestrian Diplomacy

"Alexander, huh?" Passeri's brow furrowed as she was led into the stables. Stray straws of hay crunched beneath her feet, and the musky smell of animal feed and manure hit her like a wall. As much time as she may have spent traveling in the last few years, she was still a city girl at heart. These sights and smells were more foreign to her than Sankai's streets, or Fusilli's glistening waterways.

"How's Alex, instead? You do nicknames in this house, right?" There was a hint of trepidation in her voice as she approached the animal. She could see herself, just barely, within his eye; a terribly out-of-place-looking woman, inspecting the living, breathing creature in front of her as if it were primed to explode.

Really, it made her feel a bit stupid.

"You say he's a fan? I hope you didn't just bring me here to do a concert for him and his friends." She joked, and extended her hand out towards the animal. Was this what she was supposed to do? Pet it? Like a cat or dog? The last cat she'd tried to pet had taken a swipe at her. "Like in that one movie, right? With the princess and the dwarves? I guess that was in the woods, though. And with birds instead of horses."

Her hand hung in front of Alexander's head, twitching whenever the horse so much as breathed. As an HP, she wasn't particularly worried for her safety, but still, the horse's teeth looked huge. Ever so slowly, she inched closer to the great and mighty beast, doing her very best to not go home to day with her hand soaked an animal drool.

"Mmm. That's the talk of the ball, isn't it?" Passeri spoke over her shoulder as she made her advance on Alexander's forehead. "Forgive me if this is putting you on the spot here, but how do you feel about our lovely King, Markus?"

It was unfortunate that she was occupied with the horse at the moment. Being able to see the other person's face made interviews like this so much easier.

"I don't know if you've heard, but he hasn't been the most popular guy, as of late." That was an understatement. Of his biggest supporters, one had turned coat on them, and many others had vanished. "Which, as you imagine, puts me in a bit of an awkward spot. Did you know that this new Queen of ours is putting together a dinner? In barely more than a week? Do you know why? It's to 'find faults with Markus's command', so that we can 'improve on them', and I've got it on good authority that it's not going to end there."

Rising tides. That was what he'd called it during their little brunch. There had been one question that'd been buzzing at the back of her mind since then. If the ocean were to rise, if the tides were to change, just how many people were going to drown in the process, swept under vicious, thrashing waves?

"Now in a perfect world, I'm just going to be proven paranoid, Mister Hashimoto is going to work with Markus on all of the qualms that the very reasonable people that he invites to his little gathering bring up, and we're all going to dance hand-in-hand and sing Christmas carols together as the Tigers enjoy a new era of unity... But somehow I doubt that's going to be the case."

She knew the look that glimmered in the Tiger Queen's eye. Ambition.

"And that's why I'm here today. As many, many problems that our King may have, I'm not much for conflict." With it came chaos. Chaos which they could not afford. "A conflict that we're not going to walk out of unscathed. And what then? Popular or not, Markus isn't a pushover. Either he'll take a licking and stay on his throne, or they'll succeed and inherit and kingdom of ashes. Ashes that any of our rivals could wander in and sweep up."

Finally, she managed to lay her hand atop the horse's snout. It blew a gusset of hot, wet air in her face in response, but otherwise held still.

"Sorry, that was a bit of a tangent." She gave Alexander a tentative stroke, and then looked back at his gold-tinted owner. "Had a bit on my mind, if you couldn't tell! Penny for your thoughts? It's been doing my head in a bit, if I'm being honest."

@Slav​

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

Drunk Walk Home

LOCATION:

Central, Alleyway

DATE:

Post Arc 3 | 1:27 AM

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Teddie

DRUNK WALK HOME

Dread settled in her nerves. Her blood was anxious, flowing across her body and reasserting that everything was wrong. Everything was going wrong.

But she, too tired to act, sank into the ground and shook. Adrenaline has its limits. If she tried to run? In a matter of seconds, her energy would be spent. And a worse fate awaited her if she chose to defy the twisted game.

It was hopeless anyway. She was waiting on death’s doorstep. The tar encased her arm and eye like a plaster cast. She was one with it, it was one with her, and she was the one done with it, and it wouldn’t leave her alone for one second. Live and let die. She would live and let die; for the seconds she had that the attention weren’t on her were precious. Another molecule of oxygen left for her. Another minute without tar flooding her organs.

These were the reasons why she let that man die.

Tar picked up the body, their gooey arm lifting him up by the neck. The burns, the blood, it had already been enough—but it was not enough for them. With a final flourish, his nerves shot and he fell limp like a rag doll. The tar sizzled over the fresh blood flowing down his body, generating the worst and most pungent smell Hiachi could have imagined.

She choked back her breath. It was so horrible; she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

The dead man fell to the floor, crumpled beneath his disconnected bones. Before the tar flowed down to melt away his face, his glassy eyes were staring right at Hiachi. Nothing but nothing behind the eyes. He was dead.

The gunshot rang in her ears. She couldn’t hear anything anymore, besides the faint screams of her tortured psyche.

Her eyes were half-opened when Tar came face-to-face with her. He wore the grin of a demon. It hadn’t been over. It wasn’t over.

It was so much. It was too much. How could she possibly go on?

So stupid. So, so, stupid...

In her moment of need, Hiachi’s subconscious instincts finally swept in to save her. To protect her from being conscious for any more of this horrible and slow death, her whole body shut down—skull falling against the asphalt that lay beneath her.

Spoiler

WhiskeyMarten AriAriAbabwa

 

[Beann]

SAMIRA CALRISSIAN

CS Link

SCENE:

I am (not) your Grandpa!

LOCATION:

Calrissian HQ, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Babarutthoth, Samira

I am (not) your Grandpa!

Leaning back in her chair, Samira outstretched her arms and let out a tired sigh. She glanced at the time at the bottom right-hand corner of her computer, making note that her work day was almost over. It had been an excruciatingly long day for her: back-to-back meetings with potential investors and several submitted reports for her to review and approve. At this point, she was counting down the minutes to go home and watch some reality shows with a glass of wine. Hopefully, Jack would pay her a visit as well so that she didn’t sound too sad about drinking alone.

She sat back upright in her seat, determined to hash out the last bit of work for the day. However, as soon as she started to type, a knock at the door interrupted her. “Come in,” she said, looking up from her computer screen. Her assistant, Danielle, poked her head out from behind the door. “Ms. Calrissian, you have a…visitor.”

Samira lifted an eyebrow in confusion as she took hold of her mouse and navigated to her calendar. She frowned slightly before looking back up, “I’m not expecting anyone at this hour. Tell them to schedule an appointment for later.”

Her assistant nodded in understanding as she slowly started to close the door before finding the courage to speak up, “It’s just that…uh…he’s quite persistent that he’s your grandfather…said to tell you ‘Baba is here’?”

“What?” Samira frowned deeply this time, wondering what kind of person had the audacity to impersonate a dead man. Part of her wanted to order security to throw out whoever he was but the other part wanted to know how he knew about her grandfather. His death was kept under wraps after all. She let out a sigh, “I guess send him up.”

With another nod, Danielle closed the door, leaving Samira to wait for her unexpected guest.

Meanwhile, the receptionist in the main lobby received a phone call a few minutes after contacting Ms. Calrissian’s personal assistant. “Hello? Is that so? …Okay…” she hung up the phone and looked over the unusual man once more. “Liam will escort you,” she said out loud for the security guard posted near the elevator to hear.

Vorifengrous

 

[thebigfella]

Karne (NPC)

CS Link

SCENE:

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

LOCATION:

Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store

TIME:

June 10th, 2022 | | Post-Arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

Bushineko (NPC), Passeri

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

A sparkle of color flickered in the reflection of the lenses of his gas mask, and his green eyes snapped in her direction. Of course, she wasn’t dead. HPs were sturdy enough, and she wasn’t an exception.

It was for the best. He wasn’t done with her yet. He hadn’t heard a single scream or beg for him to stop.

His hands rested at his side as he watched her rise up into the air, carried by her potential above, the bright lights letting him view the crimson that dripped from her wounds, the bits of stone still lodged into her flesh, the bruised skin from hits that had made their mark.

He smirked, although it wasn’t visible behind his gas mask. It was a short-lived satisfaction as his eyes narrowed, a glow of pink basking his mask in light. One by two, those flashy creations of solid light started to float around her, decorating the surroundings like a planetarium dome; the sparkles swirled above like he was watching the galaxy move around him at ten times the speed.

Now that there were no possible casualties, she decided to storm down her potential upon him. Another selfish option of selflessness, a choice she seemed to love more than anything else.

As he saw the numerous sharpened edges of surging and violent energy aimed at him, all he could feel was pity.

Pity for how incredibly dumb she was.

In a blur of flashing colors of pink and clouds of dust, the ground shook as the missiles poured down on him, obscuring the whole area in debris and sparkles of pink. Explosions sounded as the floor was continuously carved open into craters; metal aisles collapsed as openings were torn between them, contents spilling upon the floor.

The madness ended, and her arsenal was run dry, leaving the obscure carnage within the fog. Bushineko was left coughing and hacking, the smell of hot sauce stinging his nostrils as some had been caught in the crossfire. He was left stunned by the destructive power that Passeri was capable of, the smoke slowly clearing to show the ground split open from impacts, crevices caved in to allow liquids to soak into them and form rivers, the underground plumping had been busted open, pipes spraying water up into the air.

Everything sat still for a moment, a silence that brought the air of victory. There was no movement.

“Heh…hehehe…” A coarse laugh that came out through filtered canisters came through the smog. Bushineko’s eyes widened as his paws reflexively clutched around the grip of his blade.

The vapors blew off his body, clinging to his legs and arms as the wind picked up, revealing him back to the world. Trails of red stained his bright white clothing, open wounds and tattered cloth showed his pale flesh underneath his gear, a crack in the lenses of his gas mask. He had sustained damage, his posture slouched, his hand holding his wounded arm in place as he looked down to the ground.

“Hehehahaha…HAHAHAHA!”

His laughing grew louder and louder, finding humor in the situation. Despite his wounds and pain, he only seemed all the more enamored in what was going on, his head raising to look up towards Passeri up in the air, a sober look in his eyes as if he had realized something.

He stood among her destruction after taking the full brunt of her attack, yet he stood there still. This was the Jack? This was the power of one of the highest positions in the opposing gangs? How could he not laugh?

She was nothing but a talking head. A starving dog who hungered for her own satisfaction but acted as if she was above the taste of blood and raw meat upon her palate.

His hand reached forward, and like his mind was linked to the ground itself, a twisting spiral of cement rose from the ground, whipping wildly as it flew through the air before abruptly steeling itself as finger-like appendages sprouted around its end. It gripped Passeri by her midsection, crushing her underneath its tight grip as it quickly brought her back down the dirt where she rightfully belonged, slamming her into the ground with enough force to cause the surroundings to vibrate,

“Let her go! You fiend!” The Playmate shouted, dashing toward Karne with its fangs bared. Karne didn’t even look at the tiny plush, raising a hand in his direction. On command, the two surviving Con Men descend on him from above, slamming their knees onto his back and gripping its tiny paws, its blade clattering against the ground as it slid across the floor.

“What the hell was that?! Is this supposed to be a playground?” Karne questioned Passeri, gazing at her through cracked plastic as he raised her in the air, “Thinking you're showing off with flashy moves!? Fuckin’ idiot!”

He shouted in elation as he swung Passeri around like a ragdoll, thrashing her into a nearby table advertising local honey, the jars shattering from the force of her body and the table snapping in half, the poor cut-out mascot of a bee with overalls and a bright smile falling to the ground.


“If you wanted to kill me, you should have hit me with everything! Not just spray around like you’re blind! DUMBASS!” Karne continued to belittle her, his concrete hand tossing her to the side like a piece of trash into the nearby seafood section. With a blur of color, Passeri’’s body was flung and shattered through the glass case of lobsters, the shattered glass spilling out with water as the lobsters spilled across the ground, disorientated as they flopped and flipped on the floor.

Karne knew she wasn’t dead yet, so he began to walk, stepping over the carnage and weaving through collapsed aisles to approach where he had disposed of her, his fingers twitching readily.

“C’mon, surely that’s not all you have, right? You have a plan, don’t you? You still think you can win, right!?” He shouted in her direction, his body weaving back and forth as he walked, almost as if intoxicated, feeling the rush from the pain he was causing, a glint of red in his green eyes.

“Go ahead! Let’s see it! I’ll crush anything you try to do! I’ll fuck up your body til all you can do is sit there and scream and cry! So go ahead!"

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[Vorifengrous]

Babarutthoth

CS Link

SCENE:

I am (not) your Grandpa!

LOCATION:

Calrissian HQ, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Babarutthoth, Samira

I am (not) your Grandpa!

“Sir if you would join me on the elevator.” The security guard beckoned to Babar. A devilish grin gripped Babarutthoth’s mouth. He had a plan. A devious plan with many moving parts. One of those devious moving parts entailed not going up the elevator.

“I’d prefer the stairs. I presume that’d be alright?” Ha! This part of his master plan was to go up the stairs, doing jumps occasionally so that when he’d make it to Ms. Calrissian’s office he’d be out of breath. He’d just turned to head to where he assumed the stairwell might be located when the security guard’s voice firmly stated “The floors upstairs are private and for employees only. You are not permitted to view unauthorized areas of this building and if you wish to see Ms. Calrissian you will follow me.”

Babar grimaced. His plan was not going to...plan. But then he hatched another idea! Yes! Another way he could get what he wanted! “Oh alright then, give me just a sec.”

To the astonishment of both the receptionist and the security guard Babar began doing rapid jumping jacks in front of the elevator. “One! Two! Three! Fou-” The security guard interjected readily. “Sir please!” Babarutthoth barked back. “No! Just give me a second, what's the rush!? Seven! Eight! Nine!” The security guard frowned in disbelief and shared an extremely concerned look with the receptionist before Babar had finished. “Nineteen! Twenty! WOOH!” Babar had barely broken a sweat, but it was decent. It was certainly decent. “Alright, let’s go.”

Speechlessly the guard operated the elevator control panel and stepped back inside of it to allow Babar to step in. The guard was quite irritated by this point and it was a tense and silent ride up to Samira’s floor- save for when Babar attempted to begin to do jumping jacks again while the elevator was running to which the guard angrily snapped “Knock it off!” and Babar got scared. “Sorry.” It was all he could croak out before the elevator door opened. “Follow me.” The guard took the lead and Babar obeyed instructions until they came to the door of what was presumably Samira’s office. The guard paused, gave Babarutthoth a particularly venomous glance which was met by Babar extending his arm and gesturing to the door with a coy smile. With a sigh the guard rapped his knuckles against it.

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

ALICIA MOREL

CS Link

SCENE:

Backroom Dealings

LOCATION:

West District, Sarizara Restaurant

PARTICIPANTS:

Ryutaro, Samira, Jack, Passeri, Camila, Elias, Welsha, Dagger, Alice

Backroom Dealings

Alice promptly sat herself back down at Ryutaro's request. She didn't say anymore, letting him continue his spiel. He meant well, and he made it clear that he sided with her... but...

When her mind eased and her tears dried, Alice felt something unexpected: shame. Because now she was a victim. One of those people you see on TV asking for donations because of how much they suffered. She wanted something for all she went through, yes... but haven't people looked down on her enough? She had let her anger talk, but a fat lot of good that did her.

Thoughts clashed with one another. The Queen is obviously sympathetic... He's using you as a mockingjay—a pedestal—isn't he...? He wants to remove Markus; that's a good thing, right? 'Money is power.' So what would change under his reign if they obeyed the same rule? Alice shook her head. She shouldn't be having these thoughts. Markus was ultimately responsible for her position. She shouldn't...

Passeri spoke next, and she was very open with her concerns. Those further embellished her thoughts. Where was Alice's place in this? Her contacts were in party planners and dress-makers. Most of these words and discussions about gang politics and whatnot didn't even make sense to her. She had nothing but a life full of lies to show for it. She thought of the mockingjay.

She wanted to admire Ryutaro; believe that hope for her life was in his hands. But her body physically disagreed, twisting her stomach and juicing a dizzying nausea into her eyes. "Conviction," he said. Conviction in doing what is necessary, no matter the odds. She liked that quote.

Jack and Samira spoke next. Then Camila. Alice didn't know what the "Board" even was. And, though Camila didn't say much, Alice felt the strange need to avoid her gaze.

And out of all the people whose voice put her at ease, it was Elias. How could the man who actively contributed to her golden cage make her more comfortable than the Queen lending her a hand? It was a question not even Alice could answer, but it was the truth.

She locked eyes with him, silent as he went on. Absorbing every word from the biggest enigma in her life. Players and cards. While she didn't want to agree with his sentiment of loss being everyone's fate, he was right on nearly every aspect. Alice was only thinking about the fake friends and false lies that made up her life. Now that they were gone... was she really left with nothing?

Dante came to mind.

Charlie.

What did she really want? In hindsight, it looked like she had everything already. She enjoyed her life before the truth reared its head. People did listen to her, just not when it mattered most. And now that her limiters—the guards and watchmen—were gone... Alice let her head sink. She needed more time than a fanciful dinner to know what this meant. The Tigers are just cards and players. The better hand wins... Maybe it was as simple as that.

Alice focused on their conversation—and her food.

@joshuadim Beann @Chaos Gallant The One Eyed Bandit Roda the Red @QuirkyAngel simj26 @Peckinou

 

[BluEndings]

"HANUEL" BAE (HIFUMI)

CS Link

SCENE:

[Clouds at the Summit]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, March 21st, 2017

LOCATION:

Millennium Hall, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Shen

CLOUDS AT THE SUMMIT

A leaf drifted down upon the still pond and, like it, Hifumi’s head bobbed.

‘Fate’ may as well have been an ill-conceived excuse for those unwilling or unable to take control of their own lives. There would always be rules to follow, walls to box you in, or attachments that bind you. Each of these were natural components to any individual's life acting as a labyrinth of choices and consequences—in that sense was the labyrinth itself fate or was it just life?

It certainly made him wonder whether the person just beside was someone who would escape a labyrinth or destroy it altogether.

“I had a feeling you might say that.” He huffed amiably. “You are strong. I am not sure if your answer is due to that, or if you are strong because of your answer. It is a hopeful view, but it makes me uneasy.”

“If one has to be strong to make fate, then is it not the fate of all weak to become strong?”

Hifumi waved off his own query with a chuckle.

“Best to leave these riddles to our seniors. It is much too early for us to be talking like grandpas. I would much rather hear about your dreams—how might they differ from someone like me, I wonder?”

Spoiler: Mentions

Elenion Aura

NAVIGATE

 

[BluEndings]

ZANE RIDDLE

CS Link

SCENE:

[DOUBLE TAKE]

TIME:

Post-Arc 3

LOCATION:

Shady's Motel | Phoenix HQ, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hector, Zane

DOUBLE TAKE

A smile slithered across Zane’s face like sunlight across a window.

“Victory.”

“See”—he flicked the lapels of his suit outward—”y’know what peeves me more than learning, that a few years back, you fowl got a taste of central and let it slip away?”

He dropped his shades down by a finger’s width.

“The fact I wasn’t there.”

“To fail so miserably is embarrassing, but to not be there at all? That’s downright pathetic.” Air hissed between his teeth. “Doesn’t matter if you punks woulda tried to punch my skull in. I’m a phoenix. I bleed red, and I will always bleed red, but there’s not a single drop of mine on that battlefield.”

“I don’t even have the slightest scar to show for it.”

He slammed his fist against the wall.

“Aren’t you sick of losing?!”

NAVIGATE

 

[BluEndings]

CHARMY DEVLIN

CS Link

SCENE:

[Thawtless Dial]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 3, December 24th, 2021

LOCATION:

Devlin Residence, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charmy Devlin, Kazue Kaneko

THAWTLESS DIAL

“Oh.” Her voice hung dry for one, then two, then three whole minutes. “Of course. Of course, of course. Hours away! H-Hours ahead! ‘All, all very confused…ing.”

She laughed, and then hacked, and then emptied her stomach all quite audibly.

“Busy. Buzzy. Busy Buzzy. Busy buzzy bee! Busy buddy bee.” She turned and groaned. “I knowww—that sweet little, little, little, little, little, little, tiny, little head of yours is full of… like a piñata. You’re, you, you’re like those singers. …Singing. Always singing, and dressed in dreams.”

“Kazue.” She chuckled. “Kazue. Kazue. Kazue.”

“I was worried for a second. That you are—your name had left me too.”

“Howzwork?” She slurred together. “Fighting crime ~ Crime fighting ~”

She abruptly shot up.

“Oh my gods. Do those lizards pay you?! Do you get paid?” She scrambled. “I can send over… I can-I…”

“You don’t want money do you; not... me—m-mine.”

She sneezed.

“H-Have you been eating well?”

Spoiler: Mentions

@azenmannumber2

NAVIGATE

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

ALICIA MOREL

CS Link

SCENE:

She Has Funny Cars

LOCATION:

Cafe De Lune, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Alice

She Has Funny Cars

Just about a year ago, the Tigers threw their forces into a mall in Central, going through hell just to get Alice back home. Her lifelong caretaker was taken away, never to be seen again. She lost her eye and gained a scar running down her face.

Now one of Tigers was inviting her beyond Central and into the East. And they had a driver to escort her. Alice had no reason to refuse—if there was danger to be had, at least the West wouldn't have her.

Alice pressed her face against the window as they entered the East. This was her home. Her mother lived and raised her here for the first four years of her life. Alice barely remembered anything from that time, yet she felt connected to the District. If only New Oasis wasn't divided by tribalistic gangs. Or if she had been free for any of the past 14 years. Or kept her memory intact.

The invite being from Passeri Park was out of left field. Alice barely spoke to her, even when they last saw each other at Ryutaro's dinner. She knew her idol persona from the TV more than Passeri herself; but she felt she could trust her.

After a relaxing ride (and a confusing path up the cafe), she meekly peeked her head through the door when Passeri's lively voice came out. Alice could breathe easy—and she realized how less suffocating the air was compared to the West. "Hello!" she greeted. "I had no trouble at all!"

Alice took her seat. "Thank you for the invitation! Did you happen to know I was born here?" Her gaze went out the balcony, reminiscing for a time she barely knew. It didn't last long; the inviter was sitting across from her. "I'm also curious how you know about this place—it's so much more... different from what I'm used to." Upon opening the menu, Alice was already beaming. Unlike every cafe in the West, this was quaint. Nothing was over-commercialized or over the top. There wasn't just one item made to ride the trendy wave for profits. It was simple. And it was lovely.

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[simj26]

Jessamine Darkness

CS Link

SCENE:

THE LONGEST DAYS OF OUR LIVES

LOCATION:

Heiwana Sasayaki, East District | Theater

LOCATION:

Post-Arc 3 | June 21st, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Ottilie, Jessamine, Dyne, Yushui

THE LONGEST DAYS OF OUR LIVES

"I have not," she replied quietly.

She was never really one for plays, unless it had at least two people during it out on stage. False as their blades were, the clash of steel stirred her heart more than the needless chatter of soliloquy after soliloquy. Words meant little to her. Only through action, or inaction, did the curtain raise over a person's heart. The only reason she was here, in this theatre, was because he was.

"An absolutely asinine query," she scoffed at his question. "Of course there is merit to the struggle." She drew a hand across a lock of hair. "What manner of fool would sit idly by as their days count towards the end? I'd fight. I'd rage against the turning of time itself if need be. From a purely skin deep point of view, there is no intrinsic value to letting death come to me. If I were the girl, I would, too, choose to dictate my own fate, and the circumstances of my own death." She pursed her lips, and paused. She opened her mouth to say something else, but quickly shut it. There was no point in saying it.

"And what of you? Are you satisfied with simply letting the waves wash over you? Or are you willing to go against the tide?"

BluEndings

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

TATSUO IORI

CS Link

SCENE:

Drunk Walk Home

LOCATION:

Central, Alleyway

TIME:

Post Arc 3 | 1:27 AM

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Teddie, Tatsuo

Drunk Walk Home

1:27 A.M.

Tatsuo Iori had just finished consoling a grieving widow at the station. Her mouth cramped from smiling so much, but it was worth it to see her drive away with some semblence of peace. Her work done, the activity of the day finally caught up to her. It was time to go home.

She was driving when the radio came alive. A gunshot was reported in an alleyway, plus initial reports of a dead body. Her gaze flicked to the call location, then to the built-in map.

Police were already on their way, but she was closest.

Tatsuo spun the wheel. The day was not over, yet.

She wasn't driving the standard police vehicle, so no sirens sounded when she neared. Tatsuo stopped a fair distance away, hoping to catch the perpetrator by surprise. From her trunk, she took her yumi bow and the quiver of arrows. Tatsuo had an aversion to firearms; it wasn't like they were effective against HPs.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. An awful, pungeant stink that she was all too familiar with. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness when she spotted something reflecting the moonlight. She grimaced, knowing well what it was. Someone had carelessly thrown a dead body onto the pavement. Nearing it, she fought the urge to vomit when she realized the extent of it. What was once a life like anyone else's, treated so... horribly. New Oasis never ceased to dishearten Tatsuo.

There was an alleyway. Preparing herself for the worst, she rounded into it to see another victim. The difference here was that she was breathing. Tatsuo slid across the ground, not caring how dirty her gown got. She checked Hiachi's pulse, biting her lip. To her radio, she said, "I'm on scene; the perp is gone, but we need an ambulance!"

The operator answered, but Tatsuo already put her radio away. She grasped Hiachi's hand gently.

Tatsuo took a breath, shutting her eyes. When they opened, they were a glowing white. A silvery aura rose around the Miko, akin to a smoke, although moving in a serpentine-like manner. She called for the kami, and they heeded. They flew into Hiachi's body, giving their warmth. Their strength. Their vitality. It was no miracle healer, but it should have been enough to sustain the girl and ease the pain until help arrived.

With a look stuffed with concern, Tatsuo asked in as delicate of a voice she could muster, "Can you hear me? If you can, I want you to breathe. Inhale. Count to four. Exhale. I'm here for you..."

WhiskeyMarten miki

 

[BluEndings]

HIFUMI BAE

CS Link

SCENE:

[A Buzzing Reprise]

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 | June 5th, 2022

LOCATION:

Zhànzhēng, East District | Fish Market

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Xuexei

A BUZZING REPRISE

I hope you’ll be able to forgive them.

They were hollow words, but continued to ring in the dragon’s mind nonetheless. Five days were not nearly enough to allow him to come to peace with failures just before. Had the veterans not been present Hifumi and his peers would have been met with consequences far more grievous than just shame. Yet, for once in his life, it was not loss of face that eagerly gnawed at his peace.

He had desired days of repose, but an itch called ‘responsibility’ had torn him away.

“Azure Dragon business” or “family business.” He wasn’t sure which this was, but the two were so intertwined at this point that it hardly mattered. Where he sat, and why he waited was a combination of both. The insistence of one he would rather not mention may as well have been shackles along his wrists. To defy his father’s will was one thing, but to test the benevolence of his mother-in-law-to-be was a different beast altogether.

It was all highly irregular.

His inexperience couldn’t be overstated. There was no disputing his freshness within the organization, and with a request from this particular meddler on top there was no amount of tea that could calm his nerves.

Two specifically requested Azure Dragons, and a task that seemed all too mundane.

Just who was he meeting up with?

Spoiler: Mentions

@ATurei

NAVIGATE

 

[BluEndings]

HIFUMI BAE

CS Link

SCENE:

[Legacy Lost]

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 | June 13th, 2022

LOCATION:

Zhànzhēng, East District | Silverlit Grounds

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Deirest

LEGACY LOST

There were no grand walls, fantastical fountains, nor statues. The path Hifumi tread was a humble one whose rocks had been pulled true from the earth. The neighboring soil had long lost its rich hue, now failing to reflect the moon’s silver light. Where flowers had once bloom brilliant greens and hues aplenty were instead speckled weeds and withered remnants. It was a still premise without candle nor bulb with only the solemn tunes of insects in the air.

The dragon’s pale hair trailed behind him carried by the gentle breeze, and lingering regrets.

At the front of the house he paid his respects, and removed his footwear. The small silver animal at his feet entered first with a light scampering, followed by his own, which triggered a choir of creaking. In no time at all, the sound had reverberated throughout the building. Unlike its more lively, though worn exterior, the inside was lacking much of what one might usually find.

Paintings had been stripped off the walls leaving but marks, and furniture freed space for new dust to settle. If it weren’t for the sliding doors displacing grime, and the freshly done dishes in the corridor over, the place might have seemed empty. It was something that had always baffled the young Bae, but he was finally beginning to understand.

His entry into one of the rooms was nothing short of sacred. His head was lowered, and the animal taken into his arms. The movement of the sliding door was careful and terribly hushed. Even the slightest bit of noise would have been an offense to whatever invisible force compelled him so. Only there was no such force within, just an elevated mat on the floor and an inert woman atop it.

Though she had not been able to hear him for some time, he spoke.

“Hello mother.” He murmured. “The two of us are here to pay you a visit.”

NAVIGATE

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Passeri Park

SCENE:

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 | June 10th, 2022

LOCATION:

Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Bushineko

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

There was a moment during which Passeri could only hear her own, labored breathing. The cascade of light and noise that had flooded the grocery store had settled, and as the glow of her Potential faded away, an ocean of twisted metal and crumbling concrete emerged from behind the veil. She felt no sense of triumph. Atop her barrier, up above the rows of now-shredded metal shelves, she realized that she was now level with the corpses of the people who that gas-masked freak had slaughtered. Her eyes locked with theirs. There was no peace in them. They had died screaming.

And then there was the laughing.

Shrill and manic, invisible within the plumes of concrete dust. Passeri felt her stomach sink, and panic took the reigns. She willed her barrier to retreat, to take her up and away from her assailant, but it was in vain. A wall of great, unflinching grey tore through her barrier like tissue paper, and before even gravity could take her, ensnared her within a tangle of fat, concrete fingertips.

The world rushed past her faster than she could register. Suddenly, her body was screaming. Her surroundings rushed around her in a blur, stopping only in brief interstices, when she would smash into one surface, and then the next. Her vision flashed white with each impact, and her Potential desperately sparked behind her, trying, failing, and failing again to liberate her from the concrete claw's grip.

Through it all, she could still hear him wailing. Howling at her with that ugly, muffled voice. Barking out the nonsense, vain ramblings of a madman. Her world was one of bludgeoning and belittlement. At some point, her voice started to mingle with his, the cries of pain that she'd been suppressing finally starting to leak out. The disembodied hand whipped her around again, except this time, it released. She flew wide, and fast, careering across the grocery store and directly into the artificial brine of the seafood section.

If not for the salt, it might have been soothing to feel water rush across her battered body, but instead, she only felt a sharp sting as the imitation seawater poured across her wounds. Befuddled, sluggish crustaceans lay scattered about her, blindly crawling off into some safer part of the store.

Her first instinct was to follow them. That was all that was driving her now. Instinct. But even that betrayed her. Before her senses could return to her, Passeri's body had already started to move unbidden. Wet and bloody, in that moment that lay between consciousness and clarity, all she wanted to do was escape. She moved to scramble away from the shattered display, only for her arm, as she attempted to push herself from the floor, to crumble. It fell out from beneath her, twisted at an impossible, gory angle, and as Passeri lay there in a puddle of her own blood and crayfish piss-water, she considered for the first time that this might be where she was going to die.

"Fuck..." A slurred, frustrated curse was all that she could manage. She heard him again. Approaching. Gloating. Goading her on like she was some kind of animal that only existed for his amusement. She bet he was the sort of fucker that pulled the wings off of flies. Looking back on this, she would be grateful. If he hadn't been like this- if he'd been the grim-faced dealer of death that he'd dressed himself as-, then all she would've had in this moment was fear.

But with every word that dripped out of his mouth, he'd gifted her with something stronger.

Anger.

Another barrage erupted from where she lay, a shotgun spray of small, vicious constructs, that bit into Karne's flesh like locusts. It wasn't much. Nothing that would do any worse than inconvenience the man, but that was all she needed. Behind the obscuring glow of the swarm's advance, a thick, opaque bubble enveloped Passeri hiding her away, and then shooting off into the store. A moment later, a spread of three more weaved through the aisles, each twisting off into a different section of the store. Sporting Goods, Fresh Produce and Cleaning Supplies.

It was a distraction within a distraction. Nothing more. No amount of anger could convince Passeri to stand her ground her, where she was so clearly outmatched. The bubble within which she'd hidden herself evaporated away as she came to her destination: The morbid tangle of corpses that Karne had made when he'd arrived. Her phone might've been shattered, but that said nothing of theirs. There was still a chance that she could call for help. Pressing down the pain, she started to rummage through the corpses, her mangled arm dangling uselessly at her side as she did.

She just hoped that at least one of them was too lazy to set a passcode. She doubted that her little distraction was going to last long enough for her to figure one out.

thebigfella​

 

[gxxberkit]

Nona-me Gregor

CS Link

SCENE:

Spotting The Wingless

LOCATION:

East District

TIME:

Night

PARTICIPANTS:

Jozef, Celestine, Keith, Nona-me, Serp + Dragon NPCs

Spotting the Wingless

Almost immediately, the waspish Keith had jumped into action. That was okay; it was just cutting to the chase, and Nona-me was not against that. It seemed, however, that the serpents were— namely, the tall white-to-black-haired one, that Nona could almost recognize.

Hm.. did she need something from her?

She pulled out the bottle she was holding, rubbing her thumb gently against the glass.

Soft steps pushed her forward. Nona-me lunged, though brushing past the Serpent. The bottle rolled out of her hands and smashed; the liquid inside splashed upward, falling down and staining the Serpent’s legs.

Fly!

That was thirty seconds of allotted time.

Nona’s now-free hand moved forward and clutched the wooden axe. The tapping of her flats on the concrete warned of her bee-line towards Flea. She swatted the weapon at her, barely missing and getting the blade stuck in the wall.

Her foot went up against the brick as leverage to pull out the axe. The momentum of the pull spun her, pushing her to swing at the bug again. A grin came across her face, but she had missed again.

“Jumpy, aren’t you!”

Unfortunately, she intended to get a hit in before the thirty seconds were up and the other Serpent came down. Also unfortunately, she had the most experience hitting stationary things— not moving people.

Another swing and a miss. Nona just kept following Flea. “I love your potential. Is it just wall jumping? That’s so interesting!”

She swung again, this time pinning the Serpent’s jacket to the wall. “Whoops! Got your shirt!” A punch directly towards the gut followed.

“So sorry, by the way. But really, you probably should’ve been doing these trades on your own turf.”

She pulled the axe out of the wall with a shrug. “Oh, well. Hindsight is 20/20!”

Another swing.


Time was up.

WhiskeyMarten Roda the Red angel doe

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

Drunk Walk Home

LOCATION:

Central, Alleyway

DATE:

Post Arc 3 | 1:28 AM

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Tatsuo

DRUNK WALK HOME

She was dead.

That was the only explanation. She blacked out, and now two hands were grasping her own with such tenderness and grace that the only way it could be happening was she was dead. And this was some spirit of some kind.

She didn’t put much thought into it, other than the notion that death wasn’t so horrific. She was free from the pain. The weight.

In her stasis, she followed the whispers of instructions best she could. She breathed in threes and fives, not quite four. But it was close enough; she was trying her best.

As she breathed, the numbness faded. The oxygen returned to her blood. She could feel everything again. By everything, she meant the acrid smell, the jagged pavement, and the pain.

The pain crept slowly. She had barely noticed it. But then it started stinging. Even as she tried to shudder it away, it only resonated stronger and stronger. The burn beneath the tar was deep.

Tears pricked at her eyes as her breath turned into weak gasps. It didn’t hurt that bad. The warmth, the soothing of her pain, for some reason both had not been imaginary. She wasn’t sad, either. In her heart there was nothing. A chilling lack of anything seized her chest. But that wasn’t quite it.

There was an anchor that weighed down her heart and forced quiet tears out of her eyes. The chains tightened around her neck. It was over in reality. But not in Hiachi’s head. The events kept replaying. Rinse. Repeat. She cried not of relief, but in the harrowing realization that she was forcing herself to go through it again. Again. Again. And she was powerless to stop herself.

She was alive. What a cruel fate.

Spoiler

AriAriAbabwa

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Everyone's A Critic

LOCATION:

Feralia Art Gallery, Central District

DATE:

June 30th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

Camila ( Roda the Red ), Takakazu

Everyone's A Critic

“Onto something?” Camila’s words only earned a raised brow from the brute as he tilted his head. “Onto what? That the old guy likes playing with buttons like they’re nipples?” He said with a scratch of his scalp, utterly oblivious of what was going on as he stared at Camila as she walked ahead.

With no other ideas, he was back to following her whims, forgetting that he was supposed to be putting on the act of a high-end critic almost immediately, his posture slouching as he shoved his hands into his suit pockets, following behind the veteran with his natural glower.

As they made their way up the grand staircase, red velvet carpet underneath their feet, Tak could feel the looks he was getting. The appearance of an esteemed art critic was starting to spread like wildfire, but just as people began to approach or raise a hand in an attempt to stop and talk to him, a quick shift of the man’s head caused them to freeze in their tracks, stunned by the harshness of his glare.

On the bright side, it let them reach the elevator undisturbed; a prod of the button made it glow a dull orange behind its white casing, telltale dings as the number above counted down, number by number until it finally reached their floor.

With a ding, the doors slid open. The mahogany wood within intricate carvings was banded with gold, and a clean green carpet draped out in front of them. The relaxing music greeted them, along with the soft lighting.

Tak leaned his head in, peering to the left, right, up and down, ogling at the inside so long that the door tried to close on him repeatedly before he finally stepped inside, a depressed look on his face as he stood there, head creaking as he turned back to look at Camila.

“...Do you think I can live here?”

His question hung in the air for a bit before he abruptly gripped the nearby polished brass bar and tried to pull it off the wall in a fit of rage, his teeth gritting as veins bulged out of his neck.

“WHAT THE HELL!? THIS FUCKIN’ ELEVATOR LOOKS BETTER THAN MY APARTMENT! WHAT’S UP WITH ALL THIS EXTRA SPACE!” He shouted, his voice echoing through the art gallery, gaining a bunch of looks from the nearby witnesses as the doors slowly slid closed.

“I’ll go ahead and move in, damnit! I’ll put a T.V. right here!” Tak raved, pointing to a corner where he imagined his entertainment going, before quickly swapping positions in a single frame to kneel down on the opposite side of the elevator, rubbing his hands over an imaginary piece of furniture. “I’ll just put my sofa right here! The whole thing won’t fit, so I’ll just snap it in half or something!”

Not finished with his tirade, he was already back to his feet and placing his hands against the wall, massaging his hands across the smooth wood, “And I can put up some pin-up posters right here of some babes! That’s basically all I need, then I’ll be living the life! Rent can’t be much more than what I’m paying now, right!?”

He breathed a sigh, his posture abruptly slouching, as if the reality of the situation caught up to him, the ridiculousness of it all bringing him into reality as he visibly flattened.

“Damn…this won’t work…” He said, straightening back up and shoving his hands back into his pockets, returning to the uninterested neutrality he saw so well known for displaying.

“I doubt this place can get delivery.”

With that, he turned back to the elevator control panel like nothing had happened, leaning towards it slightly to examine the rows of buttons.

“What was it again? The basement button three times?” He reiterated to himself, surprisingly remembering what the old man said as he reached a finger forward, pressing the button once, twice, and then finally a third time.





…Then, nothing.




“Eh?” Tak questioned, pressing the button again, “The hell?” He complained, pushing the button more and more, waiting for something to happen.

Until an audible crack came.

Tak blinked with a dumb expression, eyes wide as he slowly retracted his finger, revealing the broken plastic that encased the basement button, a piece chipping off and falling to the ground.

“Crap,” he uttered, but it was clear he wasn’t too bothered by it as he leaned back to stand up, glancing over to Camila.

“That won’t be a problem, right?”

His question was answered shortly after, the slight jittering of the elevator indicating it was in motion, and so it started to drop, downward and downward.

“Oh hey, it worked,” Tak said, somewhat surprised as he turned to look at the numbers on the interior display, watching them quickly count down until it ultimately reached the basement level. Naturally, this is where the elevator should have stopped.

But instead, it kept going, moving further down into an unknown that even the interior display knew about.

“What the hell? It’s still going!?” Tak blurted out, surprised by this revelation, as he clearly hadn't any idea what would happen by them pressing the button three times, “Oi, oi! Is this thing busted or something!? We aren’t getting splattered at the bottom of the shaft, right!?” Tak loudly fretted, hands reflexively reaching up to grip his head, but before he could get any crazy ideas, the doors dinged open, his fear disappearing instantly.

The relaxing music of the elevator blended into a live band, the smooth tunes of jazz flooding into the confined space of the elevator. Just from peering outside, they could see what made up part of the room: linen-covered tables, glasses of champagne and expensive wine, suits who mingled together with flute glasses in their hands. Some wore masks to hide their identity, while others had nothing to hide.

Tak strolled into the room, blinking as he took in the scenery, his eyes scanning through the numerous rich types around, an all too common sight at this point that he didn’t even acknowledge them.

Instead, he noticed something more intriguing, his gaze narrowing as he looked off to another side of the room.

“Wouldja look at that…” He whispered, the perspective shifting to show what he was looking at.

Only a few steps away, the room curved downward into numerous rows of padded seats, circling around a large stage, spotlights basking upon it, curtains hiding the backstage area. Each seat had a small box next to it signboards with flippable numbers prepared inside.

There was no second-guessing; this was a room for bidding, and everyone here was a bidder.

“What the fuck…” Tak marveled, amazed at what they discovered, how deep the corruption went, and how a simple mix-up of identity had gotten them so far into--






“There’s no food here!?”

Tak abruptly shouted, dropping to his knees in defeat as his head lowered in despair; any belief that he was focused on the mission had fallen out the window as the rookie shook his head incredulously.


At least Camila could say this: This idiot had gotten him closer to finding the dirt on Hillclad.

 

[Beann]

RURIKO IKEDA

CS Link

SCENE:

If It Means A Lot To You

LOCATION:

East District

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 (31st MAY 2022 @0200)

PARTICIPANTS:

Isaiah, Ruriko

IF IT MEANS A LOT TO YOU

Feeling the warmth of his hand on top of hers brought a sheepish smile to the injured Dragon’s face. Her fist slowly relaxed, her fingers unfurling until her palm lay flat on the bed. As much as she wanted to beat herself up for the events that had occurred in the Serpent lab, it was hard to fight against Isaiah’s words of reasoning. Things could definitely have gone worse and even if she was in a lot of pain, she wasn’t suffering any critical injuries — as far as she could tell. Ruriko offered a small nod in acknowledgment of his reassurance, her battered spirit being lifted slightly.

However, his next words about the result of the negotiations between the Dragons and the Phoenixes brought her spirit back down again. Her eyes followed his hand for a brief moment as it retreated from her own, a tinge of sadness washing over her at the lack of touch. That wasn’t important though. Her tired eyes traveled back up to look at Isaiah as he explained the aftermath of the earthquake.

While raiding the Serpent lab, she thought she had felt slight tremors but with all the explosions and other commotion that was happening, it was too difficult to pick out the actual source. Isaiah’s words only confirmed that she wasn’t the only one that was caught in a catastrophe. The talk of Shen and the Phoenix King fighting caused her to frown slightly in concern, and it only deepened with the mentioning of the other two Kings. She missed out on directly supporting Shen for a raid that was questionably successful. Her frustrations began to bubble once more but after hearing Shen was able to evacuate, her emotions subsided.

Once Isaiah was finished explaining his side of chaotic events, Ruriko glanced over at Misty, who had decided to knead the blanket beside her feet. Oh, to be a cat without a care about Central or Serpent Labs. “You must be tired,” she looked back over at Isaiah. There wasn’t a hint of exhaustion from him but she knew how much energy was exerted in those types of situations. She recalled passing out on her bed after dealing with the destruction of the bridge and evacuating the civilians who were caught in the chaos. This was on a bigger magnitude though. “I should have been there — and … and don’t say I couldn’t have known things would turn out this way.” She sighed, “Shen is my family…I should have been there to support him.”

“...Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped,” assuming his timing was impeccable and she wasn’t already incapacitated, “the evacuation would have gone a lot smoother with my potential.” Ruriko flipped her hand so that her palm rested facing up, inviting him to rejoin in the connection. “You don’t have to carry all the burden by yourself…you know?”

Lucem

 

[BluEndings]

ZANE RIDDLE

CS Link

SCENE:

[PECKING ORDER]

TIME:

Post-Arc 3

LOCATION:

South District | DMV

PARTICIPANTS:

Zane, YY

PECKING ORDER

His blithe stride had taken the man all the way from elsewhere to here.

Step. Step. Step.

The path was cleared with but heavy emanation and the obstinate weight of shoulders that dared not fold. It wasn’t a matter of crass or ill-manner. It was a beat which could not afford to be interrupted. A symphony consisting of him and him alone, that would not allow any discordant noise. He wasn’t pushing anyone down, but the heedless and the proud fell the same.

The vacantness of Zane’s character was only flipped upright at the precise moment the DMV came into view. It was then that a cheap smile surfaced across his face in tandem with the calloused hands that slicked his hair back. His steps too, took to matching his conceit and his likewise rising shoulders. If the muscles in his body were capable of more, they would no doubt ripple and bloat even further.

The stretch between the entryway and the present was unnoteworthy, but there would be no missing a man deliberating seating just adjacent—especially not this man.

“Is somebody yanking my chain?” He sang. “Or is that one ‘Yee-Yee’ I’ve so happened upon?”

NAVIGATE

 

[BluEndings]

HIFUMI BAE

CS Link

SCENE:

[For Rest]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1 | March 7 2020

LOCATION:

Nona's Forest, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Nona-me

FOR REST

Nickname aside, it really had been some time.

Hifumi chose not to respond, and instead offered a fiddly grin. It was a better representation than any words he might be able to cobble together. The last few years were all one muddy blur that didn’t demand any scrubbing, because the things that had sunk beneath were not the kind to seek out. There was trust here, and plenty of, but today could finally be like any other—without all that.

Dinner sounded nice after all.

. . .

When it came to the lake, he followed Nona-me’s lead and couldn’t help but allow a soft laugh to escape. It would seem that no matter how much time passed, the best moments would always be the ones by water, and besides friends. Though why these moments always came with reflection was something lost to him. Naturally water itself was reflective, and of course one’s visage would be reflected so, but to go deeper than that was… funny.

“Reflection?” Hifumi repeated. “I don’t think I ever had the opportunity to tell you, but I met a friend in a similar place. Only instead of a lake, it was a pond, and I guess it’s a bit presumptuous of me to say ‘friend.’”

The tension in his face softened.

“And before that, I actually met that fox of mine in a similar situation too.” He caught his laugh this time. “That involved me falling into the water though, but it does come to mind.”

“I am not sure if that is what you meant.” He added. “Is there something specific you tend to reflect on?”

NAVIGATE

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

To Live in the Shadows

TIME:

Afternoon, Pre-Arc 1, June 11th 2020

LOCATION:

Nameless Warehouse, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Helva

To Live in the Shadows

Stoic and resolute, Charlie stood there, in the middle of the warehouse's most open area, waiting for a response to his calling. He knew somebody was here, able of hearing his voice, he had no reason not to believe the cute girl with the coat. And so he waited...And waited some more, and a bit more waiting after that. All the while, dusk continued to become darker, rays of light seeping through the windows grown weaker, the orange tinge getting more saturated, until it was fully gone, replaced by the cold, unwelcoming darkness.

"...Hello?" He asked, his expression now turning to that of uncertainty and doubt. Was there perhaps a technical difficulty? Maybe whoever was coming was late, so they hadn't even entered the warehouse just yet?

He decided to take a few steps around, straining his eyes to make out the details and intrincacies inside, he just needed a couple minutes to let his pupils get used to the darkness. He noticed that with his aimless steps, he lightly kicked a lone piece of rebar that lied on the ground, the loud clanging echoing through the building. He picked it up, his fingers gently pinching on the bumpy surface of the steel. Giving it a good look, a hypothetical light bulb lit up on his head, as he grabbed one of the ends of the rebar with his dominant arm. Then, with his other hand, he started to pull and bend the thin piece of still as if it was but a soft piece of fresh clay. Slowly, he continued to envelop his dominant hand with it, until it was completely wrapped by the steel. If a fight was breaking out soon, it was good to have a makeshift weapon prepared, such as the knuckleduster wrapping he just made.

He leaned his back against one of the several large crates in the vicinity. Waiting for what he assumed to be his late challenger to show up.

@Peckinou