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

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Cleo "PIXEL" Silva
SCENE:
Happiness & Prosperity
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 — February 1st, 2022
LOCATION:
白春花茶莊, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Meirin, Kairong, Amari, Levi, Ruriko, Ottilie, Silva
HAPPINESS & PROSPERITY
The retort reached him over the gentle murmur of tea-shop festivity—Meirin’s voice—and Silva promptly shut his mouth, flinching dramatically, though not actually startled, as he sought the woman in question.

“Idiota!?” he slapped a hand over his heart, meeting eyes with her as she approached.

Her body language suggested hostility, but Silva welcomed hostility. Beneath his mask, sharp teeth were bared in a wide grin, and he moved forward to meet her halfway, an unspoken agreement, before wrapping his arms around her in a mutual embrace.

“Good to see you’re still kickin’, Pixel.”

That got a chuckle out of him—then again, what didn’t?

“Hahahaa~” Silva released her, taking a step back to look at her properly. “The feeling es mutuo, flor. I feel great, but’ve felt greater, entiendes?”

Meirin popped in a pair of earbuds and Silva threw a glance around to find that Levi had gone off on his own. Subconsciously, he sought black tresses confined in a high ponytail but found not the one he was looking for.

“If you’re bored, go find some firecrackers or something~” said Meirin as she made herself a plate of personal pickings, plucked right from the vast selection of mouthwatering delectables. Rich, savory, sweet—aromas reaching with irresistible temptation that, surely, Silva would have obliged had he not eaten before coming.

“Haha! Mei, at this rate, you will have to gimme your dress!” And there it was, the thoughtless remarks of a carefree dare-devil. Hands over his stomach, he laughed some more, utterly oblivious as always to potential emotional responses in consequence to his ignorance and lacking delicacy.

He put his hands on his hips and with them drew flaunty circles, “They don’t make them to stretch, you know~”
SILVA NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: Silva interacts with Meirin. He's an idiot, indeed.

— —What he's wearing: (See post's image) Mask and orange-tinted goggles; Grey hoodie with biker jacket overtop; Black jeans that cut off at the thigh where his prosthetic legs begin; No shoes because metal feet

— —Silva's hair isn't spray-dyed this time around. As a result, he doesn't smell harshly of chemicals.

— —Pixels: Currently wielding none

(Interacting w/ Meirin)
(Mentioned Ruriko vaguely)
QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel
 
Boltius Beckman
SCENE:
Playground Affairs
TIME:
(Pre Arc-1) 2008, May 24th
LOCATION:
South District; Playground
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Vulken, Kaede
PLAYGROUND AFFAIRS
I can swing the highest, you know? Matsuda says it’s because my brother is strong, and that makes me strong because that’s just how it works. Science, I think.

Sun-tanned legs kicked back and forth, taking the boy higher with each determined exertion. Tangerine wisps frolicked in the wind atop his head.

We look a little different, but you can tell he’s my bro. He’ll be here soon and you’ll see.

Some kids watched as his small back paralleled the ground below, the sun splashing the shadow of his hand over his face as he reached out to touch it, squinting at the rays spilling between splayed fingers. Ready for this?

The seat of the swing descended without him.

He rode the momentum, briefly soaring up and out—hair like fire’s frenzy and eyes wide with crisp focus—then he landed firmly on both feet, crouched in the mulch not unlike his favorite TV-show character ‘Boy Hero’. I told you I can swing the highest.

Grinning, Boltius stood tall, hands on his hips, and shot a glance over his audience. “That was really high, wasn’t it?... I can do it again!” He went to turn. I’ll go even higher this time. A flash of red in his peripheral; he sought the source, spotting it. Vulken.

Boltius beamed bright.

See? He shows up for real these days. What’s even better is that Markus still don’t come around anymore.

One step and he was off, “Vulkeeeeen!”

But something was wrong…

As he drew closer, the excitement and energy became sapped from his charge—slowed to a cautious approach when he realized that the girl at Vulken’s side wasn’t going away. Not a passerby who happened to linger unaware, but a tag-along. Company. An obstacle.

...Who?

Boltius stopped maybe two feet short of them, angled closer to Vulken, and stared up at the girl.

“What’s this?” she asked, Bolt’s eyebrows twitching into a furrow. That’s my question, lady! But he remained quiet. She was prettier than Markus, so he could give her a chance. However, when unwarranted affection bit hard into the chub of his cheeks, he squeezed his eyes shut and grunted his disapproval, leaning away from the gesture but not breaking free.

“You must be the Beckman family pride then.”

I don’t know what that means! Get your hands off me! Vulken, do something!

Strike one.

She released him and Boltius rubbed the redness, glaring now.

“What’s your name? I’m Kaede! But you can call me big sis if you want~”

Promptly, Boltius swatted the air, throwing his arm behind him and balling his fists. “It’s Boltius! Boltius Beckman, as in his brother,” he jabbed a finger into Vulken’s arm, “As in not yours, so I’m not callin’ you that!” A heavy huff before he added, “And don’t you know not to touch people’s faces! Ma’ says the oils get into your skin and clog your skin holes!”

Boltius pointed at the girl’s hands, “And when’s the last time you washed’em!?”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: Boltius meets Kaede for the first time and gives her a lesson in manners and hygiene.

(Interacting w/ Kaede, Vulken)
(Mentioned Matsuda, Markus)

Sei Shonagon Sei Shonagon Nobody Special Nobody Special
 
Last edited:
Yuto Nishimura
SCENE:
Accidental Rumble
TIME:
September 17, 2021 | 5:45 pm | Post Arc 1
LOCATION:
North District, Underground Holding Cell
PARTICIPANTS:
Yuto, Sang-Cheol, Tri, Kaiga, Musai
Accidental Rumble
The first thing that came to Yuto's senses was cold. It was so cold. He could feel his fingertips shaking, an unpleasant sweaty chill upon his thin jacket clad back. The second, was that he was in pain. His limbs ached, and he couldn't tell if the previous agony from before had worsened, or dulled. It all became a big jumble in his brain. Yuto blinked open his three bleary eyes with a groan.

Where was he? Was he in some kind of... cage? He sprung up, quickly scrabbling onto his unsteady feet. No no no no no. He couldn't be- he couldn't be in a cage. He had to get out. Now. NOW. With a yell he threw himself onto the bars. Once he made contact however, he immediately sunk down, the impact helping none with his body. He was panting he could tell. Why couldn't he catch his breathe? Why couldn't he breathe?

A sob broke through his dried throat, a hot trail of tears streaking down his cheek. He clutched onto the bars, pulling weakly, though of course it made no difference. He couldn't get his fingers to stop shaking. Why was it so cold? He called out the only name he could remember, though he couldn't hear himself over his own pounding heart. "Sa.. Sang?..."

He huffed, hands clenching on the metal. Why did it suddenly get quite? Who was speaking? He couldn't make out anything, nor see over his blurry vision. Another sob broke through. But then the uproar started again, Yuto curling into himself to try and escape the sudden noise. Shut up shut up SHUT UP! AN anguished scream tore through his lungs.


 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
8 Dollar Jackpot
LOCATION:
Principality Coffee, outside New Oasis
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Sylvie
8 DOLLAR JACKPOT
Hiachi hadn’t expected to be caught off guard, so Sylvie’s claim about being in the same boat made her choke on her drink.

She set down the large cup and eyed the man, wholly unconvinced. He had a nice car, flashy clothes, and an expensive taste in rest stops. He was a common facet of Western wealth, a bold and flamboyant showcase of cash. Hiachi was the daughter of immigrants who stumbled her way into a gang by accident, and was so poor that finding money on the street was exciting again. They weren’t even in the same ocean

Maybe he meant the immigrant part. His accent was clearly Wrocesian. But him knowing that would be more concerning than anything.

Then again, he had taken the time to note that he didn’t look like he was in her boat. That could have meant anything—Sylvie and Hiachi looked like polar opposites.

“What do you mean?” Hiachi paused for a second before adding, “And why did you bring me… here?”

Hiachi hadn’t meant to sound rude, but it might have come off that way anyways. She felt the whole situation was off, somehow. She was waiting for the second Sylvie would finally reveal what he wanted from her. Hopefully he would understand her intent, because her blank stare and monotone weren’t doing her any favors.


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

A wave of pity washed over Hector as he looked down at the blood-stained girl, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic. They had done what they needed to do. She didn’t have to help him, he didn’t force her, did he? And he most certainly didn’t force her to give into the temptation of her hunger. He swung down at the corpse while she wept, claiming another head as prize for when they returned to HQ, picking up that and the other severed head by their hair.

“Hey. Hey, it’s alright.”

He looked to the end of the road. They’d need to go back to HQ. Could he trust her?

”Let’s get out of here. Can you stand?”

 
SCENE:
Blood Stained Girl
LOCATION:
Alleyway, South District
Time:
Pre-Arc 1 | ???
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Hector
Blood Stained Girl

The girl looked out at the outstretched hand. Would she really find salvation in taking that hand? No matter how she looked at it, she was a monster. A monster who feasted on her own species with glee.

Though what choice did she have? The girl took the hand of her now benefactor.

Despite the trauma, despite the blood, and despite everything that happened in the alleyways, the girl would look back fondly at this memory.

A time where a knight in steely armor came and saved her from her fear and hunger.


WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
HECTOR MOSES
CS Link
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
TIME:
Post Arc-3
LOCATION:
Kiki's Eatery, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Hitoshi, Ashley, Charlie, Gideon and Kaede
GET(TING) HELP

“I ain’t a kid, Kaede.” Hector smirked at the woman as she obliged his request, pulling out a lighter. At that point, a new face showed up, and Hector’s expression darkened. He watched as Charlie stumbled through his words, with a one-eyed stare that looked as though it could slice right through the Rookie. When he got through his greeting, Hector smiled thinly.

“Good to see you too, Charlie. Hope you’ve been well.”

When Hitoshi spoke with an offer of food, Hector shook his head but had a notably warmer expression when speaking with him. “I ain’t hungry. I’ll take a slice of toast or somethin’ like that,” he mumbled through his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth to speak properly, “Charlie’s right by the way, you’re looking really good. Proud of you.” The last part went back to mumbles as he leaned back.

A brief second passed, where the Queen looked at peace staring off into the distance. That moment ended when the wheelchair-bound villain rolled up. Hector didn’t say hello, he didn’t say anything. He just watched. This was his fault. He should have been there. And then maybe…

Hector blinked a few times in surprise when the collision occurred, flinching out of place as though he was about to help, but didn’t move more than that. He was thankful for Ashley showing up, though he too was a painful reminder of what had gone down. At least he could walk though.

“Holdin’ up as good as always.” Hector nodded at him. Everything is alright. “And yourself?”

As long as everyone else is alright.

 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Does This Have Gluten?
TIME:
Pre Arc 1, 2013
LOCATION:
Jiji's Convenience, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Yura Heo, Passeri Park
Does This Have Gluten?
Passeri's eyes fluttered in surprise. In her experience, this sort of place would've usually been staffed by some dusty aunt or uncle, not a man in the prime of his life.

Or maybe she was just stereotyping.

"Oh! Um. Sorry!" Passeri spoke through an apologetic smile, and backpedalled back into a more appropriate part of the store. "I got a bit ahead of myself! Have you ever seen those ads where nobody has a stroke but nobody finds them? I thought it might've been a situation like that." That, and her brain was still in a rush. She didn't want to be shooed off to another store because the owner had picked up the closed sign before she'd had a chance to browse.

"I didn't quite get to that part yet... My bad! I did have a quick peep on the way over to check on you, but I didn't recognize many of the brands." And among those she did recognise exactly none of them fit into her diet. "I'll be right back! Just let me try and find something."

She flitted back off into the store, brushing over the countless stacks of canned and packaged goods with a keen eye. Her eye hopped from one product to the next, scanning through nutritional information and calorie counts. A light ruckus took the store as she passed each of them over in her hands, inevitably returning each to their place with a mounting sense of concern. Her pace slowed as she worked her way through the store, inspecting ever more obscure jars of fermented vegetables and pickled meats, before she finally, hesitantly, took one of them in her hand and returned to the front counter.

"This'll have to do..." Passeri said with a sigh, placing a tiny jar of pickled fish on the counter. Her stomach burbled in protest, offended either by the peculiarity or minuscule size of the offering, but she paid it no heed. This hadn't been the only thing that could've met her needs, but the studio didn't have a kitchen, so she couldn't exactly buy anything that would've needed a heat source.

"So, what do I owe you?" She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small, weathered purse. "There wasn't any label, so I hope didn't grab something super expensive by mistake."

 
HECTOR MOSES
CS Link
SCENE:
Carry On My Wayward Son
TIME:
Nighttime, Post-Arc 3, June 25th 2022
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Christina, Hector, Milo
CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON

The decision didn’t seem to make much sense, but here Hector was, strolling down dark corridors. His disdain for jobs like these was known well amongst all who suffered his complaining. Boring, lifeless, a waste of his skills. It made less sense with what was happening around him. This was the Queen, and some might say he had a good claim for more in the absence of the King. There was no doubt that he had too much work to do, and it showed in the bags under his eyes, his teeth gritted with stress, and his growing irritability as the night began.

Stomp, stomp.

His boots clacked across the floor. His torch waved around till he was face to face with one of the paintings. He didn’t even linger on it. None of this mattered to him. Let it all get stolen, it wouldn’t come close to the value of all that he had lost. He shone the torch in front of him, getting a glimpse of some people, and he stopped.

That’s why he was here.

Something didn’t sit right with the way he found Charlie last month, beaten in the struggle that lost them their quarry. He felt something that made him clench his fists, almost shattering the shell of the flashlight. The sounds of his walking grew in volume, now with more purpose, towards the pair engaged in conversation.

He looked down at the seated Phoenixes.

”You tired or something, Temperer? Need a break?” Hector shook his head, almost seeming merely disappointed, if not for the forceful way his words came out, like he was fighting himself to control them. ”How are you doing, Torch?” Of course, he took on a different tone to speak with the new recruit. It was hard not to hear the frustration coming through, but it was clear he saw Christina positively. He was always keen to know the new members. ”Glad you’re in capable hands, Riot won’t steer you wrong. You been training with him?”

 
SYLVIE SLEZÁK
SCENE:
Reaching The Heavens From Hell
TIME:
Pre Arc-3
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Sylvie Slezák, Shishido Takakazu
Reaching The Heavens From Hell
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. He isn’t worth it.

Sylvie chose to ignore the taunts as he cooled down, wiping some sweat away from his forehead. Cool as a cucumber. There was nothing to worry about. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He could see the man at the cash desk, proud that he knew him well enough that they often held up the queue together just talking about their days. Should he be proud of that? Sure, why not. Maybe he'd infuriate Tak into leaving, he seemed impatient enough. He wasn’t there yet of course but the queue had progressed a lot, just a bit more of a wait.

Oh, there’s that voice behind him again.

This time Sylvie turned around, eyebrow raised. This time, he was all cheery, laughing at Tak’s defence. “Aha so now you ask me for help!” That didn’t answer the question though, and that was because Sylvie wasn’t sure about the answer. He had a tendency to be impulsive. Perhaps he should formulate his get-rich plans better. Right now, he was just going to wander around once he had his chips. “Maybe I will go to the roulette tables. You can see my great luck then.”

Then, Sylvie leaned forward toward the man with a scrutinous look. “How much money do you even have right now? You know I have a lot to spend, right? Think you can compete?”

 
SYLVIE SLEZÁK
SCENE:
8 Dollar Jackpot
LOCATION:
Principality Coffee, outside New Oasis
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3, April 16th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Sylvie, Hiachi
8 DOLLAR JACKPOT

“What I mean is,” he examined Hiachi, wondering if he had been tactless this entire time, feeling suddenly ashamed. He had been very excited when he heard her story, but perhaps that translated poorly in his actions. “I have not been a Tiger for a very long. 8 months? I did not join because I am rich. I did not have that luxury. It was not my choice.” He paused to drink some of his coffee and to let the statement sink in. He hardly discussed his situation with anyone, happy to keep the loans and debt coming, confident that he’d pay it all off while maintaining his lifestyle. He saw all the time how judgemental some were. All the wealth-based discrimination. Sylvie was guilty of it himself, but he kept playing along.

“When I came here- to New Oasis, I mean, I was in awe looking at the way things were in the West District. When I got a bit older, I thought that I could cheat my way to the top. It did work for a bit, but they got me eventually. I’ve still got my debts to pay off. I heard your story, Hiachi. Camila told me. We are the same, but this is not where you will live the rest of your life!”

Sylvie turned around in his seat, looking around. Nobody was interested. Sylvie had nothing interesting to say, but New Oasis taught him to always keep his guard up when it came to scheming. “There are too many eyes in West District, it is hard to do anything when we are both known to be ehh… Untrustworthy. They let me into the casinos but you? I would not risk it. But New Oasis is not the only city, and they haven’t caught up to us out here. I want to take advantage of that.” Though it may have seemed obvious what Sylvie was implying, he spoke more, “I want to bring us to the casinos out here. They won’t be able to stop us robbing them blind, and then we can work through our debts back home. We’re in this together, yes? I know what I'm doing here.”
 
Matsuda Russo
SCENE:
Coffee's On Me
TIME:
July 2019 | Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Tiger's HQ, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Matsuda, Isobel
Coffee's On Me
Matsuda sighed, smoothing back his wild hair from the afternoon breeze. Where was an unemployed young adult who's friends were all busy to hang out with him heading to? The Tiger's HQ. It hasn't been long since he joined. It felt like the past few weeks just breezed over his head. He felt like a newborn calf finding it's hooves in the middle of a sandstorm. Plus- things were particularly bad at home this morning. Matsu just wanted an escape- even if just for a bit.

He adjusted his mask and shoved his hands into his pockets, shouldering his way past the mass of bodies already entering the building. Fuck... why now. In Matsu's haste to leave he had been holding... some particular urges back. If his shuffling feet and squirmy body said anything. He really had to go! A shaky exhale left him as he finally made it through the doors. He staggered swiftly, looking a bit frantically for the nearest bathroom. Of course- he tried to be discreet, but he felt like a rush of water banging against a nearly overfilled dam. And no beavers nor humans would be quick enough to build it higher.

With a slight smile of relief, he found it. Rushing forward, he shoved himself past a man exiting, a small " 'scuse me, sorry." Leaving his lips. With a whimper, he shut himself in a stall, finally able to do what needed to be done. Damn his bladder.


 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Building Bridges
LOCATION:
December 12th, 2021 || Pre Arc 3
LOCATION:
West-South Bridge
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dante, Charlie, Milo, Yong-Yut, Jozef, Gideon, Corvo
BUILDING BRIDGES
Milo couldn't help but smile at Charlie's optimism. It was refreshing, if a little sad.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed, feeling a little better about their efforts. "Every little bit counts, and if we can help even just a little, it's worth it."

Milo smile faltered a little at Gideon's eagerness to hear his opinion on Hector. He paused for a moment, considering his words carefully, not liking the feeling that he was being led into some kind of trap.

"Hector's definitely... intense," Milo admitted with a chuckle. He took another bite of his hotdog to buy himself time to think.

"But he's also very... Passionate. I think that's something to admire, even if I don't always agree with his methods," Milo said thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplated his situation within the gang. He glanced over at Gideon, curious, and then back to Charlie. "As for the Phoenix life, it's been... an experience, to say the least," Milo said, skillfully dodging the topic. Milo had become very good at that, lately. Speaking without saying much of anything.

Milo took a deep breath. He felt like he'd been doing a lot of talking, and yet he could be saying more. Could be doing more. Maybe... Maybe now was the right time to begin?

He then quickly changed the subject, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything that would reveal too much, too soon. "How about you guys? How's life been treating you? Anything exciting happening?"


 
???
CS Link
SCENE:
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!
LOCATION:
Lower Central
TIME:
April 22nd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, YY, Corvo, Hiachi, Kanna, Dagger, Maria
INTERACTION:
N/A
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!

The scene opened with rampant thundering, not born of the skies from above but cultured by the ground below. Shoes of different brands and designs clamored against the ground in a massive huddle as people walked every which way along the designed patterns of red and gray cement bricks. Legs strolled past each other while others moved in the same direction, signifying some semblance of a unified objective. The current reason for the gathering remained a mystery, but only briefly as the view abruptly shifted to the dome-shaped roof of a building, its opaque glass blocking most of the sunlight from passing through, instead allowing it to glaze across its surface, forming a sheen.

The perspective slowly rose upwards and the view pointed itself down, passing the precipice of the ceiling to loom towards the earth below, showing an overhead view of the area surrounding the convention center, the abundance of people before was still ever prominent, but what brought them all together was immediately evident.

Some stood on top of podiums, large signs plastered adjacent with epochal brand names, showcasing their new models or adjustments. Some sat behind an intricately placed velvet rope, while others were sealed behind acrylic screens. Others were much more artless, hastily leaning against whatever could support them, decals and stickers across their body paired with signs of use or damage contrasted their contemporaries, but at the end of the day, they were all the same thing.

Motorcycles, motorbikes, motorized scooters, and mopeds, as far as the eye could see, had entirely invaded the surroundings and had staked their claim, gaining the vested interest of the populace as they crowded around bikes, indulging in the lifestyle of motorism no matter what their history of relationship with the love of cycles may be.

A large placard draped above the massive doors to the dome-shaped convention center, ropes wired through its four corners to stretch it taught and tie it to the supports, only allowing it to rustle slightly in the wind, the event’s title proudly displayed.

gradient-zoom-effect-red-background_23-2149762306.png


A competition that doubled as a showcase that brought motorist aficionados and hobbyists alike.


“Man, there’s more than double the people here last time….”
“Don’t be surprised, after what happened in the last competition, no surprise that there are so many people, plus the reward is even more than last time.”

Distinct voices broke out from the amalgamation of chatter embedded in the area, the focus plastering itself on two men who walked through an empty gap within the crowds, paying no mind to the numerous exhibits of modern motor technology nor their gawkers as they strolled forward.

Their attire immediately differentiated them; they bore distinctive colors of blue up to their checkered-banded hats, which were tilted down just enough to cast shadows covering the upper half of their faces. They held the aura of law authority but lacked the badges or equipment. Instead, they had identification on their chests and walkie-talkies on the belts around their waists.

They were virtually identical, disregarding the slight difference in skin tone and height, not counting the small white flower pin the taller one had pinned into their chest pocket.

“The last competition was canned, right? So I guess all that leftover money had to go somewhere,” The shorter, more carefree guard commented, talking to his partner without directly looking at him.

The other guard raised a hand to place his fingers on the bill of his cap, frowning slightly. “It wasn’t ‘canned.’ It had to be canceled because of the absurd amount of cheating and sabotage. It was the first time they offered cash, and people went crazy,” he explained, dropping his hand back down to his side.

“So that’s why security is so much tighter this year…guess the guys runnin’ this thing don’t want a repeat. Especially now that a bunch of big brands is involved this year,” The other guard put the pieces together, crossing his arms, “I haven’t seen anyone really try anything yet.”

“Don’t get relaxed yet, idiot. We have to be on guard,” The evidently more experienced guard cautioned, looking downwards as his tone dropped from casual speaking to genuine concern.

“Once those three show up, things are bound to get out of hand….”

As the ominous comment stuck in the air, the shape of the crowd began to shift, leaving the viewer behind as the security personnel was swallowed whole by the abundance of bodies disappearing from view.

It seemed that this was only the calm before the storm.








Takakazu Shishido
CS Link
SCENE:
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!
LOCATION:
Lower Central
TIME:
April 22nd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, YY, Corvo, Hiachi, Kanna, Dagger, Maria
INTERACTION:
Anyone within earshot.
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!

Last night was an entirely average, standard, utterly ordinary night. As always, the moon had risen to the sky, the stars were in their usual space within the galaxy, and drunkards on the street who lacked self-control still riddled the neighborhood.

Look, there’s one! Vomiting his guts on the rusted metal steps installed as part of the dilapidated apartment complex!

The hodgepodge of half-eaten food and stomach acid exited his mouth as a jumble of pixels seeping through the metal grates, using his arm as a support against the railing to keep himself from tumbling over.

He slowly rocked to the side, returning to the normalcy of having his body supported by his own legs as he raised a black sleeve up to his mouth and wiped it with his black sleeve, getting rid of the trail of bile that hung to the corner of his lips.

His dull-bronze skin was paler than usual, pupilless eyes unfocused on the world, eyes sunken, half-dead. His body moved in a similar manner of expression, laboriously raising a foot to trudge up the steps, the worn metal creaking and buckling under his weight as he moved upward.

Sparing the time of watching him struggle to his door, the landscape relocated to the interior of his apartment, the abundance of clutter barely visible in the darkness, from the clothes that littered the floor to the empty bottles and torn snack bags. The click of a lock echoed through the vacant scenery as the door cracked open, knocking away some of the trash on the ground as it opened, leaking in the moonlight and casting the man’s shadow.

Stepping in and closing the door behind him, he twisted the lock shut, walking away without even bothering to touch the nearby light switch, having no fears or reservations about the darkness of his apartment. He maneuvered through it without hesitation despite the lack of visibility, kicking away a stray can as he finally stood in front of the sofa ahead of his cheap TV. He let his weight give out, slumping back to fall into it, allowing the cracking leather to cushion his fall.

He leaned his head back over the rest, his messy hair flopping backward as he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as the buzz he felt had long since gone from unfortunate. He just wanted to sleep it off and didn’t feel like getting back up from the couch.

Propping his head back up, he leaned forward to grab the remote off the small table in front of him, clicking the TV on as the screen burst to life with color, starting directly into the late-night news.

Perfect for white noise, Tak dropped the remote back down and rested on his back again, closing his eyes as he let the inane ramblings and speeches of the newscasters lull him to sleep.

“There’s only one more day until the Bi-Annual Motor Competition comes around again, and I’ve heard many people preparing for it!”

“That’s right Amil; motorcyclists and enthusiasts alike have been incredibly active in preparing for this. I’ve heard lots of happy mechanics about all the extra business they’re getting.”

“I’m not surprised it’s causing such a stir; after all, the prize for the competition winner is 5,000 amestriyen!”

The sounds of breaking glass accompanied Tak’s eyes shooting open, bright red veins branching through the whites of his eyes in an interconnecting network.


ezgif.com-gif-maker_1.gif

Tak’s invigorated shout brought the time abruptly to the present, his mouth wide open as his incisors were on full display, the crazed look in his eyes paired with the visible creases around his upper mouth and nose.

Despite his mighty shout, as the view panned outward, it revealed him sitting on top of the messed up heap he called transportation, the motorized scooter’s chipped silver paint and rusted metal, along with the various other signs of deterioration on full display. Of course, he had on his scooter helmet with its racing stripe on his head, making him look all the more ridiculous.

The surrounding populace paid him no mind, continuing to chatter on as they walked past them and went on about their business, as he continued to sit there as if he was waiting for a response. The only person who gave him any mind was a kid dragged along by his mother, who pointed at him like an animal at the zoo before getting pulled off-screen.

Only a second later, one of the mirrors on the scooter fell off, breaking into pieces on the ground.

A deep shadow covered Tak’s face, hiding his expression in the darkness as he was forced to witness how little of a chance he had of even getting a runner-up prize…

Yet, as the light returned to his expression, he wore a confident grin, looking to the side with casual coolness.

“Heh, I got this in the bag.”

Promptly a red arrow appeared under him, explaining his insanity.
red-down-arrow_f_1.png






Finn Dorsal (NPC)
CS Link
SCENE:
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!
LOCATION:
Lower Central
TIME:
April 22nd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, YY, Corvo, Hiachi, Kanna, Dagger, Maria
INTERACTION:
Hiachi
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!

Walking amongst the abundant congregations of passersby and spectators, a woman with white hair that trailed down her back stuck out among the faceless crowd. Her long bangs draped down over the half of her face, obscuring it, while the sunglasses she wore under it hid her one visible eye.

Her bright red jacket hung loosely past her shoulders as she sashayed along with her hands on her hips, a bright smile on her face as she hummed to herself, every so often looking around at the various vehicles on display.

“They got a couple more exotic brands on display this year, too. I guess the news really traveled around after the last travesty,” the woman spoke of the chaotic events of two years ago, the slight smirk on her face showcasing that she was more fond of the chaos it caused than most others.

“Hmm! I wonder if something like that will happen again this year, I sure hope so…” She trailed off, finally pacing to a stop as she turned on her heel, reaching a hand up to slide up her sunglasses to her forehead, revealing the cherry glint in her crimson red eyes.

“It would be great for business!”

Right before her was a large gazebo tent, shaded from the sunlight. Despite how hastily put together it looked, the insides were much different. Numerous tool drawers lined the sides, replacement bike parts were sorted into separate piles, and groupings were labeled in established boxes and cabinets. Surrounding the tent and mingling amongst each other were various men and women, all wearing similar outfits of button-up jumpsuits stained with numerous oil splotches and other miscellaneous stains.

Some others had already gone to work inside the tent working with customers, kneeling down to examine bikes or putting wrenches to the engine; among the numerous amenities of the show, this place was certainly an outlier, a pop-up mechanic shop.

“Everything running smoothly, yuppies?” The woman asked, immediately gaining the attention of all the workers, who immediately stopped what they were doing to give a wordless thumbs up, clearly well-trained.

“Good! Looks like we’ll make a nice haul tonight!” She exclaimed, excitedly raising her arm like a giddy schoolgirl imagining the revenue stream. But, while she could hide it well, she ultimately was a money-lover, just like most of her colleagues in her line of work.

“Now, where is my assistant? I wanna get started on tuning up my bike right away!” She chirped, placing her hands behind her back with a smile.

Upon hearing that question, all of her mechanic team stopped what they were doing once more, but compared to the affirmative response they gave, instead, they all began to sweat slightly, looking nervous as they went silent.

Picking up on this, the woman blinked, leaning forward and scanning their expressions, “Huh? What is it? Something the matter?” She questioned, tilting her head, still wearing a smile.

“Well, the thing is, Ms. Dorsal….” One of the mechanics spoke, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“She hasn’t shown up yet…,” he laughed nervously.

“That’s not funny,” Dorsal shot back at the man’s attempt to alleviate the tension, still beaming as she turned her head towards him.

Immediately, the mechanic stiffened, raising his hands defensively, “Y-Yes! It’s not funny, ma’am! Sorry about that!”

Dorsal quickly raised her hand and gave a dismissive wave, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” she assured him, straightening back up her posture and putting her hands on her hips as she opened her eyes again, putting on a more neutral simper.

“Hmm, well, I hope she hurries up. I’d hate to have to punish her….” Dorsal wondered; her light-hearted tone made her sound innocent, but the concept of punishment immediately made some of her mechanics audibly swallow, turning away to go back to what they were doing as if to avoid looking at her.

Despite her having not done anything, the anxiety was palpable among her workers, something that was only possible by being around long enough to instill an expectation of consequences. Almost a rite of passage for those who’ve lived long enough to survive in a gang.

And Finn Dorsal was no different.



gxxberkit gxxberkit miki miki AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa simj26 simj26 FabulousTrash FabulousTrash Shoya Shoya
 
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Musai
SCENE:
Dine Death
LOCATION:
Shopping Mall, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Dine Death

Musai was gauging down any and all the food he could shovel in his mouth "Raq....If your plan is to get me to fall in love with you.... It's working!" Musai responded between bites of food. With the way he was eating, anyone would swear he hadn't eaten in weeks but for Musai, it was free food and he'd be damn if let it go to waste. Who knows when he'll ever be treated like this again. "That's one odd-ass name our target has. She must be foreign as hell. Probably coming from one of those countries that don't exist, or no one's heard about. With a name like that, you can definitely tell she was one of the popular kids back in school" Musai shovels another load of food into his mouth. "But thunderstorms, you say? That's a pretty powerful potential there. If it's just the two of us jumping her, then she either must not be all that skilled with it or her potential isn't as useful indoors than it is outdoors. Either way, consider her good as cooked." Musai smirks and chuckles darkly.

"And as for the water." Musai looks at his cup of water "Huh. I haven't actually tried the water...Is something wrong with it?" Musai picks up the cup and looks into it. The water looks normal for the most part. No odd decolorization or anything of the ordinary. Musai then takes sniff of the water and it didn't smell odd either. Now for the final taste: The Taste Test. Musai tips the cup to his mouth and takes a sip, and almost immediately, Musai spits the water out back into the cup "OoOoOoH G-o-O-o-D...! OoOoOoH! OoOoOoH! What was thaa-a-a-a-a-t?! What even was tha-a-a-a-at? Am I poisoned? Please don't tell me I'm poisoned!" Musai begins to cough furiously while clutching his chest.

Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Learning your stripes.


Lorette Lècuyer CS LINK

Scene: Tigers B-side. Learning your stripes.

Time: April 10th, 10:00 AM.

Location: West District. The Silver Spoon.

Participants: Lorette,Hiachi.[/fon
t]


The more that she spoke, the farther into herself Hiachi drew. She kept her eyes downcast and stared at her half-eaten breakfast as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. The girl seemed quite averse to talking, especially about herself.

Shyness was not an emotion that Lorette was familiar with. There were few times in her life that she'd been too bashful to talk. And there hadn't been a single moment in which she didn't want to talk about herself.

Lorette practically had to strain her ears just to hear over the constant chatter of the restaurant's other patrons in the background. Hiachi recanted the tale of her capture in subdued murmurs. It was the very same one that had trickled on down the grapevine and into Lorette's ears. How was Hiachi that much more different than the countless other fools that'd found themselves caught in the crosshairs? Not much, by the girl's own admission.

In all fairness, Lorette felt the same way. Such a small and mousy woman had little to offer the Albino Tigers. But that could change. Hiachi may not have seen it, but she had more to offer. Those were depths that Lorette hoped to plumb and ultimately profit from. But to do so, she'd have to get the younger woman into the right mindset. Something easier said than done. Hiachi had already signed her life away in service to the Albino Tigers. For such a timid person, Hiachi was quite world-weary. A sheltered nature and street smarts did not go hand and hand.

"A timid thief isn't something I've ever seen before. The kind of people that can clean out a Casino tend to be pretty insufferable."

Lorette set aside her empty mug and laced her fingers together on the table's surface. She regarded Hiachi silently, much in the way that a prospective buyer would inspect a new car.

"You are weak." It was a statement stated so plainly, that coming from Lorette's own mouth, it sounded like an undeniable fact.

"You are weak, and you clearly don't like it. Fortunately for you, I happen to dislike seeing a good thing squandered. I may be able to help you shape your Potential into something worthwhile."

Lorette paused and lifted a hand to point a single, well-manicured finger at Hiachi.

"But that is something that you have to want. I'm not going to have my time wasted. Think hard, and know there is no shame in walking away now. You can let me help you, and soon you'll be doing the kinds of jobs that'll knock serious numbers off of your debt. Otherwise, you can go back to doing magic tricks on the street corner for spare change."


miki miki
 
Dagger
SCENE:
Fell And Cruel Hounds
LOCATION:
Actaeon's Rest
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, ???, ???, ???, ???, ???
Fell and Cruel Hounds

She didn’t think of it as a defensive structure, there were probably better places to do this. Three floors, going upwards, with the first floor consisting of a large living room, if one could call it that, with a kitchen and several rooms of its own. The second floor consisted of a secondary living space, consisting of more rooms, a gym and even a jacuzzi, with the third one being the rooftop of Actaeon’s Rest, consisting of what could only be considered an Olympic-sized pool. It was an image of opulence, and didn’t exactly scream ‘defensible’.

Still, it was the best place she could get. Once they came in here, there was no escape, and there was only one route here. The stairs only led to the floor two stories down. Anyone who intended to enter had to take the elevator, and they had to take the front door.

She leaned against the ceiling-to-floor window, looking over the reddening sight of New Oasis. The lights were coming on in the streets and the buildings. The sun was setting into the web of buildings.. Even atop this tower of extravagance that only someone like Park could afford to rent out the top three floors of, it was not enough to avoid watching the excess of suffocating corruption of New Oasis drown out the sun in its darkness.

A man with a ragged beard, eyes hollow from the experiences of his life, and clothing that matched his tattered disposition shuffled up to her. “All done,” he muttered under his breath, as if he was afraid that someone might hear him.

She reached down, picking up the black, plain briefcase next to her, and handed it to him. “Enough for all of you to get by.” She indicated the door. “They’re on the way. Go.”

The man nodded, bowing slightly, before waving to the rest of his group, each of them as shabby and frayed as he was. Dagger gave them a salute, a motion that they returned before they disappeared through the doorway. Like rats and ghosts, they had come and gone in a blink of an eye.

What they had carried with them now lined the walls of the expansive penthouse of Actaeon’s Rest: enough firearms to supply a small squad with just as much ammunition. She had thought of doing this alone, but when she approached Park to lend her some help in acquiring the venue, her advice was explicitly to NOT throwing herself at a suicidal amount of forces.

So here she was, now staring at the handful of people in front of her who had responded to a call for assistance, for a price. Mercenaries, each probably hailing from some gang or another. Or not. She didn’t care. She had no wish to learn their names either. They were here for the money, and that was all she cared about.

Looking at them, she had no idea what to say to them. Orders, she could give, but speeches? Those were usually her father’s forte. She cleared her throat. Orders it was, then.

“From now on, none of you are permitted to use your names. Use whatever aliases you want, but keep it simple.” She paused, searching her head for something else to say. “For the time being, take a rest. Do whatever you want.”

With that curt announcement, she strode off towards Park, not bothering to speak to the rest of them. She was more concerned about this one. The rest signed up on this for blood and money. Park was the only one who remained for reasons that she couldn't understand. “Are you sure you want to stay?” she asked in hushed tones. “I’m not comfortable with putting you in danger.”



The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters- AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa ATurei ATurei QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Seaquill Seaquill
 
Meirin Azuza
SCENE:
Spicy Juice
LOCATION:
Eternal Night Palace (Pleasure District), East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Yushui, Peyton, Meirin, Hanji, whoever else wants to join
Spicy Juice


“Oho~Who knew the Holy Sword was such a gentleman?” Meirin quipped playfully. Amber eyes that had been studying the jade and pearl earring curiously while she waited for the drinks to be made, turned mirthfully towards the ghoulish figure sitting forward in his stool. Not that ‘ghoulish’ was the right word. Tall, pale, and imposing maybe, but the stiff-looking Dragon had his own charms. At the very least, she didn’t think him to be the sort to sour a girl’s (or guy’s) night. “But you know–,”

63397.jpg
“Some of us might be hurt to hear you say that,” A soft, transparent stole draped lightly over Hanji’s shoulders from behind as a voice whispered in his ear . “Eros is especially prideful as our current #1.”

“Violet!”


The brothel worker/escort that leaned over Hanji’s shoulder winked at Meirin. “Just greeting the VIPs, Boss.”

Shaking her head at the former thief’s audacity, Meirin asked. “Weren’t you with Lotus and the other girls?”

“I was until the Yue fanclub started fangirling.”
Violet made a gagging sound before gracefully pulling the long fabric back over her own shoulders like an evening shawl, the delicate material brushing against pale skin like a feather as she did so. “So I figured I’d get back to work. Take the stage or something since I don’t have any clients for today.” Violet gave Hanji one final suggestive smile before sashaying her way to one of the stages to show off her flexibility.

Her entrancing movements stole the eyes of many of the night's patrons.

Meirin coughed. “Anyway, I meant to say that most of the workers here know what they are getting into–and want to get paid–so you’re more likely to brighten an escort’s night than sour it. You don’t have to request them for sex either.” The Holy Sword hid it well, but Meirin had a discerning eye for discomfort in that regard. She wouldn’t touch anyone who didn’t like to be touched. The prices for sexual favors skyrocketed depending on the escort’s rank and preferences anyway. Eros set his own price. Jackson, being a Dragon and a volunteer, did too. “Violet here is often called for her fortune-telling talents, Daisy gives excellent massages, Kokoro plays the koto, and ummmm…” Unable to think of any more of her friends to advertise on the spot, Meirin shrugged. The details were all in the book. “So yeah, a handsome guy like you shouldn’t worry about a thing like that when walking into a place like this~They’re professionals and their job is to make you feel good…” ‘Treated like a king’ was the theme of Eternal Night Palace. It was what drew clients into the Dragon establishment - the Palace of Eternal Night. It was also what customers, that lacked a sense of decency, tried to abuse all the time from what she’d seen–especially if they possessed a lot of money. It was a problem that existed back when the Night Lord ran the business and continued to exist to this day…though, now, Meirin and her sister were in a position to change things. Now secret cameras existed in all the rooms where such activities once took place behind closed doors. “Provided you treat them with respect, that is. So long as you treat the escorts here like people and not objects, like you already seem to do Mr. Han-Han, won’t hear anything from me~ And, since you're already here, you might as well relax and enjoy yourself. Try something new for once~

Whether by eating, drinking, physical contract, or even listening to music, all people obtained pleasure differently and Eternal Night Palace catered to all kinds. It was actually her sister that told her not to be too pushy when trying to seduce - not that Mei ever really listened. Patience was never her strong suit, her fingers drumming in anticipation as she watched Pei mix the drinks. The Nectar Fuegos. She wasn't really trying to seduce any of the Dragons anyway.

Meirin glanced at Yushui. “Isn’t it the same in the Jade Temple?”


@Coyote Hart @The Crimson King Seaquill Seaquill
 
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Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
Accidental Rumble
LOCATION:
North District, Underground Battleground
TIME:
Pre Arc-2 | September 17th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Yuto, Sang-Cheol, Tri
Accidental Rumble

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap.

Sang-Cheol heard footsteps coming from behind him. "Who the fuck are you?" Letting out a curse, Sang-Cheol glared at the newcomer. That newcomer was a woman and very much taller than me and bustling with muscle. If Sang-Cheol wasn't an HP, he was sure that people would think that this woman would snap him like a twig. That and Sang-Cheol was sure that she was more ogre than human.

"The fuck, should I care, pipsqueak?" The woman retorted in a gravelly voice. Without warning, the woman threw a fist out. Sang-Cheol moved to roll out of the way but-

"UGH!" The fist seemingly turned and still hit him. It sent him skidding against the floor and nearly brushing against the steel fence. "Motherfucker." Was that her potential? Redirecting her attacks to make them more accurate? What a shitty ability. Getting back onto his feet, he tightened his fists.

The woman was once again assailing him, but Sang-Cheol was just more prepared this time around. Weaving around her fist, he decided counterattacked with a jab to her rib cage. Though that didn't happen; instead, it seemingly swerved around her as if the space between them had been distorted. Sang-Cheol's surprise was slowly overshadowed by the fact the woman was striking him again.

Raising his arms up to defend, he was quickly sent flying. Crashing against the walls of the cage, he slowly got up and glared at the woman. His blood was rushing. He was so going to kill Yuto later for this.
 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
Dine Death
LOCATION:
Shopping Mall, East District
Time:
Post-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Musai
Dine Death

"I'm glad you enjoy the food, Musai." Raquel only smiled as Musai drank the poor-quality water. "You're possibly correct. Perhaps she's popular, though." Leaning closer, she had a sadistic grin come up on her face. "She's a nobody at the end of the day." Raquel wondered what the lady would taste like. Sweet? Savory? Perhaps a little spicy on the inside? It made her want to drool, but she had a gentleman in front of her, so Raquel wanted to act like a proper lady in front of him.

Sliding a soda over to his side of the table, she leaned again. For being a district known for its wealth and business, this place surely had shitty water. Was the plumbing that bad, or was the water that poor? Maybe the poor water was some sort of business scheme to persuade patrons to buy sodas to increase their bills. If that was the case, it was surely a scummy, yet smart, business move. Either at least the water was better than North Districts, admittedly.

"Though I doubt she'll be alone. You know how tigers are. They like to flaunt their wealth extravagantly." She expected their target would have a few bodyguards following her around. It would make their job a tad bit more tedious, but it was more food for Raquel to dine on. It was also partly the reason why she was giving Musai a treat. She didn't want to share the meat with him.

Looking at the watch, she smirked. "Looks like it's almost time. Do you think you can finish up the rest in under a minute?" Standing up from her seat, she glanced at the plates that were left untouched or completely empty. Hopefully, Musai had his fill because Raquel wasn't going to spare seconds for him.


Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters-
 
SHEN YUE
SCENE:
Clouds at the Summit
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, March 21st, 2017
LOCATION:
Millennium Hall, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Bae Family (NPCs), Shen, Others?
CLOUDS AT THE SUMMIT
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched across the open arena, the ceremony marking the gathering of the High Families reached its conclusion. Delegates and dignitaries alike rose from their seats, their silken robes and intricate attire forming a dazzling tapestry, resplendent with vibrant hues and artful embroidery.

Moonshadow Sanctuary. It was here that the High Families had gathered to observe the performances of their chosen delegates, their banners proudly unfurled in the springtime breeze. Carved wooden pillars, intertwined with sinuous dragons, supported the delicate lattice of the awning, allowing waning rays of dappled sunlight to filter through and cast intricate shadows upon those once seated beneath.

In the heart of the arena, the stage where the performances unfolded spanned an expansive clearing of packed earth. Surrounded by meticulously manicured gardens and the soft rustling of bamboo groves, the refuge among the clouds embodied both the High Family ideals of harmony and communion with nature and the nobility of human artistry. As the delegates exited through a grand archway flanked by stone guardian beasts, the once-bustling arena grew silent, leaving only the whispers of the wind and the distant murmur of a nearby stream as witnesses to the day's display of skill, ambition, and the ever-shifting balance of power.

In the wake of the ceremony, Shen stood at the crossroads of admiration and disquietude.

Through the praise and attention, Shen could ignore the undercurrents beneath the surface, or the flicker of worry that occasionally clouded his Uncle Faa's countenance. However, there was something that he could not ignore. Touched by a mysterious sense of sympathy, Shen's curiosity was ignited, compelling him to know more about the young man who had stumbled so painfully during his performance.

As the revelry faded and the clans dispersed like autumn leaves carried away by the wind, Shen sought Hifumi's company. Approaching the young man, his grin cast away the lingering shadow slike the first rays of dawn.

"Hey!" Shen spoke abruptly, patting Hifumi heartily on the back like a reassuring breeze. Or perhaps a tempest.

"Don't fret about what happened out there. We all have our off days, much like the ever-changing seasons. Besides, I was serious – I would be very much honored to learn some of your techniques!"

 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Unlikely Encounter
TIME:
Post Arc 1/Pre Arc 2 — Sometime After September 17th, 2021
LOCATION:
Geronimos, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael, August
UNLIKELY ENCOUNTER
Raph could feel the beating of his own heart, wild and untamed, as he dangled his words like bait before August. He had come so close—so dangerously close—that he could almost taste the other man's uncertainty. The air between them was thick and heavy, charged with a tension that coiled around them both like the body of a great, undulating serpent, tightening its grip.

It was... Intoxicating.

The laughter that had filled the car earlier seemed a distant memory now, as Raph let himself become lost in the moment, in the pull of this strange new connection burgeoning between them. The pounding of August's heart echoed in his ears like the beating of a drum, so loud it threatened to drown out everything else. It was a sweet, sweet sound to him, a siren's song that he couldn't resist. He leaned in.

And then August spoke. His voice was shaky, and he seemed to struggle to form the words. It was as if the weight of the moment had stolen his breath away. Raph felt a thrill shoot through him at the realization that he had that power, that he could render someone so utterly breathless.

But the words that finally spilled from August's lips were not what Raph had expected. They were a cold, sobering splash of reality.

“You’re drunk… mate.”

Raph's heart clenched, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath him. The haze that had clouded his mind began to dissipate, leaving behind a cold, stark emptiness. He blinked, and the fragile illusion shattered. Suddenly, Raph was all too aware of the dangerous game he'd been playing, of the reckless dance he'd led them both through.

Raph's shoulders fell, and his body seemed to fold in on itself like a marionette with suddenly severed strings. The world he had dared to build from his words shattered, and all that remained was the cold steel of rejection. Gracelessly, he slumped back into the passenger's side seat, his eyes losing the spark that had danced within them moments ago. The night air rushed in through the open window, chilling his skin, but it did nothing to soothe the sudden ache that blossomed within his chest.

For the moment, he was ashamed. But Raph Shaw did not wear shame well, and he refused to let it linger. He could feel his defenses rising, the walls he'd built so carefully over the years snapping back into place. He scoffed, a bitter, hollow laugh escaping him as he drew back from August.

"We should get you a bed," August continued, his voice more steady now, though Raph thought he could still sense the tremor beneath it. He couldn't help but wonder if August was as affected by their encounter as he was, or if it was merely the aftereffects of a momentary lapse in judgment.

He studied the other man for a moment, trying to read his thoughts, to understand what had just happened between them. But he found only a guarded expression, a mask that betrayed nothing. And so, Raph turned his gaze to the road ahead, the cold, unfeeling asphalt that stretched on into the night, leading them both further away from the dangerous precipice they had so narrowly skirted.

"Fine," Raph muttered at last, his voice low and thick with a dangerous cocktail of emotions he couldn't quite name. "Take me wherever you want, darling. After all, I'm at your mercy, aren't I?"

He leaned back in his seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred by. The words echoed in his mind.

Raphael Shaw was not a man easily tamed. He was a serpent, a creature of darkness and cunning, slithering his way through life with only his own desires to guide him. And yet, for the briefest of moments, he had allowed himself to be caught in the web of another's gaze, to be held captive by the beating of another's heart.

As the car sped through the night, Raph couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever truly be free.



 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
A Pleasure To (Not) Meet You
LOCATION:
Pre-Arc 3 |
LOCATION:
Raquel's Warehouse, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Milo
A PLEASURE TO (NOT) MEET YOU
Milo couldn't help but think that Raquel was like a really bad episode of a supernatural sitcom. One moment she was a judgmental monster, and the next, she was the overly friendly neighbor offering tea like she'd just come from a knitting circle.

But that didn't change what she was. That didn't change what Milo knew.

In fact, all she had to do was look at him and Milo felt a chill run down his spine, like someone had just tap-danced on his grave. These were dark, dangerous waters. If it was to be sink or swim, he'd swim.

Milo glanced one last time at the teacup, with all the enthusiasm of a man contemplating a root canal. Then, with a sigh that screamed I can't believe I'm doing this, he sat down. "Sure thing, sis," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

She wanted to get to know him? Yeah, sure. More than likely she was just trying to dig up dirt to throw back in his face. But if she wanted to play games, then he'd show her all his moves.

Milo, his hand wrapped around the teacup like he was trying to strangle it, replied with a practiced nonchalance. "Well, you know, I was just wandering aimlessly through life, looking for a place to fit in, and I guess I just got lucky that the Phoenixes took me in. All the murdering's just icing on the cake."

As he weaved his yarn of B.S., Milo watched her every move, trying to glean some insight into her motives. It was like trying to decipher a foreign language written in invisible ink.

He took a sip of the tea, fully prepared to gag at the taste, but it was surprisingly... not terrible. He looked at Raquel, suspicion growing.

 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Why Not?
TIME:
Post Arc-1 | September 25th 2021
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael, Sang-Cheol
WHY NOT
Raph sometimes found pleasure in the simplest of things. Like imagining Sang-Cheol as a pitiful, dilapidated automaton, shuffling about in its confined dungeon, guided by deteriorating programming. The thought of it made him laugh.

Raphael's laughter was a twisted sound, like a broken music box. "Oh, I must say, I do enjoy our little... Sessions," he said, the mirth in his voice dry and venomous as he extended his arm for Sang-Cheol. He could see the beads of sweat on the other's face, and it brought him a perverse sense of satisfaction. "Though... Do at leat try not to prick yourself again. I know it's what you're into and all, but, still! It's hardly sanitary, darling."

As Sang-Cheol gingerly inserted the needle, Raph clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on the table. "Such a delicate touch," he murmured, almost purring. "I'm quite surprised you managed to prick yourself at all."

"And as for your hands," Raph said, his voice low and sardonic, "I can assure you that they're completely unremarkable." He tilted his head to one side, studying Sang-Cheol with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Don't worry, darling. I'm sure they're perfectly adequate for... Whatever it is you do with them." He didn't want to know.

With a final flourish, Raph waved his free hand in the air. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get this over with. I'm sure you're very busy with your..." It became apparent to him that he had no idea what Sang-Cheol did, outside of these little "check-ups" for him. And what was more, he didn't particularly care. Raph let the sentence fall flat on its face. He imagined it as Sang-Cheol and he laughed.

 
Ezra Knight
SCENE:
Making Amends
LOCATION:
Post Arc 2: Antique Shop, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Isobel
MAKING AMENDS
Ezra looked at Isobel with a puzzled expression, wondering what she could have been referring to. The confusion was brief, as realization slowly set in once he thought back to what he'd been doing. He'd been singing out loud.

A light rose dusted his cheeks as he turned away from the Jack, trying to hide his embarrassment behind messy, coffee-colored bangs. "Ah, I-I guess..." He wasn't really sure how to respond to that.

Thankfully, Isobel was quick to move on, putting Ezra's little slip behind them. The movements of her hand drew in the man's gaze, and the red in his cheeks faded as he "listened" to her. The unexpectedly serious topic was enough to make him completely forget about everything else.

At that moment, Ezra was disarmed by an unanticipated sense of understanding and similarity. He had the opportunity to learn things about Isobel during the month they spent preparing for their mission, but it wasn't until she mentioned her feelings about the Tigers that he felt like he had gotten a peek underneath the outer layers. Maybe it was because he didn't expect to hear something like that from someone in her position. Her status and the emotions they evoked seemed inconsequential as Ezra got a better look at the person who carried it all.

As Isobel turned away to deal with the shopkeeper, Ezra's expression shifted. His lips curved slightly, allowing a wry, self-mocking smile to settle on his face. Reasons...

The change didn't last very long, quickly wiped away when Isobel turned back and shoved the record player into his hands. His first thought was that she was asking him to carry it for her, but the following series of signs forced him to throw out that idea pretty quickly. It was for him then?

He looked at the player and then at her. He repeated that motion a few times, allowing it all to sink in. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd been given something that didn't have to do with Tiger business, so his search for a proper response was rather slow. Because of that, the words that suddenly came to mind began to leak out from his loose lips.

"Reasons..." His mind took him back to Isobel's earlier suggestion, unable to shake it off. "I don't have anything like that. No choices either."

The image of a familiar, steely gaze overtook any and all thoughts he had. Eyes as cold and dull as metal. Eyes he could never defy or look directly at. Eyes that reflected the sight of just another piece on the board.

He struggled to think of a single consequential decision he'd ever made on his own. He had lived his entire life according to someone else's will, never his own. Well, it wasn't as if he ever actually had a will of his own.

"Never have." It seemed as though he and the Jack were alike in that regard. Neither of them had a say. And he was already tired. He had been for a long, long time.

Silence followed for a moment, soon broken when Ezra realized that his response may have come a little too late. And out of nowhere. He completely forgot about the record player for a second there.

Clutching the antique, he dipped his head a bit as he offered her his gratitude. "Oh, uh, sorry. Thank you. I'll be sure to pay you back." It'd take a while though. He spent all of his cash on the bus ticket.


Saturn_moon Saturn_moon
 

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