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

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

http://

CS Link

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

"...Sabrina Felton. Right?" Without a word, Sang-Cheol opened a door for her to pass by. When she did, Sang-Cheol closed the door behind him and led her to the room where they would perform the blood withdrawal. Numerous workers passed by or loitered around the halls. He saw Rebecca talking with Gerda. Aristotle was trying to have a couple of workers listen to him. The fact that he hadn't snapped at them to get back to work was the reason why everything was lax.

Entering inside a room, he gestured for Sabrina to take a seat before heading off to the side. Sabrina's file lay on the counter. Sang-Cheol's eyes furrowed in deep thought. He was supposed to make the withdrawal, right? Or was it a checkup? All he knew was that he wanted to acquire a sample of her blood. After all, if he could find some sort of similarity between her blood and Raphael's, he might have a breakthrough in his research.

Opening the file, Sang-Cheol spoke up. "Ms. Felton... You're diagnosed with... being a musician?" Musician? Wasn't that an occupation? Though Sang-Cheol's sleep-deprived mind spiraled down that thought process. Was it a new type of disease? Does it make people become musically talented? The more he thought about it, the more he started to believe in it. "How devastating," Sang-Cheol mumbled under his breath.

Sang-Cheol guessed he would have to find out. "Ms. Felton. If you would. Please sing me a song." As a scientist and half a doctor, Sang-Cheol needed to test whether or not the file was true. Sabrina had a history of smoking, according to her medical history. Smoking, naturally, destroys the lungs upon continuous usage of cigarettes. Sang-Cheol didn't know whether this was true or not since he also smoked like Sabrina. Maybe HPs had a stronger lung capacity? Regardless, he needed to know if Sabrina was infected with being a 'musician.'

Spoiler: Tags

QuirkyAngel

 

[tityanya]

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝔸𝕤: 𝕆𝕞𝕚​

I am here: Bridge to Central
With: Paris, Takaonna, Hector, Yukari
Scene: Beginner's Guide To Housekeeping
Time: Pre-Arc 1 - Dusk, August 2019

"You know once I start, I cannot help myself"

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎

From the opposite side of the river, ghastly pale hands emerged from the water. Naomi shivered as she watched Takonna emerge like a perverse alligator. She truly did live up to Naomi’s worst nightmares. Naomi peered at her, trying to see if she had gotten the package. Ah, there! Between her…teeth. Of course. She couldn’t just pick it up with her hands like a normal person, could she? Naomi hoped the precious merchandise inside wouldn’t be damaged.

Naomi watched Takaonna step out of the river on the opposite bank and put her head in her hands. If it was any other person, she would have shouted “Other side of the river, dumbass!” But it was Takaonna. ”Takaonna, this way!” Naomi shouted, but it was too late. Takaonna had taken off into central, towards the other cars minding their business.

Naomi watched with horror as Takaonna ripped the roof off the nearest car with a screech that Naomi was certain could be heard in the southern district. Not for the poor people inside the car, no, she didn’t give a shit about them. That could have been her car, if Takaonna had come on the right side of the river. ”Takaonna! Stealth mission! No tearing apart cars!” Naomi yelled as loud as she could, hoping that the creature could hear her.

The ominous feeling she had gotten before, when she had seen the birds, heightened. Now Takaonna was the lone bird, in enemy territory. Naomi wasn’t going to jump in that river after her, lord knew what was inside it. She just had to hope that Takaonna had heard her, and came over to the other side of the river on her own accord. Or, she would have to drive into central. That…wasn’t a great idea either. She only ever went to central in a disguise, to avoid those annoying birds. And she didn’t want her common disguise becoming associated with Serpent members. Naomi bit down on her thumb itself, not the nail, trying to overcome her anxiety.

But that relief wouldn’t come. As Naomi watched Takaonna, she also watched a figure approach her, sword in hand. Naomi couldn't hear what he said, but the body language was clear. He was threatening Takaonna. Naomi focused on her lungs, growing them larger and filling them with more air than any normal person could take in. ”THROW IT BACK IN THE RIVER, TAKAONNA!” Naomi shouted, her voice greatly amplified, echoing back to her from across the river. Naomi clutched at her heaving chest as a wracking cough consumed her. God, that hurt. But she couldn’t just stand there watching and feeling bad for herself. Takaonna needed help, and Naomi sincerely doubted that Takaonna would listen to her. She had to keep it vague so that the little birdie facing Takaonna wouldn’t immediately know what she was talking about. But that ran the risk of Takaonna not knowing what Naomi was talking about.

Naomi jumped into her car, peeling out towards the road. Traffic was still heavy, but there, an opening! She shot her car through a narrow gap, peeling out onto the road proper. She slammed the stick into second, the car growing screaming as she refused to switch gears so she could gain speed faster, before she slammed into third. Her plan was fairly simple: gain as much speed as humanly possible, and then hit him with her car. How bad of a dent could they leave, anyways?

Her plans were dashed, however, by a car crashed in the side of the road. A quite familiar one with a missing license plate, crashed into the median. "Fuck!" Naomi shouted, pulling up on her parking break, spinning the car out and stopping mere inches away from the black one. She held onto the steering wheel for a moment, breathless. That was close--good thing all the street racing she did taught her how to react in split-second emergencies like that.

She looked over at the figure as they got out of the car, and was surprised to see that she recognized him. Paris, Tri's son. And he had an ominous grey cloud spewing from his mouth. Naomi was tempted to just stay in the car, but her now closer look at the other assailants gave her pause. She pushed open her car door, bending over at the waist as though the near-accident had affected her much more than it did. Placing a hand on the hood of her car, as though she needed it to balance, she brought her head up and shouted at the group. ”Who the fuck do you assholes think you are, huh? This isn't some place to get in a fucking fight! How many other people are gonna crash their cars today because of your giant fucking egos?” Naomi shouted at them. She knew that the crashed car wasn't their fault, that was squarely on Takaonna, but she was just trying to distract them from the two way more dangerous combatants in the ring. And if she was lucky, she could learn enough about them to mimic their voice.

​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((Discipline))

@FangS31 @Damafaud @Astrylan AriAriAbabwa

 

[Coyote Hart]

Peyton Xiong

CS Link

SCENE:

This is an Investigation

LOCATION:

Sang-Cheol's Car, North District

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 || 1 Month Later

PARTICIPANTS:

Peyton, Sang-Cheol

This is an Investigation

One could wonder why Peyton was in a stranger's car. He had been taught at home when he was young and at school: Don't get in a stranger's car. Don't get in no matter how convincing their words are. Not if they offer candy, not if they tell you that they were a designated driver to pick you up. So it was mysterious how Peyton immediately got in when Sang-Cheol simply said to him, "Get in."

Well, reality was weirder than fiction, unfortunately.

"Pops...?" Peyton had asked when the car pulled up to him. Under the misimpression that the driver was his dad, Peyton had taken a seat. He didn't bother questioning why his so-called 'Dad' was in a completely different car than usual, and why his voice, usually so filled with warmth and joy, was so cold. It was only after realizing that the driver looked nothing like his dad and that he seemed around Peyton's age that Peyton was aware that he should've asked about it. They weren't even of the same ethnicity!

But this guy didn't seem too bad. He threw a deadly glare back at Peyton, making Peyton smile innocently and shift back and forth, unbuckled, in his seat. Mean looks were like food to Peyton. Nom! Chomp! Peyton wanted more of it; he couldn't get enough of it. But it would be odd to just grin at someone glaring at him, so Peyton broke the silence.

"Where are you taking me, hyung?" Peyton asked, "You're not going to kill me and throw my body into the sewers, are you? Cause if you wanna try, I know you'll regret it!"

Even with Raph's blood coursing through his veins, Peyton had plenty of attempts on his life by Serpents that were frustrated, to say the least, at Peyton's prior betrayal of the Serpents. It had gotten to the point that he wasn't even scared. He could take on this normal-looking man. Peyton had never really considered his actions a 'betrayal' anyway.

Misuteeku

 

[Caffeine_Obsessed]

Yuto Nishimura

CS Link

SCENE:

Sir, This is a Hospital

TIME:

Tuesday, September 28th, 2021 || Post Arc 2

LOCATION:

Correspondance Hospital, Lower Central

PARTICIPANTS:

Peyton, Yuto

Sir, This is a Hospital

Yuto giggled as Peyton bent to take off his shoes, nearly tripping from the tugging whistle hobbling on one leg. Taffy was so silly! Yuto was all too capable of taking off his own clothes. But, he supposed he'll acquiesce to his Taffy's whims. For now.

A gasp left him as a rush of cold water soaked his clothed back, his back flinching into an arch to try and get away from it. The chilliness made all the worse from the damp cloth clinging onto him. A pout formed on his lips as he glowered down at his companion. How could Taffy do this to him? How could he deceive him into frolicking in the freezing rain-pour? The betrayal!

Despite the freezing temperature only lasting for a couple seconds, the three eyed man continued to pout, averting his gaze to glare at the wall. He glanced to Peyton from the side of his eye as he began speaking to him again. Yuto only huffed, crossing his arms and closing his eyes to continue sulking at the wall. He couldn't keep up the facade long enough however, his shoulders relaxing and posture slouching down so Peyton could have a better angle to comb through his hair. He blinked at Taffy through the cascade of bubbles, a purse stuck on his lips. Despite how nice and warm it felt to have Peyton pampering him, Yuto was still a stubborn man.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. A small, devious revenge. With a small quirk of amusement to his lips, Yuto gasped, hissing and shutting his eyes tight, his spine straightening in pain. He reached up to cover the eye on his forehead, pretending the evil shampoo had found it's way to bring the absolute worst pain to his most sensitive eye. He turned his back to Peyton, a wail of pain leaving him, his head bent down into the cradle of his hands.

He continued sobbing and whimpering, rubbing his eye furiously. After a few more seconds of his wonderful acting, a smile graced his lips, his shoulders shaking in a silent laughter. Yuto spun around, grabbing Taffy's collar and ripping his shirt down the middle. "Gotcha!" A torrent up cackles and giggles erupted from him.

Spoiler: Tags

Coyote Hart

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

Literally only the end of this post matters The majority is just for me.​

Cleo "PIXEL" Silva

CS Link

SCENE:

Walkies ("Dog" Walkers Needed)

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 — TBA

LOCATION:

Silva Residence, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Silva, Nero, Hiachi, Nicole, Renjiro, Ottilie

WALKIES ("DOG" WALKERS NEEDED)

He learned to thread the needle at nine. Less than a month later, he made his first mask and cap—a crude handiwork but it was his handiwork. The goggles came next. First, a cheap, store-bought pair of swim-goggles that induced a headache after so long of wearing them, but he was dedicated. A sensation that his eyes were being sucked out of their sockets until his father got him a good set. Then, when he was twenty, they became permanent, converted to corrective lenses after a stunt nearly cost him his sight.

A pair of round-framed, green-tinted glasses were the alternative, but he only wore them at home. Home also being the only place he would go longer than five minutes without his mask.

An open book in his lap, the Introducción a la Ciencia Mineral. He bounced one leg up and down, the pages quaking, words blurring. How he could read them through all that movement was a phenomenon worthy of study itself. But he did it. More than once by the numerous colorful tabs scattered throughout its entirety.

The alarm clock on the nightstand rang—three more textbooks sitting beside it, the top most publication’s cover coated in a thin layer of dust—and Silva stood, slapping the Introduction to Mineral Science closed, tossing it onto the disheveled mess that was his bed.

He disabled the alarm, yawning, and paced around the room in search of his goggles. Piles of clothes and costumes, costume accessories, sewing supplies, were all haphazardly stacked about. Books, books, and more books—small, colorful towers everywhere one could observe—most of them mechanical and scientific of content.

On the way out of the room, mask hanging around his neck, he slapped the television screen and withdrew its pixels into possession—a 55-inch flat, mounted upon the wall above his sewing machine and costume design station. It went black. Cyan freckles of light in the thousands swirled up his arm as he proceeded down the hall, the sound of his footsteps an offensive clack!, clack!, clack! on the ears.

Then, all at once, they ceased when Silva, who was unaware that they would be having company, spotted the yellow goofball standing in the archway of the foyer.

The sight gave him pause, static in the brain while he worked to process it, but laughter soon emerged from the confusion. Silva, taking heavy steps toward Ottilie, walked into view of those in the living room—Nero, someone else, and another one he recognized but couldn’t quite pin the name to, but who looked like Ruriko in a “squint your eyes and you’ll see it” kind of way.

Bubbling amusement rode up his throat and spilled from a mouthful of sharp teeth, “W-WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE!?” He laughed some more. “AM I LATE TO THE COSTUME PARTY?!... WHAT IS-” An abrupt change of demeanor, he was serious now. Silva adjusted his goggles, a skeptical pursing of the lips as he cast his gaze over the rest of the faces, “Uhhhhh... what is going on?...”

Was this another intervention?

SILVA NOTES​

— —POST RECAP: Silva laughs at Ottilie's hazmat suit then asks what's going on.

— —WEARING: Aviator cap + Goggles; Crop-top hoodie; Sweatpants, rolled up and hemmed at the knees

— —HAIR: Green this time. He smells harshly of chemicals.

— —PIXELS: Currently wielding some. No constructs in this post.

(Interacting w/ Ottilie, Nero, Renjiro)
(Mentioned Ruriko)
Elenion Aura Saturn_moon Beann miki Infab ​

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Meirin Azuza

CS Link

SCENE:

[Clouds at the Summit]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, March 21st, 2017

LOCATION:

Millennium Hall, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Shen, Meirin

Clouds at the Summit

Meirin stifled a yawn as she stood, hand behind her back near the Night Lord’s seat.

It wasn’t so much that she found the performances at Moonshadow Sanctuary boring as she found it harder to be invested in something she wasn’t actively involved in. The same reason she couldn’t sit still for movies. Lack of physical activity exhausted her nearly as much as too much physical activity and the “artistry” of rich people wasn’t something she very much understood. Some of the performances were cool. Some weren’t. The two that stood out the most were the first and last performances, for entirely different reasons, but they were at least memorable.

As Atsuki Azuza, the Night Lord and owner of Eternal Night Palace, stood to exit out the grand archway, Meirin moved to follow. The 19-year-old Dragon rookie was only here to observe, after all. To meet with the Dragon King and familiarize herself with the High Families, which comprised of the East District's oldest families - families that tended to produce prominent members of Azure Dragon gang. It’d been only a year since she’d received her invitation and there was much she still had to learn.

Fortunately.

If Meirin had to go up there, the best she could do was probably grow big and demonstrate some Shaolin martial arts or something. Certainly nothing that would show off "Azuza" family prowess at any rate. And considering their “clan” was only 3 members, with two of them being adopted, some probably already looked down on them. Snubbed brothels and brothel ownership as well. Dumb rich people, that is.

“What did you think, Meirin?”

“It was alright I guess,” Meirin shrugged. “The ceremony’s a bit too stiff for my liking, but the Jack was really cool! I liked how he clapped even though the opener kid flubbed.”

Honestly, it wasn’t too bad. Most of the dance went well, at least to Meirin who knew nothing about “Bae family arts”. If Hanuel hadn’t left the stage as awkwardly as he did, she wouldn’t have known he messed up.

“He certainly possesses a lot of power,” Atsuki agreed, stroking his beard. A Yue sitting next the King instead of a Yun wasn’t lost to him. “And what did you think of the current King?”

“Uhh, he seems…friendly?”

It was all Meirin got considering Faa Yun really only sat on his pillow and spoke to important families.

“As an Azure Dragon, your duty will be to protect him until the next King ascends, and all the Kings and Queens afterwards, until the day you die. That’s what it means to be one of us.”

Meirin nodded seriously.

“That said, trust yourself as well. You were given an invitation for a reason and, while Dragons follow the orders of their superiors, they hold their head high and pave their own way as well. Do not tarnish your honor no matter what anyone else says.”

“Even if they’re a King?”

“It’s not a King that will have to live with the decisions you make.”

Meirin had to think about that one for a bit, but ultimately nodded as well. “Can we go home now? This dress is seriously uncomfortable and my make-up is starting to itch…”

Atsuki laughed. “Yes, let’s go home.”

 

[joshuadim]

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

Tigers B-side: The House Always Wins

LOCATION:

West District, The White Tiger

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Camila, Ryutaro, Jennifer, Alice

The House Always Wins

Ryu kept his gaze fixed on Hiachi as he watched her fold, his face not betraying any emotion for a brief moment before returning to a faint smirk. It was a starting probe, but when the next hand was dealt he was given a fairly poor hand. An two and a seven - unlikely to get anything strong off the starting river. But Ryu looked at Hiachi again with a cold gaze before looking down to his cards once more to test the waters. "Hmm... raise to 100, again." he commented, before sipping at his sake and refilling his small glass. The dealer took the raise, which made several others at the table fold or outright leave as they were out of their league in cash spending now.

But this was not simply a move out of arrogance but, rather, it was to see if this girl would take the bait. Even with such an atrociously bad hand, he could not imagine anyone taking the bluff lightly unless they *knew* something in some manner. Now was the time to see what exactly he could narrow down the possibilities as being. He also turned to Jennifer and shrugged, "What about you, ma'am? Will you call or raise?" he asked to his compatriot.

Interacting: Hiachi ( miki ), Jennifer ( Uasal )

 

[Peckinou]

Welsha Reaper

CS Link

SCENE:

A Lion's Pride.

LOCATION:

The Tiger's Lair, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Mugen Elenion Aura , Camila Roda the Red , Tak miki , Ryutaro joshuadim , Welsha, Passeri The One Eyed Bandit , Dagger simj26 , Hiachi thebigfella , Eustass

A Lion's Pride

Welsha had to think for a moment as she had to recall the email Camilia said she had sent her, Welsha stared into the air and tapped her chin, as she finally recalled the email "Ohhhh, yeah, I remember now, don't worry Cam Cam, I'll have it sent to you as soon as I can!" Welsha then gave an innocent smile to Camilia, she was going to be sure to do Camilias task when she could, though Welsha soon directed her attention toward Camilias bandaged left shoulder, before giving a glance to the girl Camilia had handed a mound of papers to. The girl seemed to be in a hurry to leave though, so Welsha decided to leave her to her own business and instead gave Camilia her complete attention. But as soon as she opened her mouth in order to speak, a new person entered the room, and by how tense everyone had gotten just by his presence she was sure the person wasn't good news to say the least.

Still Welsha maintained her composure and smile as she turned her head in order to take in the sights of the new presence, a group of men who she didn't recognize and was now being confronted at gunpoint by the woman known as Dagger. It seemed like the air turned quite hostile though Welsha really didn't care all too much as it had no real effect on her, yet she was distanced enough that a retreat wouldn't be all that problematic. But things did still seem tense as one of the men made an attempt to remedy the situation, Welsha kept her eyes on the group and listened in on what was happening.

Judging by what was being said, Welsha wasn't sure what to think of them, or if they were even Tigers in the first place, perhaps they were a faction within the Tigers she didn't know about. Either way, they had peaked Welshas curiosity and Welsha couldn't help but lean towards Camilia and ask "Uhm Cam Cam, do you know any of those guys?" Considering Camilia was a Veteran Welsha assumed she might know something about the strangers. But thinking on it, Welsha was starting to doubt that the group may even really be Tigers, especially since a group with that type of attitude would probably have garnered quite a bit of attention if they were legitimately part of the gang.

 

[Lucem]

Fade (Isaiah Spade)

CS Link

SCENE:

If It Means A Lot To You

LOCATION:

East District

TIME:

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

PARTICIPANTS:

Isaiah, Ruriko

IF IT MEANS A LOT TO YOU

After yet another round of scrubbing and rinsing, he tore his gaze away from the sink, doing his best to ignore the mix of black and red that dyed the once pure porcelain. He chose to focus on the mirror and the thing staring back at him, searching for eyes in the familiar blur he called a face. Eventually, there was a semblance of clarity, and two livid spots made themselves known, returning his look as other features slowly faded into reality. That was the face of the so-called Ace.

Not a hair out of place, the man looked back at him without revealing a hint of the physical and mental fatigue he felt. He was spotless and without wear. A true reflection of everything he contributed. Everything he didn't contribute, to be more accurate. No sign of effort. That's how it was. It didn't matter how much his body tried to scream and deny it.

Burying Fade's face into a nearby towel, he wiped away any remainder of the day's failures and left the restroom, cutting off the dim light on his way out. As he crossed into the living room, he paused to visit the dark ball of fur resting on the arm of his sofa. Despite all the chaos, the black cat slept soundly, ignorant to it all. It must have been blissful.

Scratching behind Misty's ear, the homeowner checked his phone once again. Only a minute had gone by since he last looked at the time. It went without saying that he was worried, but after what happened in Central, he couldn't help but feel more anxious than usual. The photo definitely didn't help matters. It only exacerbated the problem, giving the creeping tendrils at the edge of his mind more opportunities to dig deep into his brain. It was happening again.

The second he heard Silva's voice, the switch in his head flipped. The sensation was gone. The pain was gone. The thoughts were gone. He killed everything. None of that was important. It never was. It never would be.

After tossing the still moistened towel to the side, he quickly approached the door and looked through the peephole. It was a better view of what he'd seen earlier. They were in bad shape.

Once he was finished unlocking the various latches, he opened the door and stepped out, stopping just in front of Silva and the barely conscious Ruriko. Right away, he extended his arms, offering to her away from the injured man, worried he may be exerting himself. "It's okay, I can take over from here."

Looking at the man's injured eye and various other wounds, his concern grew. However, it didn't leak into his calm tone. "You need medical attention as soon as possible. Do you need help getting somewhere?" If it were possible, he would have tried contacting Kazue, but there were many more injured people who required her services tonight.

"What exactly happened?" He knew about the planned raid on the Serpents, but that was all. He'd need to get an official record at some point, but right now, he just wanted to know what he was dealing with. It was hard to tell what kind of injury Ruriko suffered just by looking at her.

His gaze lingered on Ruriko's face for a moment, but it eventually turned back to Silva's. "Thank you. Really." The Ace couldn't be there when he should have been, too busy handling things somewhere else. Silva was the reason things turned out okay, which was more than he could say about himself.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me."

Spoiler: Tags

Beann Doctor Llamabean Wxnter

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

[The New Oasis Way]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2021

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Sang-Cheol

THE NEW OASIS WAY

It was a brief moment of victory, as the giant figure degraded into a torrent of blood, scattering all around the street. Charlie took a moment to catch his breath, as the exhaustion, pain and the strange effect of the fire fumes were starting to catch up to him. But the respite did not last long in the slightest, as spikes rose from the puddles of blood, stabbing all of the phoenixes. The veterans screeched as they were stabbed in multiple areas, a mixture of limbs, sides, back and chest. The damage wasn't too severe, but it was enough to become a detriment to all their combat capabilities. Charlie, on the other hand, could feel the small stakes thrusting into him, quite painfully so, but barely able to pierce his skin, only reaching about half an inch deep, still, it was enough to make him visibly cringe and tough out the pain.

When the rookie was able to recover his focus, he turned to watch, horrified, as Seer was taken inside the the otherwordly belly of that mysterious girl, a mixture of fear and rage boiled within him as he watched the man who was taking care of him was being snatched away.

"SEER! BRING HIM BACK YOU BASTARD!" Charlie took a sprint, charging forward towards her, if he was able to knock her out, then perhaps he might also be able to pry her open, releasing Seer. The veteran phoenixes, on the other hand, still took a longer moment, staggered in pain by the impalings. In fact, eventually they WERE about to go and help Charlie, however, plans changed as a vagrant bottle impacted against the armored van, releasing a courtain of flames which quickly started to envelop the vehicle. "The van!" Screamed one of the phoenixes, watching in fear as the transport was set ablaze. "Let's get the briefcases, quickly!" Said another one, approaching the issue in a more calculated manner, hurrying towards the vehicle on a noticeable limp, the others soon following along. Helping Seer might have been an important issue, but making sure the money arrived safely was still the highest priority, they all knew the risks they were getting themselves in when they signed up to this job, nay, when they joined the Scarlet Phoenixes.

Misuteeku

 

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

CS Link

SCENE:

The New Oasis Way

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Charlie

The New Oasis Way

"I'm afraid that won't be happening any time soon." A voice emerged from out of Charlie's tunnel vision. Sang-Cheol appeared from behind Charlie. The scientist reached out and grabbed the Phoenix Rookie's ponytail and pulled it back, preventing him from pursuing the retreating Ahri. The potential steroid augmented his natural strength and, with ease, held him in place.

Sang-Cheol glared at Charlie's back. "You Phoenixes are all the same," He whispered into Charlie's ear. "Caring about each other, yet losing sight of your focus. I wonder if the root cause is hypocrisy or stupidity." Whatever the case may be, Sang-Cheol could never understand the philosophy of the other gangs. The Dragons desired justice, yet the definition of justice allowed benefitted themselves. The Tigers desired wealth, but they ate themselves out for the sake of it.

The Pheonixes were the ones that bizarre him the most. With the value of their gang being 'family,' all of them acted in line or contrary to that value. A part of him felt infuriated by this fact. For preaching the fact that they care about each other, they were scrambling to get whatever was inside the van and not saving one of their own. Yet, the blue-haired girl who he grabbed was acting to save her fellow Phoenix. In the end, didn't this water the meaning of family? If he had a family, he would cherish them and devote his entire being to them. They would talk, they would hang out, and most of all.

"For your stupidity, die for them." In the next moment, Sang-Cheol lifted Charlie with ease. Pulling back the ponytail of blue hair, Sang-Cheol proceeded to lift him overhead and smash him to the ground, but he wasn't done yet. With one more swing, he tossed the Phoenix into one of the walls nearby. Debris and dust exploded from the area, but Sang-Cheol wasn't done yet. Flames sprouted from his fingertips, and with one movement, they gushed forth.

Like a torrent of flames, the flames crashed into where Charlie should have been amidst the rubble and smoke.

Spoiler: Tags

Roda the Red

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

[The New Oasis Way]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2021

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Sang-Cheol

THE NEW OASIS WAY

Charlie's charge came to a stop, however, that was not because of his own doing, but rather because of the sudden tugging of the serpent with the glasses. He listened to the man's words, somewhat staggered by his sudden move

"What are you... Let me go alread-"

He tried to demand for freedom, but suddenly, the world in front of him shifted and rotated, his confusion crushed, both metaphorically and literally, crushed against the floor as he was swung against it. The phoenix gasped for air as he felt the pain from the blow. He attempted to grab a hold of the man's wrist, but he was too slow, as he was lifted off the ground, and thrown against the wall, this time, the impact was more severe. His head throbbed agonizingly after impacting against the solid material. As he coughed and regained his composure, Charlie noticed that amidst the large cloud of dust, his visage caught a large, orange glow which grew rapidly, it wasn't hard to connect two and two together, causing him to muster all the strength he could to leap to the side, a torrent of flame landing against the cracked wall where he just stood a second ago, getting caught in those flames would've definitely been bad news. As the dust cleared, the rookie caught sight of his enemy, negative emotions swelling up as the picture became clear.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY FAMILY LIKE THAT, WHEN YOU SERPENTS JUST KILL EACH OTHER AS IF IT WAS NOTHING!". His muscles tightened and clenched as the lowered his center of mass. Then, his legs kicked forward, lunging him at high speeds as he aimed to delive a blow towards the serpent's chest.

Misuteeku

 

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

CS Link

SCENE:

The New Oasis Way

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2020

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Charlie

The New Oasis Way

Sang-Cheol his teeth as the Rookie landed a clean blow to his chest, which sent him stumbling back. The blow agitated the scientist even more. "Kill each other for nothing? At least we don't hide under convenient truths to appease our sense of morality." That was meant to be the Serpent, the core value of freedom. While the concept was just as flawed as the other gangs, it was much more simplistic than the other gangs. You can be free as you want to be but be prepared to protect that freedom. In the end, the only reliable person you can deniable is the freedom of self.

Re-engaging with Charlie, Sang-Cheol grasped the Rookie's sleeve. "Though I'll admit, you're definitely birds of a feather." His eyes narrowed as he readied up a punch. Sang-Cheol exhaled as he growled out his next sentence. "So why don't you meet that family in hell." With the hand that was grasping Charlie's, the flame was lit. Immediately, Sang-Cheol and Charlie both found their clothes being consumed by flames. Like an endless wildfire, it proceeded to try and scorch them.

"In this country, there's no such thing as normalcy, peace, or kindness." In a country filled with people who were divided by powers, could it even be normalized? "In the end, Amestiria is about yourself and yourself only." From the founding of this country to the growth of the city. Everything was built with a foundation of blood and tears and maintained with pain and suffering. His flames thawed that everfrost feeling and burned his emotions. "That is the New Oasis Way!" Rearing up his punch, he socked Charlie straight on the jaw with his brass knuckle.

Spoiler: Tags

Roda the Red

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Passeri Park

CS Link

SCENE:

A Lion's Pride

TIME:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1

LOCATION:

The Tiger's Lair

PARTICIPANTS:

Mugen, Camila, Tak, Ryutaro, Welsha, Passeri, Dagger, Hiachi, Eustass

A Lion's Pride

As it turned out, it paid well to make investments. Usually, Passeri avoided the Tigers' Den. Her stripes were ones not worn openly, and to lurk here was to flaunt them for all to see. But, today, the concrete rainforest stirred. New pieces emerged from the thicket, laid by a hand unseen.

"Charmed." It wasn't a common one, the manner with which Passeri addressed Mugen and his Merry Men. It was usually the carrot, not the stick, that she favoured, but these ones felt different. She trusted Dagger's instincts, and doubly so she did Kiwi's lead. "Does that make him Robin Hood?" There was a smile on her face, cool and inscrutable. "Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, is it? I don't think wandering in through the front door is doing a very good job of that."

She stepped beside Dagger, and laid a hand on her gun. Gentle, but firm.

"Just kidding~" She eyed Ryoji and his blade, and then the twitchy one in the rear. Hardly more than boys, either of them. "How about we ease up a tad? Put the steel and iron away?" It was already bad enough that she had to be here. The last thing she needed was a fight.

"Sorry about the cold welcome. We were expecting you, but the word along the grapevine was... Light on details. My friend here was just doing her job." Her smile was one of welcome, now. Her eyes turned warm. Her body was still tense. "It's names we needed, and it's names we've got."

"Mugen, right?" Passeri's eyes met with his. He was years her junior, yet still, he towered over her. "Your reputation precedes you, you know that? It's not often that the welcoming wagon gets rolled out like this." Her hand lifted from Dagger's iron, and shifted to fill the space between her and the hulking teen. An offering, dressed in painted nails. "Park. Let's get along, okay?"

Spoiler: Tags

Interacting: Elenion Aura simj26 Doctor Llamabean
Relevant: Roda the Red thebigfella joshuadim Peckinou miki

 

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

http://

CS Link

SCENE:

This is an Investigation

LOCATION:

Streets, North District

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 | 1-2 Months After

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Peyton

This is an Investigation

His hands that were on the steering wheel tightened. Sang-Cheol came to realize a few things as he drove down the road. One was he definitely disliked Peyton. After his peer called him 'pops' for seemingly no apparent reason, Sang-Cheol felt gobsmacked but too focused on his anger to notice. The other thing was Peyton calling him hyung. When he heard that word, Sang-Cheol wanted to swerve off the road and crash into a building, taking both him and Peyton down with it.

Hyung. How many times had he used that word before? Countless times, he presumed. It always had a negative connotation attached to it. His hyung, or older brother in the common tongue, was always abusive to him when he was younger. Yet back then, he always wanted his attention and love. Maybe because they were of blood that Sang-Cheol back then had hoped that they could love each other like a family would. However, that bridge was burned down when hyung abandoned him at the 24/7 on that fateful day. Because of this, he refused to see anyone as a 'hyung,' Snake specifically. Hearing Peyton call him that...

"Don't call me that unless you really want to die," Sang-Cheol growled from the front seat. His eyes were fully on the mirror. With his peripheral vision, he drove down the road. It was mostly empty, so he didn't worry about crashing into anyone else. "I don't care whether or not you betrayed the Sable Serpents before. It's not like it's been the first that has happened before." Jiak came to mind, though Sang-Cheol stamped the hypocritical man out of it.

"You were part of the operation that Snake led, right? Putting aside your questionable loyalty to the Sable Serpents, I want you to tell me everything that happened in that mission." Someone might have questioned why Sang-Cheol would ask Peyton for this information, and he would bring up a variety of reasons why. Damien would have told him all about it, but Sang-Cheol was furious with the octopus man at the moment. He didn't know where Sabrina was currently. August was a former tiger that he didn't trust. The scientist refused to acknowledge Takaonna. Didn't care about Julien and refused to associate with Raphael at the moment.

He had plans for Kinsley that he'd ideally want to keep a clean slate for.

So, Peyton was the ideal candidate for this little investigation. However, Sang-Cheol was considering jumping out of the car and letting Peyton die in a horrific crash. He had the baby locks in the car enabled.

Coyote Hart

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

[The New Oasis Way]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2020

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Sang-Cheol

THE NEW OASIS WAY

Charlie glared at the serpent with rage-filled eyes, the man's words falling on deaf ears as the phoenix only care about rescuing his gangmate. He opened his mouth to speak, but if any words happened to be uttered, they were drowned out by a spontaneous sea of flames erupting between the pair, engulfing them. It was, to put it lightly, a world of pain. Rashes on his skin started to erupt as the intense hit overwhelmed the rookie. He attempted to make a move, but was distraught by a clean hit in the face, the metal egregiously connecting with jaw, a nasty sound coming from the impact. Even with his Hypercharge's ample defense, the hit was still felt, very much so, the drug-powered punch carried an impressive power behind it. But that wasn't all, in fact, given the previous attacks, as well as the injuries prior caused by the other foes, his tempering started to wane, its effectivity slowly degrading.

The blow nearly made him fall over, should that happen, it would almost certainly become his demise given his current predicament. But he was able to plant his foot firmly on the ground, barely able to keep focus as the flames continued to painfully envelop him. Charlie grabbed the serpent by the shirt of his own, gritting his teeth as he landed a pair of jabs at his stomach, followed by pulling the man closer. "THAT...IS NOT MY WAY!" He then pulled the man in, connecting his own head with the other's into a violent headbutt.

Misuteeku

 

[Coyote Hart]

PEYTON XIONG

CS Link

SCENE:

Science Snafu

LOCATION:

August's Home

TIME:

Friday, March 29th, 2013 - 4:00PM | Pre-Arc 1

PARTICIPANTS:

August, Peyton

SCIENCE SNAFU

Peyton followed on August's tail as the latter decided to give Peyton a tour of the place. The expansiveness evoked a wide-eyed and wonderous look from Peyton as he looked at the delightfully modern-looking aesthetic. Compared to the rustic, homestyle dim sum restaurant that he lived above, there was a very 'clean' vibe to it all.

"Whew! I was hoping that it was a joke. Your accent is quite charming!" Peyton complimented August. It was true. There was a fanciful charm to August's accent, even if Peyton had no idea how to understand it.

As Peyton followed August, his mind briefly wandered back to the project. He hadn't had the opportunity to look at the project for more than a smidget, and he knew that there were all sorts of possible ideas, ranging from synthesizing nail polish to something about bioloonie sense or biolemons or bioluminescence or whatever. They all seemed far too complicated, save for one particular topic. Something about mitigation or migration or something (mitosis).

"Do you know anything about mititis?" Peyton asked August earnestly, confident despite his gaff with the name of the topic, "That one seems the easiest for us to do."

Peyton wondered about what a rich boy like August would have in his room. What sort of hobbies were August into? What lined his walls? Did he read any books? If August's dad wasn't going to be back before midnight and they didn't take too long with the project, it meant that they could even mess around a little and have some fun.

August's room probably was much better compared to whatever environment Peyton could provide in his messy bedroom. The only thing of note that Peyton could provide was probably snacks and dinner. Speaking of which...

"By the way, I bought us dinner! In case we get hungry," Peyton declared, grabbing a brown paper bag from his backpack. He had packed an assortment of leftovers from the store and had picked them up on the way over to August's house. He stayed a solid step and a half behind August as he went up the stairs.

Doctor Llamabean

 

[Elenion Aura]

MILO NAGISA

CS Link

SCENE:

Rain on the Mountaintop

LOCATION:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 28th

LOCATION:

Borgo Orecchiette, Fusilli

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Passeri, Jackson, Jesper, Pascal, Milo, Gav

RAIN ON THE MOUNTAINTOP

On the bus ride to Borgo Orecchiette, Milo had stared out the window, watching the urban landscape of New Oasis inevitably give way to the sprawling Amestrian countryside. The serene landscape seemed like a promise of something better, a cleaner, fresher world. The sky was clear overhead, and as Milo watched the hills of green roll by, he found that he was smiling. It was amazing what a change of perspective every now and again could do for the mind. And having company for the journey didn't hurt, either.

Even if Bolt pointed and exclaimed every time he saw a cow grazing in the fields.

Once they got their first real look at the Borgo Orecchiette estate, peeking up over the horizon, and again when they actually arrived and disembarked, Milo couldn't help but be captivated by its beauty and grandeur. It felt like stepping into a fantastical dream, a world apart from the reality he knew. But this enchanting environment also served as a stark reminder: in this world were the "haves" and the "have-nots". This place was a temple to wealth and opulence, built on the backs of how many unfortunates who'd never get to enjoy it?

The sight of the attending crowd, full of some familiar faces—and other "less than familiar" ones—reminded Milo of that fateful day. He thought about the game show, the dramatic turn of events that led them all here, and of course their, as of yet, unseen patroness who'd summoned them all today.

Speak of the devil, and She shall appear.

As Passeri descended the lavish staircase and greeted the contestants, Milo felt a twinge of suspicion needle the back of his mind. Their past together notwithstanding, Milo seldom knew how much he could afford to trust anyone, let alone someone as enigmatic as Passeri Park. Misgivings aside, he'd decided on the ride over to play along and observe for now, while searching for potential allies among the other contestants. He exchanged brief eye contact with Pascal, recogizing him as one of the finalists with whom he'd shared a stage, albeit briefly. He wondered if Gav and the others were here, as well.

As he listened to Passeri Park pontificate, Milo's thoughts drifted to Boltius. Perhaps despite his better judgment, Milo had brought Boltius along for the weekend, under the guise of a Scarlet Phoenix reconaissance and fact-finding mission, gathering intel on the Idol Queen of New Oasis on behalf of Hector.

Milo worried how things would go with Boltius here. He had secured an invitation to Passeri Park's inner circle, and bringing Bolt along was as much of an endorsement as he could give in his position. His behavior would determine, unequivocally, whether or not Milo would ever receive such an invitation again. And yet...

Ever since that day... Seeing his friend in that state...

When he'd returned to New Oasis, Milo had vowed never to lose a friend again, not if he could help it.

And so he'd dragged his friend, and the Ace of the Scarlet Phoenixes, along for the trip. Not only did Bolt's status as Ace prove possibly challenging—after all, there were bound to be members of rival gangs at this retreat. There was also the matter of his table manners.

Milo loved Boltius dearly. He also knew that his friend was, at times, far from a refined individual and that a luxurious setting like Borgo Orecchiette could prove... Challenging for him. Only time would tell if Milo's worries remained unfounded.

As the group moved towards the dining hall, Milo discreetly sidled up beside Boltius. "Try to act nat—" he began, then backtracked, realizing how act natural, could be misconstrued. "Try to keep a low profile."

If he reminded Boltius that they were on a mission as often as he could, then maybe things would work out all right.

It was just one weekend. What was the worst that could happen?

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Yura Heo

CS Link

SCENE:

Does this have Gluten?

TIME:

Pre-arc 1, 2013

LOCATION:

West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri Park, Yura Heo

Does this have Gluten?

Yura was not the type to snoop. Nor was he the type to speculate over his customers and what life events had led them to his doorstep today. It was just a coincidence that his gaze followed the conspicuous intruder during her venture for supplies while elbows propped it up on the counter. And it was just a coincidence that he began to mull under the weight of the stubbly chin that was reclined on palms.

It wasn’t like the store never saw visitors of her age, it was just that the standard demographic was on the older side of the spectrum. They often expressed that it was like walking through time when they visited the store. The shelves stocked with their childhood memories in the shape of brands that had ceased production and others that they had not seen at all since settling in New Oasis. The heritage of the city’s inhabitants was as sprawling as the hairs on his head after all, and not all of them were ready to completely give up all they had ever known.

Yura understood that sentiment. Perhaps better than any of the cookie tins that had been displaced from grandma’s cupboard onto his shelves. But what was her story? Rummaging through said cookie tins and foreign oddities like they weren’t good enough for a stamp of approval from that wrinkled forehead?

The lass returned to the counter and presented her pick of all the sorted wares. Yura sorted through her as well, a cocked brow in tow of the look that went from the pickled fish, to her growling stomach and finally the resignation that had dried to a plaster on top of the sweat. The shopkeeper straightened his back and picked the jar up. Numbed muscles and creaky joints weighed it with serious care.

“This is it? ‘S a whole lotta walkin’ fo’ one thing.” The corner of his lip bristled underneath his deadpan expression “-150 Amestriyen. ‘S a delicacy an’ scarce as hen's teeth on the market”. Yura shrugged and sized the lass up once more. Definitely a city lass, no wonder she didn’t know what to pick.

“Ain’t no way this is all. Jus’ how’re ya’ gonna grow any taller, eating jus’ this?” He huffed and put the jar away as he pulled something else out. Yura put forth a plastic chair that commanded her attention beside the counter. “Sit. I’ll getcha whatchu want. Jus’ tell me an’ I’ll find it. Take this in the meantime.” The pickled fish was exchanged next for a bag of crisps that was whipped out from below the cash register.

Maybe she hadn’t been that far off the mark with the stroke hypothetical. His brusque tone was the complete opposite of his actions: eyes that glared while shoulders slumped and letters drawling while movements were controlled to not verge on either sudden or slow.

He strolled towards the shelves before she could reject "Why're ya' even out this late anyway?". A quick glance towards the dark shop windows was enough to get his point across.

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Reaching The Heavens From Hell (Pre-Arc 3)

LOCATION:

Tourist & Casino District, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Shishido Takakazu, Sylvie Slezák (@FangS31)

Reaching The Heavens From Hell

With an annoyed twitch of his eyebrow, Tak immediately found himself annoyed by Sylvie’s bold assumption that he had changed his mind and was asking for help; after all, he just wanted to swap around the awkwardness of the situation to something more palatable. Standing quietly in line behind someone you just argued with wasn’t a look he could say he wanted to put up with.

He at least had the restraint to not open his mouth and snap back at the man for suddenly perking up and laughing with the incorrect assumption of his motives, not wanting to return to square one. Of course, he had no interest in being amiable with the guy, considering all the shit they had flung at each other earlier, but Tak reasoned in his wild head that it was the lesser of two evils to keep the conversation going.

Sylvie’s declaration of laying claim on the roulette wheel earned a clear scoff from the brute as he tilted his head backward slightly in indignation, “‘See your great luck?' I’ll be far too busy raking in the dough to give you a second thought,” He bluntly responded to Sylvie, but quickly turned his head away from the man to click his tongue, “I was going to go to the roulette tables, that damn pretty boy!” He cursed internally at Sylvie, having the same idea as him.

He only lingered on that thought for a moment; the question of how much money he brought and the closed distance brought him back to reality. Then, looking back at Sylvie, without a single bit of shame or apprehension, he idly scratched his neck and responded.

“50 dollars; decided it would be good to splurge a bit today,” He stated, evidently showing his poverty as if his attire didn’t do him much justice. He had no shame standing in such an expensive casino with only what most would consider pocket change.

Though this unpretentious air only lasted for a short while before Tak squinted at Sylvie, a smirk coming on his face, “How much money do you have? I might as well know how much I’ll put in my shoebox after today, assuming you don’t lose it all, right? Isn’t that right?” Tak childishly questioned, pitching up and adding more nasalness to his voice to make it all the more annoying.

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth

LOCATION:

West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Shishido Takakazu, Dante Aguilar (@Haze-)

Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth

Anguish, furor, despair. It all came out in one singular burst from Tak’s mouth in an almighty shout that burst from his lungs and crashed past his vocal cords to enter the open air.

Like a man possessed, his body rose from the ground in an explosive motion, his arms flinging upward to reach towards his head while doubling as a twin pair of scoops to send salty, buttery, and sugar-coated confetti up in the air, the bowls slamming against the ceiling and sending their contents around the room like a blizzard of kernels, only to land on the ground and everything else in the vicinity. Dante would undoubtedly find popcorn shoved between the cushions or hiding in corners years from now, but the mess or cleaning it was the least of the pair’s worries.

Scrambling away from the area in front of the TV, Tak virtually spilled over the couch as he hopped on top of it and vaulted over, the ground shaking as he landed. All this action only to run up to the nearest window and roughly pull the blinds out of the way, mashing his face against the glass to stare at the crescent moon high in the sky.

“THE PLACE CLOSES AT 10, AND THE DAMN MOON IS ALREADY OUT!” Tak caterwauled, almost as if he was blaming the cosmos and time for his misfortune. He peeled himself away from the glass, his skin briefly being stuck to its surface as he popped off, leaving an unmistakable mark of his body’s oils on the glass as he shifted his head to look at Dante. “Oi! What the hell are we gonna do about this!?”

As his mind was racing, and overzealous anguish took over any sense of reason, a sound against his eardrums buffered his neurons. A low, dull whistle.

At the moment, Tak couldn’t place its purpose, watching with a slight hint of confusion as Dante’s cheeks puffed slightly, but the sights in front of his eyes changed before realization could kick in.

The vertiginous glow of yellow within the shadows twisted and contorted, hues of luminance shifting to a blood-curdling crimson, floating through the darkness in an indistinguishable mosh of fur and teeth.

As it loomed over him, the difference in size was evident despite the lack of visible light. In any other situation, and with any other person, the appearance of such a beast would be disquieting, the undeniable threat prevalent.

“Isn’t that a bit overkill?”

Faced with the monstrous lupine, instead of fear, Tak displayed evident bemusement, the corner of his lip twitching as he gave a half smirk, trying to figure out why Dante had decided to summon his loyal guard dog.

Luckily before he could have to deal with the difficult task of thinking logically, the insult that had skipped the step of going through his auditory system to instead strike directly at his brain gave him something much more important to do.

“Who ya callin’ ugly? I don’t wanna hear that from a mangy mutt who looks like they’re carrying fleas.” Tak plainly gibed at the creature, the brute clearly not caring about arguing with potential, and more so one that could easily tear him in half.

Luckily, Dante nor his potential had any interest in bickering with the vociferous thug, the opening of the door acting as a guiding light in the dark cave that was Dante’s apartment and promptly reminding Tak of the task at hand.

Knowing for once Dante was in the right, Tak clicked his teeth, annoyed, and stilled his tongue. For once, he was on the same wavelength as Dante. Both of them share the same thought.

I’m not paying for that fucking movie.

“I’m grabbing it! I’m grabbing it, damnit!” Tak spat at the fellow Tiger, annoyed at his rushing, even if it was appropriate. Then, with a swift jog, Tak circled back around the sofa to walk back into the TV’s light, skidding to a stop, pulling up the carpet, and knocking away stray popcorn. He dropped onto his knees and hurriedly pushed the button to eject the disk. As the mechanical whir of the disk reader pushing it out hit his ears, and he saw the acrylic gleam, his fingers grabbed onto the end, tugging it so hard he pulled the DVD player out along with it, letting it loudly thud against the ground.

Pushing himself back up to his feet, he snatched up the DVD case for the movie as Tak ran towards the door, mashing the DVD into its protective covering, not bothering to secure it as he snapped the case closed, and the sound of it loosely rattling in the case echoed while he placed it under his shoulder like precious cargo.

With that, the brute dashed out of the door, his legs and knees raising high like a marathon runner, running out of the darkness to enter the crisp outside air.

As soon as he had escaped from the den that was Dante’s apartment, he at least had the courtesy to close the door.

“OORAAHH!” Tak blurted as he spun around on his heel and slammed the door with the side of his foot, slamming it shut as splinters popped out from the door frame.

…Well, at least he closed it.

Finally joining back up with Dante, Tak didn’t bother to respond to his half-finished question. The brute didn’t even acknowledge the inconsolable look in Dante’s eyes as he strolled past, approaching his scooter, 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, and one of its missing mirrors, Tak’s helmet, was hanging from one of the handles.

Surprisingly calmly, Tak slid himself onto the seat of his scooter, taking the bowl-shaped helmet off his bike and placing it onto his head with a comedic *pop* as his messy hair entirely disappeared under it. Then, with his safety in place, he turned to Dante, looking at him blankly, not saying a word.

---------------------

“OUT OF MY WAYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

The scene transitioned to a roaring engine, screeching tires, and blaring car horns, all drowned out by Tak’s angered shout. On this busy night, cars and trucks rode along the streets, obeying the traffic laws.

But, bobbing and weaving through them was a singular bright headlight that showed its owner as the view panned in. He had a sharp-toothed, downright devious smirk on his face as he rode alongside a semi; his whole body leaned forward as he gripped the handles tightly.

In a move of complete recklessness, Tak shifted his whole weight sideways, cutting in front of the truck to turn two lanes to the left, nearly bumping into the side rails as he straightened out, the wheels bumping against a slight rise in the pavement to cause the whole scooter to bounce.

He was driving like a madman with no care for personal safety, but despite that, he decided it would be best to hear from his passenger about his driving.

“You holding up back there!?” He shouted behind him, though he kept his eyes on the road.

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things

LOCATION:

North District

TIME:

Pre Arc 1 || 2021

PARTCIPANTS:

Tak, Nao ( tityanya )

Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things

“Sorry, I didn’t bring any bananas to train you with,” Tak quipped in response to the woman’s acknowledgment of his insult. To him, spitting venom at people was second nature, and it was clear that Naomi’s knee to the nuts hadn’t taken away his fangs.

But, as he tried to walk away from the problem, his knees were knocked together, and he hobbled forward instead of walking; despite his best attempts to look cool, he was still in pain. He hoped that his final parting words would be the end of the interactions with this feral lady.

But, as he heard her speak up again, his eyes went more lifeless than usual, lacking in any hue, the bags evident under them as a faint shadow cast over the side of his face, a slight sweat drop appearing on the other side.

“She’s still talking to me….”

He hoped she would simply leave him alone if he ignored her.

“Please leave me alone! Or better yet, disappear! Despawn! Let those guys chasing you appear and take you to the zoo where you belong!” He internally complained, hoping and praying for anything to save him from continuing to deal with this agitating drug addict.

Yet, as he turned his head to see if she had been whisked away like he had hoped, his neck swiveled to the side, and he saw her walking right beside him like she had just popped up beside him.

His head dropped immediately, a dark blue wave of despair appearing above his head. “She’s still here….”

Admitting defeat to the woman’s relentless dedication to being tied to his hip, he raised his head back up.

She sure was noisy, following him around and suddenly asking questions? That’s some pretty damn suspicious behavior.

“…Meh, she’s just a weirdo.”

Clueless, almost to the point it was innocent, any worry Tak had about her had been stifled away before it began to rise. She was just a weirdo; it was that simple.

“You don’t have to be a kid to be in school, idiot. Didn’t your mom teach you that every day is a lesson? The only question is if your teacher is gonna be the sweet lady at the bakeshop or crazy homeless guy who flashes high school girls in his free time,” Tak responded plainly to her, once again trying to take the stance as if he was imparting knowledge when he was blowing nothing but hot smoke.

“Plus, students are always the people askin’ dumb questions, like you. Course I know where I’m goin’!” Tak retorted at Nao’s assumption, sticking a hand into his pocket to pull up a crumbled old napkin. Grabbing it by the corners and unfurling it, he revealed that it had a drawing plastered across it, a map drawn with green crayon, entirely shoddy and virtually unreadable except for the large X placed in the center.

“I got a map! So I’m all good,” Tak smirked cockily, fully confident he had given the woman a second thought about ever questioning his knowledge.

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Clad in Golden Dreams

LOCATION:

West District

TIME:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022

PARTCIPANTS:

Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Jesper

Clad in Golden Dreams

Gaudy gowns and lavish suits decorated the room; heels and oxfords clapped and clicked along the polished marble floors. The sheen was almost clear enough to rival the vanity of a mirror as it reflected back the lights from above.

Vanity was one simple word, yet it could explain so much of the scene’s current surroundings. The ironed, wrinkleless coverings that draped off the side of the tables and the embroidery around the edges manifested as patterns of shapes and expressions of flora.

There was no feast for the large abundance of entrepreneurs, executives, and hedge fund babies who mixed with each other. What sat on their plates were not meals but offerings, tiny decorations placed on top of a white canvas. Expensive ingredients like foie gras, pink lettuce, and yartsa gunbu justified why the cuisine deserved to be consumed by such a regal populace, the additional elegance of garnishes and structure making it pleasing to the eye and expensive palette. Delicate and defined flavors were paired with robust and definitive brands of alcohol, and the labels that decorated the bottles of wine and champagne were adorned with non-native titles that only an experienced sommelier could name. All of such could be consumed with the highest grades of china, the most ornate silverware, and the clearest glasses.

As they wined and dined, they mingled and parlied; their discussions consisted of numerous topics, but whether it was about family, business, or gossip, it all boiled down to the same smiles, the same laughs, and the same masks. Voices that spoke from those from backgrounds full of activity and life that only echoed hollow, lacking in character, yet carrying worth in abundance.

Such a setting like this was one that only specific people could survive in; those who had spent their years surrounded by the same masquerade that hid the hideous veracities, ones who had allowed their own mask to be burned onto their flesh to prevent it from being torn off.

“Hahah! That’s why I told her to sell it! That wife of mine won’t listen to anything I tell her!” The boisterous chortle of a portly man brought the focus away from its broad strokes to place its intention on a set pair.

Thick sausage-like fingers wrapped daintily around the thin neck of a flute glass, golden rings adorned with shimmering jewels hugging his digits even tighter. The glass raised upward, the sparkling golden liquid being pulled by gravity towards his meaty lips, gulping down what was left of the contents.

Standing across from him was a woman in a bright turquoise empire waist dress paired nicely with the white fur tippet draped around her shoulders. She was caked in make-up, and the amount of jewelry worn around her neck almost looked like it would weigh her down.

She held a gloved hand to her ruby-red lips, stifling a small laugh at the man’s loud complaints about his family; her eyes fluttered, showing off the thick layer of black eyeshadow she wore as she tried to offer advice, “You should just surprise her with another one, then she’ll have nothing to fret about.”

Removing the glass from his lips, the large man closed his eyes as he laughed in response, just so happening to hold out his empty glass as he guffawed, “Yeah! You’re totally right! Hahaha!”

“More champagne?”

From out of view, another voice interrupted the conversation. From the situation, it was clearly someone working as a server, the lifeblood keeping all the rich appeased and happy. But, the way they spoke, the tone of their voice, and the timbre it held was not that of someone experienced in service. Instead, it was gruff, serrated around the edges, not having a semblance of pleased inflection.

However, two were engrossed in their discussion. The overweight executive didn’t notice or simply didn’t care. Either way, he extended his glass out to the voice, not even bothering to look at them directly. After all, it was just another faceless servant.

The top of a bottle tipped sideways as the familiar shimmering liquid poured over and began to find its place in the glass, fizzing up.

Sparing no other thought, the man opened his eyes back up, prepared to continue the conversation with the fine lady, “As I was saying, that lady of mine--” But, his thoughts lost their way from his brain to his mouth as he witnessed the woman’s expression.

It was a mixture of shock and disgust; her emerald pupils had gone dilated as she stared to the side, her mouth hanging open as creases were visible around her scrunched-up nose.

He had no idea what would cause her to make such an unwomanly-like face. He didn’t understand in the slightest. It wasn’t until the sound of pouring champagne stopped that he finally followed the trajectory of his eyes, turning his head around to look at the server who had graciously topped him off. Then, with a shocked grunt, his expression instantly shifted, matching the same repulsion, the bottom lids of his eyes twitching as he froze like a statue.

While they stood there frozen, a dark-skinned thumb covered with dry skin forcefully jammed the cork back into the bottle’s opening, resealing it. Casually they twisted it around in their hand to hold it by the neck and hoisted it over to brace it against their shoulder like it was some kind of weapon.

This was different from the behavior of a well-trained servant, but any hopes of them being partly trained disappeared at one glance at their appearance. A man who lacked any semblance of class, tact, or formality. He didn’t wear a suit, not a tux, not even a button-up. Instead, he wore a t-shirt with a tuxedo design on it. Paired with his white sneakers and black and white tracksuit pants, he was a travesty. But, to make matters worse, he came without combing his hair or gracing it with a brush. Instead, the haphazardly shaved facial hair on his face shifted around as his lips opened to a sharp-toothed smile, looking at the wealthy patrons.

But, what they observed was not a pleased worker’s expression.

What was on the face was instead a maniac smile, shrunken pupils paired with bloodshot eyes, and the involuntary twitching of the corners of his lips, an ominous air surrounding him as he looked at them like a crazed murderer.

Breaking into a cold sweat, the pair of elites quickly looked away from him, shadows covering their faces as they walked away hurriedly, evidently wanting to leave the situation as soon as possible.

As they left Tak behind, his smile swiftly melted away to a neutral frown, clicking his teeth in annoyance as they disappeared into the crowd. “Damn, still no tip?!” He seethed, shoving his free hand in his pocket, “I never expected all these rich pieces of shit to be so stingy….”

He let out a sigh, leaning his head backward slightly, “What the hell is the point of this job if I can’t get loaded off these guys?” he cursed under his breath before turning away in defeat, deciding that for the time being, his focus was best put on someone else’s pain and anguish.

“Wonder how things are going for her."

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage

LOCATION:

Port, North District

TIME:

July 1st, 2022 | Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1

PARTCIPANTS:

Elias, Zach, Taka, Yushui, Kairong(?), Hiachi, Tak, Sebastian

St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage

The sun’s glare shone down beams that grazed the water’s surface, skipping across the ripples of waves like fireflies as the bright gleam reflected off its surface. The vast ocean stretched far, disappearing over the horizon, yet the disturbances in the water that occurred miles away could be seen and felt in the vicinity every time a strong wave crashed against the walls that lined the dock and brushed against the hull of the massive cruise ship.

Its size was staggering, and the preparation for organizing it was even more astounding. And the number of people who were invested in it?

Completely astronomical.

It was nearly impossible to make out the virtual port from the many bodies on it, as everyone from different ages and walks of life gathered together to witness the newest assemblage of Amestrian wealth. All their chatter combined into a loud cacophony, blending to make a resounding white noise.

“Out of the way, damnit!”

A single voice broke through the chaotic incoherence, his annoyed shout piercing through the noise with his own brand of clamor.

“Watch where you’re walkin’, you broads!”

As it grew closer, it grew more pronounced and more easily discernible. But its source finally became apparent when a shoulder shove pushed the man through the crowd to stand at the deck’s forefront.

Wearing his usual black and white tracksuit and wrinkled white shirt, the nappy-haired thug finally got up close to take a look at the giant vessel, his head slowly moving upwards to take in its complete form, his eyes widening as his whole expression began to progressively soften, becoming more childish as he looked in awe.

“I-IT’S MASSIVEEEEEEEE!” He shouted, raising his arms, “It’s so much bigger than it looked on TV!”

Bringing a hand back down to bring a fist in front of his face, small tears formed in the corner of the man’s eyes as he wore an opened mouth grin, overcome with emotion.

“It’s finally here…finally, I get to have a win!”


He could already see it in his head…

A fancy restaurant with red velvet carpet, the pillars adorned with hanging lights and delicate art pieces. Numerous waitresses wheeled out carts, each carrying numerous cloches that hid plates under them. They wheeled out in front of him, each server lifting up the cover to reveal the platters covered with food as far as the eye could see. Crab legs and butter! Cajun grilled shrimp! Summer peach salad! Parmesan Asparagus and short ribs with mashed potatoes! The list continued, and Tak was prepared to gouge the whole menu. A bib appeared around his neck as he brandished a knife and fork, each gleaming.

“I’ll get to have cruise ship food!”

The view faded white as Tak’s mental focus shifted to another part of the ship; white lines were painted around the area to form a border around the surroundings, with people lined up to watch the ongoing event.

Tak dashed forward, and as the view shifted to follow him by the shoulder, the volleyball net in the middle of the arena revealed what activity he was partaking in. As he closed the distance, he braced his knees, crouching down slightly before exploding upwards into the sky in a jump that sprayed loose dust underneath his takeoff as his clothing rippled from the wind force.

He raised his hand overhead as a volleyball came over the other side of the next, his finger flexing wide as he bore a furious scowl on his face.

“OOOOOORAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

With a ferocious shout, Tak slammed his open palm down toward the ball with enough force to distort its shape on the impact, caving in its side like it was made of rubber, before the momentum finally spread through the rest of the ball to send it darting downward like a falling meteor, leaving a fiery trail behind it as it cut through the atmosphere to slam against the ground.

His opposition on the other side jumped forward, diving to try and stop the ball, but it was already too late. It slammed into the ground with enough force to spray stray splinters as it cracked the wood before the elasticity made it bounce back into the air and roll away.

As Tak landed back onto the ground, cheers rang in his ears. He crossed his arms with an arrogant grin, relishing all the attention.

“I’ll get to play summer games!”

The screen flashed white again, and he stood on the front of the ship, overlooking the ocean. He had traded his plain tracksuit for a more colorful tropical top, cargo shorts, and sunglasses.

Waterfowl cried overhead, their wings flapping as they soared beside the large vessel.

It was the embodiment of summer. But it was missing one thing.

Feminine giggles and tee-hees immediately caused his expression to perk up, raising his head as his mouth hung open slightly in surprise. His head slowly turned over his shoulder to bear witness to the sight of his dreams.

Numerous bombshells of women came running towards him in slow motion, their extraordinary proportions on full display in their colorful and revealing swimsuits. Tak’s eyes bulged out of his head as his focus zoomed in on their impressive assets, watching them bounce up and down in this slowed-down time as they waved at him.

“And I’ll be surrounded by all the juicy summer melons I could ever want!”

Finally, the end of the man’s lecherous fantasies came to pass as things returned to reality. All that stood now was him, quietly standing there as a thick shadow coated his face. Then, as his head rose to look at the ship again, the shadow faded to reveal tears streaming down his face, blood gushing from his nose and trailing over his lips to drip down his chin.

“And I get paid to do it too!”

Raising his arm to his face to use his sleeve and wipe the tears out of his eyes, he slowly dropped his arm afterward, brows knitting as a faint shadow draped across his forehead and eyes, a smile on his face.

“THIS IS GONNA BE THE BEST TEN DAYS OF MY LIFEEEEEEEEE!”

miki AriAriAbabwa Seaquill simj26 Coyote Hart QuirkyAngel

 

[Caffeine_Obsessed]

Matsuda Russo

CS Link

SCENE:

Coffee's On Me

TIME:

July 2019 | Pre-Arc 1

LOCATION:

Tiger's HQ, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Matsuda, Isobel

Coffee's On Me

Washing his hands, Matsu glanced to the man beside him warily. Was everyone in this building a Tiger? A gang member? He couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about that. After all, who in their right mind would feel comfortable in a building full of gangsters? With an exhale of his nostrils, he shook the water off his hands, making haste in leaving.

He followed behind another man that was walking out as well. His hands shifted in anxiety, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Despite Matsuda being tall, a lot of these guys were so much more built than him. Now, he wouldn't call himself extremely tall- but what he had in height only added to the impression of him being a pine tree in a land full of oak. Not that his eyes didn't catch sight of men and woman alike who exceeded him. Even those abnormally so. Shit, Matsuda was so lost in his head today. He knew it was a bad idea to drink all that caffeine earlier. Before all the shit went down at home. Fuckin drunk old man...

The duo eyed man sighed, his feet carrying him aimlessly through the rivers of people. Now that he was here... what exactly should he be doing? Tigers took up jobs or something right? That was surely how they cleared their debt, or for those more fortunate- earned their money right? His gaze travelled across the walls, looking for where most of the traffic went. The more traction, the more he would see the most important stuff he figured.

Spoiler: Tags

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