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

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Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
The Meaning of Music
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
TIME:
Pre Arc-3 | March 16th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Sabrina
The Meaning of Music

"That'll be $4.49."

"Ugh, this is so damn tiresome."

"Eh? Why are you so fixated on that?"

"Well, we're still friends, aren't we?"

"I have something to say-"


"FUCK!" An immediate jolt shocked its way through Sang-Cheol's body. The sheer surprise and shock washed over him, and he rose and slammed a fist at whoever was behind. The figure immediately sailed to one of the walls. A loud bang could be heard as the figure collided with the metal walls. Slowly processing in his slowly awakened mind, the person he had just sent flying was Timothy.

"Shit, it's already time?" Sang-Cheol groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. In a few short words, Sang-Cheol looked absolutely like shit. His hair was a mess, and his clothes were a wrinkled mess. His eyes were red and dark bags accompanied them, sitting right below them. He had a bad case of posture as he slumped down. The exhaustion was slowly setting inside him. "What the fuck was I going to do again?" Sang-Cheol muttered to himself.

A quick scan of the area told him what he needed to know. "Right..." There were two files of Sable Serpents. One of them was Raphael, who had gone missing, a fact Sang-Cheol was relieved for. The other was a person named Sabrina Felton. He had her medical file on his desk because he had found it while organizing Snake's room. A small curiosity piqued his interest when he peaked into her file.

Grabbing his lab coat from his chair, Sang-Cheol made his way up the stairs. Pushing up his sunglasses, thoughts ruminated in his head. The entire reason why he wanted to meet up with Sabrina was for his research. After spending five months in his lab researching, the results were inconclusive. Raphael's blood was insufficient as of right now. While Sang-Cheol had a big sample size, he only had a few variations of different samples. That being with Sabrina having similar circumstances with Raphael, made her the perfect subject to-.

"Ow, fuck..." Sang-Cheol said as he walked right into the door. There wasn't an elevator that went down from the first to the seventh floor of the lab. All he could do was ascend several different flights of stairs to reach the base floor. He was out of breath. "Fuck... Who decided not to add an elevator to this lab?" Sang-Cheol asked himself a question that he knew the answer himself. The fault was laid on him and his paranoia.

Slowly reaching the common area, he checked to see if Sabrina was there or not. Hopefully, she would be here after the trouble he went through to get to come. It wasn't something he would typically do, but he felt it was necessary this time.

 
RURIKO IKEDA
SCENE:
Date ???
TIME:
Friday, May 27th, 2022 || Post Arc 2
LOCATION:
Central, Catmosphere Kitty Cafe
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah & Ruriko
DATE ???

“Heh — ‘preciate it, Isaiah.” She grinned sheepishly, glancing away for a moment as she scratched her cheek. Ruriko was definitely not known as someone who was ‘soft’, ever since she joined the Dragons she had always kept up a tough-as-nails facade. It was easier to earn respect through intimidation and after all these years in the gang, it still worked on the current rookies.

“Huh –?” A look of surprise replaced her embarrassed expression as she processed his compliment. She…was doing a good job? That…she was not used to hearing that. Her chest swelled with bittersweet emotion as she offered Isaiah a small, sad smile. She couldn’t exactly recall the last time someone praised her — genuinely that is. Ruriko was used to the expectation that she needed to do better, and that her current progress was never good enough. It was ingrained into her at an early age.

The fact that she assumed this was a date certainly didn’t help her torrent of emotions. Was he just saying that to be polite or did he really mean it? She didn’t see Isaiah as the type to lie to her specifically but he was also a man with quite literally many faces who would say and do anything to gather information. Nevertheless, the irrational part of her decided his compliment was genuine and that didn’t help her resolve her feelings at all. “No, no.” Ruriko shook her head slightly, “I value your opinion, and uh…it means a lot that you think I’m doing a good job.”

She chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her head as she did so, “ah, I hope that didn’t sound too sappy, I’m just not used to getting many compliments.” Ruriko paused for a moment, thinking over what she just said, “er, sorry— I don’t mean to trauma dump on our date.”



Lucem Lucem
 
Ottilie James
SCENE:
The IT Guy and The Scientist [January 2022]
LOCATION:
[Classified], Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiram, Ottilie
The IT Guy and The Scientist
Ottilie leaned back in her chair - yes, her chair - and stared up at the bright halogen lights above. With a gentle kick, she began to spin and so did the lights, morphing from a single spot on the ceiling to a circular streak of white. Round and round she went until she felt her stomach start to churn. Eventually coming to a stop, she turned back to face Hiram only to find three of him staring back at her, swirling in tandem.

"...and if you do, we won't bother you any longer..."

After giving her head a firm shake to break the inertia of the endolymph still sloshing about in her inner ear, she paused to carefully consider everything Hiram had just said. "An investment. In me." She echoed under her breath and a small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. She liked the sound of that. Suddenly standing up, she did a couple of stretches before pacing about the room, running her fingers lightly across all her new equipment. Already she was thinking of all the different tests she could run and the data she could extract. "Why do I need a pseudonym?" She asked. "I like the name Ottilie James. It's mine." She held up the student ID she had hanging around her neck and showed it to the boy as if she needed to prove that it was indeed her actual name. Catching a glimpse of the photo on her ID, Hiram would notice that her hair there was not the pastel pink she sported now but rather a dark velvet blue. "Also, who counts as higher-ups in the Dragons? What if my parent asks me about my research over dinner? Can I tell them? What about Karin? She's my best friend and I don't like lying to her..."

As someone who preferred to cover all her bases, Ottilie began listing the names of every single person she could think of who might ask questions about her research, ranking them from the highest possibility (her thesis supervisor) to the lowest (her five-year-old niece whose family was currently based in Seol; 0.009% chance of a relevant coherent question asked).

As she concluded her list, a secondary thought popped into her mind and her eyes opened so wide she looked almost manic. Walking up and grabbing onto Hiram's sleeve, she leaned in and whispered in an almost conspiratorial manner.

"By any chance, do you think they'd be able to stock the fridge with Orange Juice?"


YumenoTsukishiro YumenoTsukishiro
 
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ROCCHI (Nakazajo Chikage)
SCENE:
Chasedown
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 — April 4th, 2022
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Chikage, Sang-Cheol
CHASEDOWN
“Are you sure you aren't confusing me with my friend?”

Chikage was almost offended that this asshole could even imagine such a lousy attempt at deception would dupe him. As for the outraged babbling; that meant nothing to him, as it was always the same story. An officer or two or three fails to uphold and the rest take the fall. Against that, there was only so much he could do within the confines of the system… Though, lately, he was starting to not care about the system

“I’m certain,” he replied, stepping forth. Based on Sang-Cheol’s body language, he started to anticipate that this wouldn’t go over easily, and hooked the HP-effective handcuffs around his belt loop to free both of his hands.

Just then, as Chikage prepared to jump the Serpent, Sang-Cheol, said man’s company—the young boy—interrupted by pulling Sang-Cheol’s ear down to level with his short stature. What he said, Chikage was unsure of, but whatever it was seemed to unlock something within Sang-Cheol.

“What are you talking about?” Sang-Cheol asked the boy.

Chikage raised a brow, curious as well.

“NAKAZAJO, THE WOM-” Detective Warren’s voice was abruptly drowned out by the sound of gushing water, which resembled that of the hazy applause of thousands from a distance, as if cheering at the prospect of playing the Captain for a fool.

Blasting him straight in the face, the Captain was sent flying back into the orange Nissan, the water carrying him all the way, where his body crushed the side exterior. As for Warren, he’d been clipped by only a small portion of the liquid torpedo, and his shoulder was dislocated. He laid between Chikage and the now fleeing Sang-Cheol in writhing agony, clutching at the pain to no relief, but Chikage passed him by in pursuit of his target.

“IT’S USELESS TO RUN, YOU FUCKING COWARD!” he screamed in a rage, overcome by something deep within, but not fully lost.

With powerful steps, he was gaining on the Serpent with noticeable ease, but grew impatient. A light-pole in passing, the Captain extended an arm aside and snatched it right out of the concrete—chunks flew and some nearby civilians witnessing the chase ducked their heads in fear of potential debris—and he vaulted himself into the air with the light-pole as his extension.

From above Sang-Cheol, a shadow appeared, growing, as Chikage descended down upon him and swung the pole in a downward arc with the intent to crush him like a bug.
CHIKAGE NOTES​
— —The majority of the front, right half of Chikage's body is badly scarred from burns, stopping halfway up his neck. The skin is distorted, discolored, and unpleasant to look at. For this reason, he wears a black, leather glove always covering his right hand, and usually wears long-sleeved, concealing clothes. Reference (X)

— —What he's wearing: (Click: X) Long-sleeved, white sweater; Grey trousers w/ belt; White shoes; Wrist-watch and Glove on his right hand

— —POST RECAP: Chikage chases Sang-Cheol.

Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
Chasedown
LOCATION:
North District, Streets
TIME:
Pre Arc-3 | April 4th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Chikage, Rebecca [NPC]
Chasedown

Sang-Cheol ran with everything he had. Emotions and memories that he had thought were long lost were now surfacing back.

The only thing that indicated that he was going to get attacked was a very noticeable shadowy line growing closer to him. His instincts connected the thoughts, and he barely managed to roll away from the descending attack.

The ground shattered and sent debris everywhere. The shards scratched Sang-Cheol's face just by the sheer force unleashed, "Why... WHY... WHY... WHY!" Sang-Cheol screamed out loud. He could already see the blood. Everything that happened to him resurfaced as invasive thoughts entered his head.

He turned with fearful eyes. "What did I do to deserve this?" A pointless answer, but nonetheless still asked. With the narrowness of the alleyway, his body immediately acted on its own. "I did nothing wrong... I did nothing wrong... I DID NOTHING WRONG."

A molotov was immediately tossed up and caught by one of the Sang-Cheol's hands. Pure muscle memory already sent it flying at the cop, lit and on fire.

Sang-Cheol's HP would have been considered a weak, fire-ether HP. He didn't have the raw strength of one, and if he did use it, the nerves in his body would be slowly disintegrated. However, there were a variety of effects that made it useful. For starters was its ability to enhance items created by Sang-Cheol with his flames.

For drugs, it increased their effectiveness of them. The effect of using molotov was simple. A molotov was used to light buildings on fire. The enhanced version of that molotov was much more destructive.

It would set everything in this alley on fire. Him. The Cop. The Buildings. The Poles. Everything.


 
HECTOR MOSES
CS Link
SCENE:
Blood Stained Girl
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 - Night, 2016
LOCATION:
Alley, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Raquel
BLOOD STAINED GIRL

Hector took another step towards the girl, his arm remained pinned to his back as he bent over to look down at her and her victim. Her distress was obvious but Hector remained straight-faced as he continued to examine what lay in front of him. With his other hand, he felt around in his pockets before grasping at a shiny paper square, which he retrieved but kept firmly secure in a balled fist.

He didn’t need to ask her again if she was responsible, the scene spoke for itself, and even if she wasn’t responsible he doubted she was stable enough to recognise that. Her name was a more pressing issue, but again, it didn’t seem like she’d have a helpful answer any time soon.

“It’s alright, you’re safe, you’re safe.” Tone-aware enough to know to try a softer approach with the woman, Hector crouched down to her level, and with a moment of hesitation, he uncurled his hand to reveal a grainy photograph of two men. His eyes darted between the girl, the photograph, back to the girl, down to the body, back to the girl, and returning to the photograph. He continued to look between them, careful not to keep his eyes off the girl for too long, his bladed arm still poised to swing at her.

His initial reaction to the body was proving to be more accurate than he thought. It really could be his target, and so he looked back at the girl finally, not breaking eye contact as he retreated his palm from her reach, close to his body.

“I am The Pharaoh. Tell me… Could you tell me what happened here?”

He could already tell that this could be a huge waste of time, and his patience was already wearing slightly thin, but he had a gut feeling, intuition telling him not to cast the girl aside. After all, was it not part of his duty as a Scarlet Phoenix to look after the district? Whether she was a damsel to rescue or a threat to be neutralized, he had an obligation to stay on scene.
 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Lost on Bourbon
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, 1AM, June 5th 2021
LOCATION:
???
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Boltius Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
LOST ON BOURBON

Already out of breath from his brief freedom, he remained leaning against the cage’s bars for a few moments, closing his eyes as another wave of nausea rose through him. For a moment, he was unaware of the situation developing within the cage as Bravadia pushed them to start their battle, only snapping back to reality as the NP man began his futile attack against Boltius and turning back in time to see him downed in a single hit.

“Bolt…”

He turned to the other man with a glare, expecting a follow-up attack, but the 2nd NP cowered on the other side of the cage, mouth open in pure terror moving in an attempt to make some inaudible plea for his life. As the hostess of the twisted show spoke once again, he turned his attention back to her, a feral growl emerging from his throat as he took a few steps towards Boltius.

A fight between… what? Comrades… huh? The chaotic atmosphere moved too quickly for Hector to process fully what he was being commanded to do, but he locked eyes with Boltius with a fighter’s stance, subconscious bloodlust betraying his allegiance to his brother in arms.

“Will I… have you?” Despite the context being clear from Bolt’s previous words, the ambiguity of the statement left uncertainty in Hector’s mind. Regardless, he seemed to relish the words anyway as a semblance of his usual sly smirk appeared, though a hand gripped over his head in a moment of pain was an indicator that he was not in much of a state to fight.

“I’ll have ya alright, didn’t think you’d make the first move.”

“THERE YOU GO FOLKS! Hope you’re ready to bid!”

With Hector’s own words laced with ambiguity, the balling of his fists further muddled the mixed messages he was giving as he took one more staggered step towards the redhead. And then after a brief pause, he lunged towards him. Guess he knew what he was being asked to do all along.
 
SCENE:
Blood Stained Girl
LOCATION:
Alleyway, South District
Time:
Pre-Arc 1 | ???
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Hector
Blood Stained Girl

Did she have a mother? How about a father? There may have been a little sister that she had missed. Why were they not here? Why weren't they here? Where were they? Countless thoughts crept into the monster's mind as she blinded herself from the world around her. The anxiety and agony of becoming lucid enough to recognize the sense of self were painful.

Then a soft tone came up from before. Who was the man that reminded her of this pain? With that hunger held at bay, she peeked from the gaps of her hands. Was she safe? "What do you want." She cried. With the bit of intelligence she had left, the bloodstained girl could realize that the person in front of her wanted something from her. What exactly was it did they want?

An outstretched hand. A photo of two men. A scrumptious hand. However, the man in front of her was smart enough to know her nature and retreated it long enough for her to see the picture. The Pharaoh, he called himself, asked her what had happened. The bloodstained girl remained silent for a few seconds. One of the men in the pictures had recognized one of them. The man behind her...

"I was hungry..." The girl muttered. "I don't know how long I was hungry, but I was hungry. I wandered the alleyways all by myself." A much louder voice than before. "I was looking for something, and... Something hit me." It was searing pain. From what she recalled from her memories, it came from behind and struck her without notice. "I... I don't remember much after." Everything afterward was a blur at best spotty images and fragmented memories.

"Though. I think. In that photo. I think I saw that man." Raquel said as she thought about it. Something in her mind told her that she had seen this man. Something in her mind said to her that man was dead. The girl paled even whiter than before. Was this man going to kill her for killing the man? Did she kill this man's friend? The girl suddenly started shaking.

"Ugh..." The hunger returned. Her stomach groaned in response. A gnawing pain that tried to consume her from the gut out.


WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
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HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Passing The Torch
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 — September 28th, 2021 — 5:00 PM
LOCATION:
(Shady's Motel) Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Reika, Doctor Slim (NPC), Boltius Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
PASSING THE TORCH

Hector let the silence reign as he struggled under a new wave of emotion. As pathetic as he may have felt, he wasn’t about to show more vulnerability than he already had, and so he battled with the incoming tears. Jagged nails — worn and torn from the fighting — gripped his bandaged arms, digging in with intent to harm while his chest rose and fell with deep breaths to suppress the choked up feeling in his throat. His eye fell a few times away from Bolt’s face, his clothes a lot more palatable a sight, but he willed himself to meet his gaze again every time. Don’t be weak.

Only when a hand pulled Hector close did he finally lose the battle, a few tears breaking free while he leaned into Bolt’s shoulder, the drops disappearing into his clothes on contact. He returned the gesture briefly, with a one-armed hug before the men let eachother go.

“I ain’t mourning…”

That’s all he could say at first while Bolt’s speech sunk in. It gave him a lot to consider, things he should’ve already realised by now but hadn’t, blinded with self-pity at his state. He had boots to fill, and whether he was happy with the circumstances or not, he couldn’t hide from it.

“I don’t want it to happen like this.”

Hector had fantasised about the moment for a long time, stepping up to become the Queen, perhaps one day an Emperor. But in his fantasies he had Reika watching over him from the board, and 1000s of faithful soldiers behind him, following him into Central, waiting for him to reveal the path forward to claim all they deserve. Everything. And he would bestow a prosperous life upon his people.

How could he live up to that now?

“... But you’re right. She’s gonna return to an empire spanning the whole fucking city. And those bastards… they won’t take anything from us again.”

By being Hector Moses, of course.

A dash of colour returned to Hector’s sallow complexion as he walked slowly to the table and sat before giving Boltius a commanding look.

“Could you sit down? There’s more we need to talk about.”

Though his usual energy still evaded him, he hadn’t forgotten what happened, nor did he intend on letting it fall to the wayside.
 
HIRAM ABAYAN
SCENE:
The IT Guy and The Scientist [January 2021]
LOCATION:
[Classified], Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiram, Ottilie
The IT Guy and The Scientist
Hiram expected some pushback on the terms presented, perhaps a little hostility with the strictness of the stipulations. What he didn’t expect was the deluge of words that burst out of the peppy scientist’s mouth. His mind, quick as it was, struggled to keep up with every inquiry and question that Ottilie had, mostly about the (insanely high) number of people she wanted to talk about the research with. He almost missed that little detail about the discrepancy between Ottilie’s hair color and the one on her ID picture (though he had to admit, both suited her well). And then she had the gall, the audacity, to ask for orange juice? In this laboratory? The one he personally set-up a coffee machine for? Orange juice?

First things first. “You can only talk about your research with me, and the upper ranks of the Azure Dragons, which include the King, Queen, Jack, and Ace. Anyone outside of that is on a need-to-know basis. In short, you cannot tell anything about your research to any person you’ve just told me. Yes, including Karin, even if she is your best friend. You wouldn’t want anything untoward to happen towards any of these people, would you?”

And then the second thing. “A pseudonym is incredibly important to protect your identity. What would happen if, by some unfortunate circumstance, some unsavory types knew your name? Not only would you be in danger, so would any person connected to you, including your family, and yes, Karin. Again, you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to these people, right?”

And lastly. “Orange juice is not the optimal drink for a scientist to intake, especially one who needs all of their mental faculties operating at their most optimal. If you insist… Well, you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, yeah?”

Interactions: Saturn_moon Saturn_moon
 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Visiting Rich People
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 - October 2020
LOCATION:
Gallo Grande Rooftop, Upper Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Jesper, Hector
VISITING RICH PEOPLE

It had been months since the Hurricane, but it was still as fresh in Hector’s mind as it was when it occurred. Countless comrades lost, their district decimated, and their empire toppled. He had to learn his new place quickly, filling in the boots of his fallen predecessor. And he did exactly that, never one to shy away from a challenge, especially not in a position entrusted to him by his beloved Reika.

Though it would never be worth what his gang paid for it, he couldn’t help but enjoy his new position, always knowing he was destined for it even as a scrappy teen finding his footing all those years ago. The respect, authority, and privileges made him feel more smug than usual, even letting him take command over one of Helva’s recruits for the night.

He paced the rooftop, mask in hand. It was only a facemask, not a full disguise, but if Hector was by himself he wouldn’t have even bothered with that. His face was too notorious and too pretty to stay covered (in his opinion), but he had to consider the rookie’s identity. He did recognize the merits of a mask.

“This is gonna help a lot of people, Temperer.” Hector halted to face Charlie directly, though it had grown too dark to see anything in detail. “It’s important that you do your job properly, alright? I know Revenant recruited you for good reason, so I wanna see that. You got something special.” Though Helva’s endorsement did mean something to him, it wasn’t all that important if he didn’t see something himself, trusting his gut more than any logical reasoning. His gut sensed something special, and so Hector’s standards grew higher for the newbie.

“I don’t want that asshole to have a single Amestriyen left when we exit the building.” Mere reference to Benedict Gallo was enough to send anger through the Ace’s body, bringing his mind back to the Hurricane and how the tragedy was abused. It wasn’t just a heist on the rich, it was personal.

“So when you’re ready…”

A point toward the rooftop doors finished Hector’s instructions.
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
North Says No!
TIME:
February 5th, 2022
LOCATION:
Redwater High, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park, Eric Evensen
North Says No!
It wasn't often that Passeri paid the North a visit.

She, no, they had history. Without the dingiest of New Oasis's districts, she couldn't deny that she wouldn't be the woman she was today. Had she been born in the West, South, or especially East, the Passeri Park that the world knew today would've probably been an average lady, at least by the standards of an HP. That name, even, might've never seen the light of day. She'd still be Brandy Baker, whiling away her life in the pursuit of another dream, perhaps in the service of another of New Oasis's gangs.

But, she wasn't. The North was like a concrete mother, it'd done more to raise her than her actual parents ever had, at least, but unfortunately, her relationship with it was just as estranged as it was with her actual mother. Even putting the risks associated with paying a visit aside, there was an invisible something that coiled in her gut whenever she was here. All day, she'd been doing her best to push it to the back of her mind, but whenever her mind strayed, there it was again, waiting and ready. She'd tried to put a name to it already, but much like the namesake of the District's dominant gang, it had eluded her grasp.

Once more, Passeri pushed the thought aside. It wasn't the right time for introspection.

"Haha..." Passeri half sighed, and half laughed. The pair of them, herself and Officier Evensen, were sat atop a broad, sparse courtyard. Flanking them on either side was an assortment of classrooms, each a different size, and each built for a different purpose. Despite their differences, all of them one thing it common: Their population was sparse. Students, those loud, precocious things that were the life and purpose of a school, were hardly anywhere to be seen. The most densely populated of the classrooms had twelve, or at best fifteen students at most, and the rest hardly managed to break into the double digits.

Passeri had been expecting as much. During her brief three years within the public education system, absences were hardly a rare thing. It was far more fanciful to abandon one's education and join one of the city's many gangs, after all, a career choice that was especially popular within the North.

She'd been expecting as much, but she hadn't thought it would be this bad. Even with the power of her stardom behind them, her and the Officer's little PSA had only managed to attract a handful of visitors, and most of them were just teenage girls looking for an autograph. Or adult men looking for an autograph.

She was almost certain that she'd be able to count on her hands just how many people had come to actually listen to what they had to say.

"Rough crowd, huh?" She chimed wryly in Eric's direction. Honestly, the whole point of the day was to impress upon the Officer how bad things were. Strife made for a wonderful bonding experience, after all, and what better way to pull on the heartstrings was there than kids?

But, even if she was expecting the day to end in failure, to witness firsthand just how much to North had continued to degrade in her absence...

The sight made whatever it was in her gut coil a bit tighter.

"You think we'll get any more bites? There was that one kid that said he'd get his friends to come over during lunch, but..." She exhaled, and gave Eric a tired smile. "...Somehow I get the feeling they're not gonna be interested. I figure we can only stick around for so long before someone uploads a photo to Bluebird and this turns into a signing event, too."

She wouldn't have been surprised if there was some rabid stan on their way over already.

"You mentioned you'd done this kind of thing before, right? Do you have any tips? What's the NOPD's favourite way to educate the youth?" Her voice was chipper, but she wasn't really interested in the answer. At least, not if he was just going to quote some instructional handbook. As nice of a man as Eric seemed, if the city's way of dealing with the drug epidemic was going to work, it already would have. It was just the first question of many. If she was going to work with this man, then she needed to know what he was about. What he believed in.

"Maybe we could give it a shot! Couldn't go worse than..." She looked around the empty courtyard. "...Well, this."
 
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Ezra Knight
SCENE:
Making Amends
LOCATION:
Post Arc 2: Ezra's Apartment, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Isobel
MAKING AMENDS
As Isobel rummaged through the box, Ezra reached for the remote that controlled the air conditioner. After seeing her down half of her water in one go, he decided to lower the temperature a bit. Is it really that hot? Not feeling particularly warm, he wondered if Isobel was just sensitive to the heat, not noticing that he'd nearly emptied his own bottle after his first sip. The nerves were still there.

Honestly, he didn't know what to say as he looked at the assortment of items Isobel had arranged. If these really were gifts, he would accept them gratefully, but he had a hard time trying to comment on them and kick off another conversation to lessen the awkwardness. Books? Outside of academic texts and other novels he was forced to study, he never read much, hardly having the time between surviving hellish training and working for the Tigers. Records? He often listened to music and sang at karaoke bars, but he didn't really want to start talking about that. If he accidentally let it slip that he was going to those places alone, he'd probably die of embarrassment before any gangster could get their hands on him.

When the ceramics and clock were set out, all he could think about was the stocked shelves at Isobel's apartment. That and the confusing ramblings of the white-haired Tiger he'd met. She really does like stuff like this.

He was still drawing a blank on what to say next, fearing that each revealed item was bringing them back to a second round of awkward silence. However, when Isobel laid out several paintings, his brain shifted gears. At first, he felt a touch of embarrassment when he heard her describe the name of the painted peonies, and he wondered if hanging up pieces of a flower with his name would make him look like a narcissist. The feeling didn't last long, forgotten about after he got a closer look at the Jack's handiwork.

"Oh, these are really good." A genuine reaction slipped from his lips as he came closer, inspecting the art. Kneeling down, he gently ran a thumb over the canvas, stopping each time he recognized a particular technique that could've been used during the painting process. He'd seen a lot of famous artwork in the past, often brought to galleries and forced to learn things for the sake of keeping up appearances. He remembered a lot of the information, but unfortunately, he never had a knack for painting things himself, much to his parents' disappointment and his brother's amusement.

"That's right, there were flowers painted on your door too." More of his earlier anxiety faded as he turned his attention back to Isobel. "Do you like flowers? Or do you paint other things too?" Yeah, that should've been really obvious, but he had to ask. He finally caught a break and found a new tool to break some of the thick ice. This was going in a good direction, right? This was better, right?


Saturn_moon Saturn_moon
 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Blurred Borders
LOCATION:
Hartswan Terrace, North District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1: October 25, 2019 -- Night
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Celestine
BLURRED BORDERS

“We’ve been nothin’ but loyal to the Serpents. This doesn’t make sense.” The man snapped back with a scowl. His gun remained raised but shook slightly with the nerves of the situation.

Darius had taken a few baby steps towards the table but remained further away than Celeste as he looked between the traitorous Serpents, to determine his best move. His hand slid towards his pocket, where his knife was hidden from sight, thankfully unnoticed due to the commotion Celeste had caused.

“That’s something to take up with the leadership. D-don’t shoot the messenger, right?” Though messengers didn’t typically point knives at people and threaten to load their corpses into a van, Darius attempted a smile to put the traitors at ease. Another baby step toward the group resulted in the man switching aim to Darius, before remembering what was at stake and pointing the gun back at Celeste, clearly uneasy.

“Don’t come any closer.”

“If I were you…” Darius spoke slowly, his voice trembling, “I would come with us without any fuss, and go see the boss. I think he’s willing to be mercif-”

“No! I’ve seen what he does. Mercy my ass.”

“You’d rather die? Shut up.”

One woman elbowed the other, quickly stopping their movements after feeling the knives still against their throat. The chances of leaving the room without bloodshed seemed slimmer and slimmer, and Darius recognized the urgency of the situation. Without thinking, Darius broke into a running lunge at the armed man, who, in a panic, fired his gun wildly in Celeste’s direction, before feeling a hand pushing against his chest, almost causing him to careen off-balance. But only for a second.

As Darius lunged, he briefly locked eyes with the burly man that had sat silently this whole time. Though his appearance had seemed threatening at first glance, his relaxed demeanor left him in the shadow of his much more aggressive allies until now. As soon as their eyes met, Darius’s view was suddenly that of the ceiling, moldy and gross, his body suddenly warping backwards by unknown force. His arms remained outstretched for a moment until they, along with his entire body, got pulled down by gravity, landing with a thud on the floor.

A blur of action ensued. As Darius gained his bearings, shots fired his way, courtesy of the gunman he failed to take down. One shot went through the rotting floor, another struck his abdomen, though it failed to do much damage given Darius’s HP status, and he quickly scrambled backwards from the man. The burly man remained as relaxed as he had been when the duo first entered, but swiftly turned to face the two women that were being held at knife-point, locking eyes with them as well.

As quickly as he did that, the two women’s bodies rotated to the side and toppled to the ground, and he hoped that he acted faster than the tall Serpent’s blades could strike…

POST NOTES​
"Burly Man's" Potential: Rotate — This potential allows the user to rotate a person in any direction instantaneously after locking eyes with them, however there is a cooldown of 15 seconds on each target.

 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
My New Little Brother That My Sponsor Brought In Is Way Too Cute And I Want To Dote On Him But I Don't Want To Scare Him Because I'm A Cannibal
LOCATION:
Phoenix Headquarters, South District
Time:
Pre-Arc 3 | ???
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Yukito
My New Little Brother That My Sponsor Brought In Is Way Too Cute And I Want To Dote On Him But I Don't Want To Scare Him Because I'm A Cannibal

"Haaaah, I'm bored," Raquel grumbled to herself. Crossing her legs and leaning against one of the sofas, Raquel found herself in a rut. The mission she was assigned was canceled because her client chickened out. Her chef was busy making new recipes, and chasing after Ozma wasn't in the mood. The veteran shot a glance at the rookies that were huddling in the corner. "Wanna talk, boys?" She flashed a grin.

The moment she had even looked at them, they ran away. Great. Another sigh escaped from her mouth as she leaned back into the chair. This is why she never went back to headquarters. For starters, everyone was scared of her. She couldn't imagine why; she only had a few people here and there. Plus, it wasn't like she would eat them. BB had already taught her that she couldn't go away and prey on her fellow Phoenixes.

The pain and trauma from that day made her shudder.

Hector was doing something, and Raquel decided to give him some space once she felt she was spending too much time with him. And then there was Milo. Her new little brother was an absolute eyesore. Once she had heard that the sponsored Rookie was brought in, Raquel had to scrutinize the artist. Milo failed to follow her every expectation.

"There is one more..." Yukito. She heard that Hector brought in another runt into the Phoenix. He had attended the Phoenix Party and got acquainted with everyone there. The reason why she couldn't participate was that she was promptly banned after taking a Phoenix off to the side. They needed a blood transfusion once everyone found them. However, that was enough of that. She wasn't looking forward to seeing another potential Milo.

With nothing to do, Raquel decided that today she would find her new little brother. She was given a general description of Yukito from Hector and was scanning to see him. "Where are you, little brother?"



weatheringwings weatheringwings
 
Last edited:
Isaiah Spade
SCENE:
Date???
LOCATION:
The East District, Isaiah's Apartment
TIME:
Friday, May 27th, 2022 || Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Ruriko
DATE???
Isaiah's artificial expression never changed, masking the confusion he felt when Ruriko mentioned their "date". For a moment, he wondered if he misheard her, but that was very unlikely. He heard her correctly, but that didn't really explain things.

As he thought about it, trying to come up with an explanation for a possible misunderstanding, certain things started to click for him. He looked back on Ruriko's behavior and her style of dress, everything leading up to that moment. That was when realization struck him, painfully late for someone who excelled in information gathering.

Back when he first asked Ruriko to spend some time together, he only meant it as a friendly invitation. He just assumed she understood, but clearly, there'd been some miscommunication. It's not like she could be blamed for anything. Now that he was looking at things from a different lens, he could see how his actions could've sent the wrong message. The compliment at the door, the matching illusion, and the hand holding were all things he hadn't thought much of at first, but now he felt some regret. It was fairly obvious that those things would've been taken the wrong way in any other context, but because he was with Ruriko, the thought never crossed his mind.

He didn't think Ruriko was capable of seeing him that way, so he'd gotten too comfortable. Even though it was far too late, he realized making that assumption was a mistake, one he'd be careful not to repeat. However, he had his reasons for believing Ruri wouldn't think of this as anything more than a friendly outing. He never forgot her relationship with Shuwei, something he always tried to be mindful of.

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize for saying how you feel." He didn't comment on the misunderstanding. If he brought it up now, it'd probably only hurt her, and that was something he didn't want. However, he couldn't just let things continue like this. That would've been irresponsible of him, and he wanted to make sure of something before this "date" went any further.

"There's actually something I wanted to ask you, and I'm sorry for taking so long to bring it up. It's okay if you don't want to answer." This was probably his last and only chance to raise the question, the current mood likely to shift if he waited any longer.

Leaning forward, he faced Ruriko directly. He wanted to read her body language and pick up even the subtlest expression, hiding his intent behind a fabricated face. He didn't make a habit of scrutinizing friends like he did enemies and marks he had no attachment to, but he wanted to make sure he understood everything behind her answer, if she chose to give one.

"Are you okay with this? This date?" While he never pried too deeply into her personal life, Isaiah was aware that Ruriko's relationship with Shuwei had some unresolved issues, many of which stemmed from the latter's disappearance. It was a sensitive topic, but one that was necessary to bring up. If Ruriko still felt conflicted, dealing with any kind of lingering emotions, then he was going to put a stop to this. To let this continue while she was unsure of things wouldn't be fair to her or Shuwei. If she wasn't ready, then he was more than willing to continue the day as friends and let her sort out her feelings. As for how he'd respond if she wanted this "date" to remain as it was...


Beann Beann
 
RURIKO IKEDA
SCENE:
Date ???
TIME:
Friday, May 27th, 2022 || Post Arc 2
LOCATION:
Central, Catmosphere Kitty Cafe
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah & Ruriko
DATE ???

Even though Isaiah reassured her that it was acceptable to speak freely, she felt a shift in the atmosphere. She couldn’t precisely place her finger on what it was exactly but her anxiety started to rise the moment he mentioned asking her a question.

What did he mean by his apology for not bringing it up sooner?

Did he plan on asking something personal?

Wait, why was he leaning in more??

Ruriko shrunk slightly back onto the sofa, a little wary of his movements but quickly relaxed when she realized this was his way of showing he was serious. Wait — why was he being serious?! This was supposed to be a chill date! Was she supposed to be serious too?? At that thought, she immediately sat up straight, the sudden motion disturbing the cat on her lap which resulted in the feline hopping off and wandering to the other corner of the cafe.

“Ah…” She stretched her hand out towards the fleeing cat, a look of heartbreak passed for a moment before returning her attention back to Isaiah. His question wasn’t what she expected, she thought it was going to be something much more personal like something about her childhood. Regardless, she felt a little embarrassed at the fact that he confirmed her assumptions that this was in fact a date. “I mean, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t okay with this. Have ya known me to do anything I don’t wanna do?” Unless ordered by leadership themselves but even then, she tended to argue back if it was something she didn’t like. It was the main habit that Shuwei used to point out —

Oh.

“This…you didn’t mean it like that…did you?”

It quickly became clear that he was trying to address the elephant in the room without being too frank about it. She wasn’t sure how to answer or even if she wanted to answer in the first place. Would talking about him spoil their night? She didn’t want that but she felt she owed Isaiah at least some open communication. “I…hrm…I will always love and care for Shuwei, he and Shen were my first…uh…real family when I joined the Dragons.” Ruriko started, taking a deep breath as she twiddled her thumbs together to keep her composure. “...I don’t want to believe he’s dead but he’s been gone for so long and…I don’t think it would be fair to me to wait any longer than I already have. I need to prioritize my happiness for once and…move on.”

She chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to break the tension. “So, uh – yeah, I’m okay with this date. I just hope you don’t think I’m using you to get over him — I’ve uh, been ready to date again for a couple of months now…”



Lucem Lucem
 
Gideon Gray
LOCATION:
West-South Bridge
TIME:
December 12th, 2021 || Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Milo, Gideon, Charlie, a big list of other people
Building Bridges
"Damn," Gideon lamented the fact that he couldn't get a sharpie from Milo. It would seem that getting a signed phone case from Passeri would be out of the question for now. Besides, it would be difficult to push his way through the crowd of people around her. "I guess a signature will have to wait another day."

Like Milo, Gideon inspected each of their plates before scooping a spoonful of baked beans into his mouth. It seemed like each of them had coincidentally chosen sausages as their choice of entree. Although Gideon didn't believe in such things as premonition, he hoped this was a sign that they would all get along well.

As he chewed, Gideon mulled over Milo's pessimistic words. Was all they doing really just taking part in a PR stunt? Gideon wanted to believe that Milo was wrong, but he also found Charlie's optimism to be desperate. He felt that as a group, they were able to get a significant measure of work done with the bridge, but admittedly, it didn't feel like they were going to be anywhere near done within sunset. But then if Milo truly believed that this was all a PR stunt, what urged the artist to stay?

For Gideon at least, it was like a confessional. Just because one confessed their sins didn't mean that they were absolved from it. It was simply a way to bring peace to the sinner. While he didn't like to think of it like that, every drop of sweat, every burning ache as Gideon shoveled, every puff of breath was to help him forgive himself. He didn't need this to be productive or otherwise.

"Hector?" Gideon's head perked up at the mention of the gregarious and spirited Queen. He disagreed heavily with Charlie's description, and he couldn't help but pipe up with a scowl even though the question wasn't directed at him, "Intense is putting things a bit mildly. His T-shirts alone make him look fucking scary. I could use some serious pointers on talking to him."

Gideon had many choice words to describe the Queen. But he wanted to hear from Milo, so much so that he looked at the blond haired man expectantly. He knew that Milo had neither the best track record with the Phoenixes nor did he seem like a typical Phoenix, so he was curious as to what opinions Milo could express... or what opinions he dared to express.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Roda the Red Roda the Red
The Regal Rper The Regal Rper The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa gxxberkit gxxberkit Nobody Special Nobody Special
 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
Do The Dew
LOCATION:
Phoenix Headquarters, South District
Time:
Post-Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Gideon
Do The Dew

"We've been expecting you, Mr. Barlo," Raquel said as she walked around her former client. The man decided that trying to double-cross was a good idea. That was, in fact, a horrible mistake. Mr. Barlo now found himself blindfolded, tied to a chair, and at the mercy of the infamous Gourmet and her new assistant. "Now, I always thought you were the smart type, Mr. Barlo." The sound of Raquel filing her could be heard from the darkness.

"Apparently, not." As quick as she took out the nail filer, she tossed it at the blinded man. Mr. Barlo screamed as blood sprinkled out of his newfound cut. A smile formed on Raquel's face.

"Please! I'll give you anything you want!"

"Anything? Then will you give me your heart?" In that immediate instance, Raquel straddled the blinded man. Both of them were exposed to the spotlight. "You see, I'm looking for a lover, and you're quite the sweetheart, Mr. Barlo." Raquel traced a heart on Mr. Barlo's chest. The man immediately paled at the actions of the Gourmet. Something inside Raquel made her giddy as she watched the man panic in front of him. She licked up some of his blood.

"Unfortunately, my family said that they need information from you." With one quick movement, she removed the blindfold. "I'll tell you now; I'm not too familiar with this. I like to swallow before I chew." She cupped the man's fear-ridden face and looked deep into his eyes. She admired his eyes before hopping off the man's lap and disappearing into the lights.

"Gideon, turn on the lights!" She announced in a regal manner. Her declaration was met with silence. "I said. Gideon, turn on the lights!" Raquel yelled much louder than before. How could her partner make her look stupid at this moment? If he weren't going to turn on the lights any second now, he'd be on the menu tonight.


Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 
Gideon Gray
SCENE:
Do the Dew
LOCATION:
Phoenix Headquarters, South District
TIME:
Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Gideon, Raquel
Do the Dew
Oh by the Lord Satan. Why. Why was he stuck backstage in a room with a cannibal? Why was he stuck with interrogating this man? Why was Gideon the assistant, when he was the cannibal's senior?! Gideon just wanted to go home and do his geography homework. He had a test in three days. His taxes were due soon.

Gideon jolted when he heard Raquel demand for the lights to be turned on. He began to fumble with the light switch, sweating as Raquel repeated the demand. He could hear the annoyance in her voice, and that made Gideon scared. But no matter what he did, no matter how many times he flicked the light switch panel, the lights wouldn't turn on.

"One... one second, Raquel!" Gideon said, his voice nervously cracking, "The lights aren't turning on!"

Gideon was going to need to improvise. A quick survey around the backstage revealed there was a metal trash can, a cart, and some flares. It would have to do. Gideon set the trash can alight on the cart, then kicked it out into the room, the flaming mess providing the light that Raquel so demanded. It wasn't particularly bright, but it was light.

"What... what the fuck," Mr. Barlo exclaimed in fear. The flaming trash can cart bumped into a second cart that was next to Raquel, and in the ominous orange light, its contents were visible. It held all sorts of instruments of torture. Whips. Scalpels. Mallets. And twenty gallons of soda. "What are you going to do to me?"

Gideon breathed in heavily, calming his nerves before strolling out to back up Raquel, "N-nothing if you give us what we want. Your end can come painless and easy. Or my fri-- mast--- uhh... colleague here could make your last living moments absolutely mi-- miserable."

In Gideon's hands were two poor substitutions of a spotlight, rattling as Gideon's hands shook in fear at being in Raquel's vicinity. They were essentially just flashlights attached to microphone stands, which he set, one on each of Mr. Barlo's sides, and beamed the flashlight directly into the man's face. But now that Gideon got close to Mr. Barlo's face, the person that he and Raquel were potentially torturing seemed much more human. Suddenly, Gideon didn't know whether he had it in him to coerce information out of the man if he refused to answer their questions.

"So," Gideon said as he walked away, "Tell us. Who do you work for? What did you tell them about us? What do you know about the organization you work for? And what--"

Suddenly, Gideon cut himself off. He couldn't do this. No. The pained expression in Mr. Barlo's eyes. The environment. And the blood that spurted out of Mr. Barlo's wounds. Oh, the blood. Gideon was going to be sick. Get it together, Gideon! Now was the time to show off the speeches that you've practiced! But despite telling himself that, the physiological reaction that Gideon had did not subside.

"Raquel, you can take it from here," Gideon said hastily, "I'm going to go get us some more soda, cause uhh twenty gallons isn't going to be enough."

Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
Do The Dew
LOCATION:
Phoenix Headquarters, South District
Time:
Post-Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Gideon
Do The Dew

When Gideon said there were complications, Raquel was considering special 'education' for Gideon for not turning on the lights. BB often gave her special 'education' whenever she 'accidentally' hurt another Phoenix, and it was pretty effective. It may be time to see if it worked on Gideon.

That was until a flaming cart came over and brightened everything in her vicinity. Raquel only stared at the burning cart that illuminated the room. 'Perfect' was what Raquel at the situation. However, there was an interesting question coming from Mr. Barlo. So interesting that it made Raquel's grin even more prominent. In contrast to her assistant, Raquel said these words in confidence. "The real question is, what aren't we going to do to you?"

In contrast to Gideon's stance, Raquel held herself high. Like an eagle looking down at her surroundings, she almost looked taller despite Gideon being a few inches taller than herself. If Raquel noticed any of Gideon's discomfort, Raquel didn't seem to notice or care for it. She decided to press her heel against the man's leg. The blade within her heel dug itself into Mr. Barlo's flesh.

"AAAAAAAAGHHHH"

"Yes, please do tell us what you know. I'm dying to know what you know." An innocent tone was fed into her voice. Her legs were jittery with excitement. Like a child waiting to open a present, Raquel said, "Super duper, please tell us, with a cherry on top, what you know." Somehow these words installed more fear into Mr. Barlo. It was as if he thought she was some maniac. Some part of the reasoning might be true, but nobody would tell her.

When Mr. Barlo didn't say anything, she sighed. "Fine, I guess we must do it the hard way." Taking out a piece of cloth from the box of many tortuous devices, she placed it over Mr. Barlo's head. "Forget getting more soda; the man isn't going to tell us without some force-" Before Mr. Barlo had a chance, Raquel punched him in the jaw to shut him up quickly. She tightened the cloth over Mr. Barlo's face. She looked over to Gideon.

"So Gideon. Do the dew!"


Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 
Last edited:
Isaiah Spade
SCENE:
Date
LOCATION:
Central, Catmosphere Kitty Cafe
TIME:
Friday, May 27th, 2022 || Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Ruriko
DATE
Isaiah shook his head a bit after Ruriko gave her response. "Don't worry, I know you wouldn't do something like that. I appreciate the honesty. Sorry if asking that made you uncomfortable."

Pulling away, he pushed his back against the sofa, sinking slightly deeper into the soft cushion. "I just thought it was important to make sure. Although, my timing could've been better." He wore a small smile as he chuckled, trying to kill some of the newly created tension.

He knew how Ruri felt now. There was no deceit in her words, and he could trust the honest emotions behind them. However, there was still one thing that needed to be resolved. He had to sort out his own feelings on the matter.

He had decided to save the thinking for later, only wanting to give it thought once he got an answer from Ruriko. Knowing what to do if she expressed uncertainty was easy, but things were more complicated now. Everything was on him, and he wasn't prepared for it. He never had to deal with anything like this before.

He'd been romantically involved with several people in the past, but none of those encounters were ever motivated by something genuine. They were means to an end, deemed necessary to accomplish tasks. He lied, always wearing physical and emotional masks to project the kind of person a target would find desirable. Once he had what he needed, he discarded his personas and the people they were created for. Those experiences would be of no use to him here. He couldn't just manipulate someone he actually cared about.

He never even considered something like this to be an option for him. The nature of his job necessitated that he be untrusting, and on many occasions, unfeeling. Even his own need for secrecy prevented him from ever giving a person complete honesty. To protect the only family he had left in the world, he had to maintain a barrier between himself and other people, no matter how thin. For that reason and many others, he believed that reaching a certain level of closeness with a partner was impossible. He had more or less accepted that he would always be alone, intending to live a solitary life so nobody would ever suffer because of the path he walked. However, now that he was suddenly thrust into this position, he was uncertain.

Ruriko was a fellow Dragon, a strong one who could handle herself in the face of danger. He didn't have to worry about her the same way he did others, even if he did still show concern for her safety. And he did like her. In many ways, they were opposites, but there was nothing about her he disliked. Her bravery, loyalty, and even her aggression were all parts of her he'd become fond of. But did he see her as more than a friend?

"All of this is still new to me, so I'll probably end up making more mistakes." As he spoke, the illusion around his face faded away. Silver strands of hair returned to their usual black, and his eyes regained their purple hue. While his Potential kept the people nearby from seeing his true self, he lifted the veil for Ruriko alone, wanting his words to come from his own mouth.

"But I promise I'll do my best." Closing the distance between them, he took her hand once again. This time, he was fully aware of what he was doing. He was walking into uncharted territory and still filled with uncertainty, but this was his decision. Even if it ended poorly and Ruriko called all of this a mistake, Isaiah would have no regrets about this. He wanted to know something for his own sake, if it was possible to have that sense of normalcy he used to believe wasn't allowed for someone like him. The answer wasn't clear yet, but he was going to figure it out one step at a time.


Beann Beann
 
Ottilie James
SCENE:
The IT Guy and The Scientist [January 2022]
LOCATION:
[Classified], Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiram, Ottilie
The IT Guy and The Scientist
Disappointment.

That was how Ottilie felt when Hiram turned down her request to tell Karin and her parents about her research. That said, while she didn't see her research being particularly important to warrant such security measures, Hiram did make a good point. The last thing she wanted was for any of the people she cared about to get hurt and as per laboratory rules, one can never be too careful.

However, regarding his comment about orange juice... "Actually, orange juice is known to be a great source of several different nutrients including vitamin C, folate, and potassium. Vitamin C, as you might know, is a powerful antioxidant and plays a central role in immune function. It also promotes bone formation, wound healing, and gum health. Folate on the other hand is needed for DNA synthesis while potassium helps regulates blood pressure, prevents bone loss, and protects against heart disease and stroke.

Studies also suggest that orange juice possesses anti-inflammatory properties that may reduce levels of specific inflammatory markers like C-reactive protein, interleukin-6, and tumor necrosis factor-α which have all been seen in conditions like metabolic syndrome, heart disease, and certain cancers."


Disquisition over, she looked over Hiram. Prior to today, she barely took notice of him. He had just been another face in the crowd, insignificant and inconsequential. Now the tables had turned and he held the fate of her research in his hands. How very interesting.

Getting up from her extremely comfortable chair (bless the ergonomics on this thing), she stepped forward and extended a hand to her new lab technician. "Regardless, I accept your offer."


YumenoTsukishiro YumenoTsukishiro
 
Isobel Pham
SCENE:
Post Arc 2: Making Amends
LOCATION:
Ezra's Apartment, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Isobel
Making Amends
Ezra's questions had caught Isobel off guard and for a second she confused interest for an interrogation. Reflexively, she felt the need to lie but soon remembered that Ezra wasn't the enemy and she was here to make amends. While her social skills were arguably dismal, she at least understood that lies and apologies didn't quite go hand in hand.

"My mother liked flowers."

Wow. Talk about zero to a hundred. Isobel had no idea what even compelled her to tell Ezra that seeing as it had been years since she'd talked about her mother to anyone. It felt too personal and despite all the time that had passed since her death, Isobel was still afraid the wounds would reopen and her heart would be left in pieces. Too late now. Realizing she had left Ezra hanging in silence for far too long, she decided it was best to just keep going and attempt to quickly change the subject. "She used to fill our home with all kinds of plants. I can paint other things too, but flowers..." Isobel almost wanted to say that they were a reminder of her mother, but that seemed too depressing a turn for a conversation that was only just starting. "They're comforting." She settled. That was close enough to the truth as she was willing to venture for now.

"So... Is there anything you like doing?" She asked. Although it was partially meant to take the attention off her, she was also genuinely interested to know more about the rookie who had been making quite an impression amidst the Tigers. Cleaning, perhaps? At that thought, she could help but spare the empty room another glance. While she had heard of minimalism as a design choice, this was quite extreme.


Lucem Lucem
 
Gideon Gray
SCENE:
The Trials of Belial
LOCATION:
Gideon and Jozef's Dorm Room, New Oasis Central University
TIME:
January 11th, 2022 | Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Gideon, Jozef
The Trials of Belial
It was a sleepy Tuesday. The dorm room was comfy with warmth as the heater shooed the cold out. The warm glow of golden Christmas lights lit up the perimeter of Gideon and Jozef's shared living space, and bobbleheads swayed in unison on the windowsill. Snow fell outside, the outside conditions making it impossible to venture out.

Gideon perused his dark and heavy Satanic bible as he sipped on a mocha-- a combination of Gideon's signature coffee and leftover Christmas hot chocolate. Using a loophole in the the Central University's club guide, Gideon had been able to set himself up as the club president of the Satan club. But with the inclement weather, it was impossible for Gideon to host any club meetings. That didn't mean that Gideon couldn't study up on how to be a better club president though.

Most people thought the Satanic Bible was inherently a book that promoted evil, but if one were to really sit down and read with an open mind, they'd be able to tell that the messages that were being told were perfectly normal. Be proud of who you are. Be kind to your neighbor not because it's something you've been ordained to do, but because that's what a decent human being would do.

But the passage that he was reading... really did feel a bit out there. It was a summoning ritual that involved a haphazard mess of chalk, candles vegetables, and goat blood. A vegan option was provided that substituted goat blood with a cranberry syrup recipe. The culmination of all the ingredients plus an incant would deliver a demon into a vessel. Gideon wasn't much of a science person, but he was sure that if Ottilie were here with him now, she'd agree that it all sounded a bit unscientific.

However, Satanism had only gotten its big revival within the last century or so. If these rituals had their foundations in a Potential that permeated throughout time even after the death of its user, that might explain away most of it.

"Hey Jozef," Gideon called out to his fluffy-haired roommate, "Do you have a minute?"

The only way to find out was by trying, and the ritual called for two people. Jozef, despite being a Serpent, impressed upon Gideon the innocence of an angel. It was a goal of Gideon's to indoctrinate Jozef into his club in order to subvert that angelicness.

"I'm practicing for the club that I'm running. I'm wondering if you want to help out," Gideon said. A mischievous look entered Gideon's facial expression, and although Gideon didn't smile, it almost seemed as if he had a smirk on his face, "Do you want to try out summoning a demon?"

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