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

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celestine renee cadieux
SCENE:
blurred borders
LOCATION:
hartswan terrace, north district
TIME:
pre-arc 1 || october 25th, 2019 - night
PARTICIPANTS:
darius, celestine
blurred borders
For a moment Celestine worried Darius was going to leave her to die, but at the same time, she almost wished he had. After everything that happened tonight, did she really deserve to live? It was her fault they got into this mess. It was her fault that the fighting even began. She was too hasty, she should have tried to talk more, she should have tried to reason with them, she should have done literally anything else. Celestine hated violence and yet... she resorted to it without hesitation. It came so easy to her.

Perhaps this was her true nature and she was just fooling herself into thinking she was a good person.

Celestine had stopped fighting at that point, but unfortunately, it wasn't long before Darius came to her rescue, tackling the armoured woman and stabbing her. Celeste forced herself upright and scrambled away, grabbing the knife she had dropped and turning back to help.

Darius seemed to have it pretty well handled, but she could see the tears in his eyes. Pressing her lips together, Celeste made a decision. Approaching silently and quickly, she gripped her knife in one hand and used her other to shield Darius's eyes as she stabbed the woman. The blade met some resistance, but with a little extra pressure, Celeste was able to sink the blade deep into her skull. Right between the eyes.

Celestine twisted the blade just to be safe before adjusting her grip and kicking the now-dead HP off of Darius, the blade coming free as the armoured woman flew back into a wall and slumped over.

Sheathing her knife, she sat back and took in all of the damage that had been done. Tears filled Celeste's eyes and she started to laugh, but that laughter quickly morphed into silent sobs and she covered her face with her hands.

Moments later Celestine was fine again, wiping her tears away and taking a deep breath.

"Darius, I am so sorry." She swallowed hard, "This is not how it was supposed to go, and I... It is my fault this happened. You should not have had to do this..."

Celestine trailed off, her gaze staying locked on her hands as she did her best to stay calm.



WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
North Says No!
LOCATION:
Redwater High, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Passeri
NORTH SAYS NO!
"Snowballs down a hill? Heh, not exactly the kind of analogy I expected from you, but I can see it" Said Eric as he rubbed his neck with his right hand, his body still a little bit stiff from the previous scuffle. It was a relief to see the woman back in her more usual high spirits. The detective understood in just how much of a constant pressure she must have felt, having to juggle her busy life as a hard-working individual, being a public figure to boot, as well as attempting to use as much of her free time as possible to continue her philantropic endeavors, that is to say...Without even counting that one possibility that Eric was aware of. Ever since their first meeting, the man was able to tell that something wasn't quite right about her behavior towards the concert's incident, her insistence of keeping everything in secret. He's spent the last few months talking to people, gathering information about all sightings of the girl around the city, the people she's been spotted talking to, and even resorting to reading some whacky theories about her on the internet. The possibilty of Passeri Park being involved with the gangs of New Oasis was a very real possibility, he could see the pieces of a pattern. But without any definitive evidence on the matter, there was no way he could take action.

...Did he...Even want to take action?

Truth was, even though Eric prided himself in never letting his own laziness get in the way of his actions towards justice, he realized that he had found what he liked to consider a good friend in the idol, even if she was indeed a criminal, her actions and attitude where one of someone who was genuinely selfless. Hopefully, his investigation would eventually lead nowhere, that could actually help him sleep a bit easier at night.

His field of view was invaded by a sudden Passeri standing in front of him, a hearwarming smile on her face, and her words carrying a name which was a first as far as he knew. "Are you calling me a ball? How rude, I'll let you know I was on a diet until recently" He got off the wall, taking a single step forward, towards Passeri. "You know, a partnership sounds good and all, but it's also kind cold, don't you think? How about we go with 'friends' instead?" He raised his right arm up in the air, his open palm in display. "Come on now, give me five, it's part of the contract" He knew he was perhaps being reckless, and he also knew he ran the risk of coming across as ridiculously corny, but Eric was simply tired of the formality between them.


The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
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celestine renee cadieux
SCENE:
home visit
LOCATION:
celestine's apartment
TIME:
evening of november 19th, 2021 || post-arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
celestine, dante
home visit
When Dante pressed his cheek against Celestine's hand she gently brushed his cheek with her thumb, staying quiet as he spoke. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, but she did her best to keep her expression as neutral as possible.

To hear him put into words that he probably wouldn't change the way he acted in the field any time soon made Celeste's chest ache in a way she couldn't describe, but she understood. With a hum she lifted her eyes and met Dante's gaze evenly, "In a fight, I would much rather you beat me than kiss me."

Celestine kept their eyes locked, taking another deep breath to stay calm before continuing, "I genuinely mean that, Dante. It is easier for me to recover from physical wounds than it is to recover from emotional ones."

There was a moment's pause as she considered whether to say anything else or not before she added, "I have been thrown around all my life, I can handle whatever happens." Celestine managed a small smile and reached for his other hand, taking it in hers.

She went silent as Dante kept talking, eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he gave her the reassurance she so desperately needed. Tears pooled in her eyes for the third time that evening and relief washed over her, the tight knot in her chest starting to loosen. The hurt she felt didn't just go away, but that was something she could live with. Celestine wasn't sure how she would cope if she lost Dante.

"Thank you..."

That was all she could manage, not sure how to properly put her feelings into words. Rather than attempt to say anything, Celeste readjusted her grip on both of his hands, gently tugging him down so he was kneeling in front of her.

Celestine didn't say a word as she pulled him close and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, burying her face into the crook of his neck and clinging to him as if her life depended on it.



The Regal Rper The Regal Rper
 
Dante Aguilar
CS Link
SCENE:
Fighting A Wild Animal Seems Scary Until You Get Hungry
TIME:
April 17th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
New Oasis Zoo, Central District
INTERACTIONS:
Hiachi, Tak
Fighting A Wild Animal Seems Scary Until You Get Hungry

God It was one of those days.

The sun was up there. All the way up there. Just-risen and grand. As it always was. Hot, going hotter— mocking him, that piece of shit. What was it the first day of fucking summer? Why was it so high up, that bastard?

They had something going on in Central, that’s for sure. They must’ve. The sun was always bright and overarching as all hell. Dante didn’t belong here.

It was as if it had the first lick of summer to it. The bastard sun would reach out with its golden, wiry fingers; and like a selfish lover, it’d wrap its warm hands around Dante. He’d feel it then, its hot breath passing him, settling into his skin. And he’d wince, click his tongue, jerk his head away everytime he’d catch a ray of light with his bare eye— “Tch…”

He’d bring a hand out of his pocket, placing it on his brow to shade his already sun-weary eyeballs, tilting his head up — “Hrmn…” — The sun sat behind still clouds, heaven-bound, moored over the expanse of blue like it’d been anchored there.

And no, that damned thing wasn’t moving an inch from its spot. Not at all.

“Go fuck yourself…” — He mouthed, hoping that the sun could hear his trash talking all the way from there. Then he brought that same defeated hand back down to his pocket.

What a fucking day.

“Watch where you’re walking, ya damn brat!” — And the reason for him being out here sunbathing was standing right in front of him, snapping up at a random kid. Dante looked on with an undeniable look of raw disgust crisscrossing his face, the type you’d hold when gawking upon a car crash.

You’d want to look away from the horrible carnage, but the mind simply fixates on it.

“That kid was like…eight, or somethin’…” — Dante was certain, that child would have nightmares about Tak for the rest of her life — “Messed up…” —Alas, there was little he could do to mitigate. Unlike the beasts encaged in this zoo, Tak was a wild one. All he could do was pray to not be found guilty as accomplice for whatever madness they were about to get themselves into.

Ever since the whole incident with that god forsaken DVD occured, he’d been noticing certain patterns. The most mind-numbing, dumb shit always happened when he was around Tak. He wasn’t eager to figure out what it would be this time around.

With each second passing, regret would creep up more and more right behind him — “Why the hell did I agree to this…?” — Dante didn’t know whether it was a slip-up on his part, a mistake done in a restless night, or if it was in the way Tak had worded it over the phone; he’d accepted then, thinking the guy was giving away the tickets.

It’d been a while since he’d brought his siblings to the zoo, a while longer since the three of them had been together in Central— but now all of that was ruined. He was stuck here with Tak, for better or worse (likely for worse).

At least he wouldn’t have to bear it alone. As he watched the smaller girl at his side snap up to Tak, a little chuckle threatened to come out — “Pfft..!” — He couldn’t help the stupid smile that came across his face.

His legacy?

“Guess she hasn’t been around this dumb fuck long enough…” He thought — “Good for her…”

He hadn’t been around her long either. Today was the first time they’d seen eye to eye, but he’d caught wind of a rumor or few. He knew his main employer had an eye fixed on this girl, and that alone had him thinking that she meant business. Dante had been expecting something dramatic, someone imposing. What he got instead was…

A normal girl.

“…”

She was there at his side, dead quiet, like one of those little fish that stuck to the right-left of a shark. It was a breath of fresh, clean air in a way. She even reminded him of his brother, with how shy she made herself out to be.

At least she wasn’t a weirdo like Tak.

“Man, it’s always some stupid shit with you…” — Dante sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Tak started to complain — “Are you doing one of those fuckin’… Soliloquys—whatever the fuck they call ‘em? Thinking out loud like a drama queen.”

“We’re right here, girl. We hear you.”
— He blew on his nails; checked them, fluttering his eyelashes at him like a diva.

Dumbass.” — Dante drawled out that first half, hands going back to his pockets.

“And you’re right,” — He walked over to the poor trashcan that had suffered Tak’s wrath, drooping down to straighten it back up. He got up, wiped his hand on his pant leg and huffed. His tone had a gloom to it — “You can just find wild animals out there in the streets, this shit is torture...”

The sun. The crowd. Hell, even the company. None of it did him any good.

“Shoulda won that first-place prize and gotten us on one of those luxury cruises,” — He crossed his arms — “I’d be willing to take all this sun for the sake of that.”

He grumbled; his eyes wandered the crowd as if he were looking for something he hadn’t seen before. Something that could make this hell hole bearable.

Then he caught it, the indistinguishable sound of an ice cream truck and the horde of toddlers huddling up at it — “Let’s at least get us some ice cream…I’m fuckin’ melting out here.”

Without waiting for any feedback, he started walking — “And I’m not hearing anything, fuck you both,” — As he walked, a hand came out of his jacket, a black-leather wallet glistened in the seething sun as he held it. Like he somehow knew he was the only one out of the three with cash on him — “I’m payin’ for it. Free ice cream, c’mon.”

“Maybe they’re sellin’ that ☆PASSERI PARK’S ULTRA CHOCO HEART-BREAKER DELUXE☆ ice cream, or whatever the fuck it’s called.”
— He turned to Tak — “I’m taking the basic bitch flavor.”

He waved his wallet in the air, long steps toward the ice cream man, not bothering to look over his shoulder — “And you,” — Dante called out to Hiachi — “What flavor d’ya want?”


miki miki thebigfella thebigfella
 
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Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Return To Sender
LOCATION:
Hotel Gaul, West District
DATE:
Post Arc 2 | Night
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park
Return To Sender
The penthouse looked like the remnant dreams of a high school party. Still the lavish Hotel Gaul, but wrecked without mercy or decency. The furniture was knocked over, there was trash everywhere, and no amount of perfume could cover up the scent of alcohol and substance abuse.

Passeri was right—this could take a minute. It was hard to focus. The acrid fumes burned her nose and traveled up into her brain, ceasing the beginning of any rational thoughts.

Shut out all your senses and think—She had to think like a hidden camera. It would have to be somewhere that could catch a good angle, but still be discreet. Sometimes the mindset of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ was painfully obvious, and sometimes it was genius. It was all in the execution.

It was worth checking the ceilings first. There was lots of space for a hypothetical camera to cover, so the most logical point to stand from would be looking at things on the ceiling. Like the dining room hanging light—it looked like it had enough space to hold something, but Hiachi couldn’t be sure if she saw a camera or not. There were too many pieces of metal in the way.

So she climbed on top of the table and started reaching through the light fixture. Nothing of note yet. And that was her best guess—so now she had to look at it from another angle. She considered their target again. If he was careless enough to throw a massive party and leave the place unattended even after claiming to have crucial intel on an A-list celebrity, where would he keep his important things?

Personal rooms, probably. Hidden enough from the public, but not smart enough for someone who was looking. Like a bedroom. Hiachi started peering in rooms, looking for something that resembled a master bedroom.

The fourth door she went through seemed to have the right conditions. The rancid smell was more prominent, and the room looked like a herd had run through it. Even the dresser had been knocked over. But now was not the time to complain, it was the time to search.

Hiachi scanned the room, and her eyes quickly caught something. Strewn under a pile of clothes, the shape of a laptop computer. She walked over and pinched the corner of the laptop and lifted it from underneath the pile. This would probably help—even if it didn’t have anything on it, at least she found something.

Hiachi walked out from inside the bedroom, turning her head left and right for Passeri. Once she found her almost tripping over a weird woman-esque thing made from a mop (yikes), she stood in her line of sight and held up her findings.

“I found this.”



 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Hide & Seek
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
June 30th, 2022 | Daytime
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Keith
Hide & Seek
He was shouting after her, and the only reason she had to take note of it was that it sounded kind of far away. She was making distance—good!

She started bolting down the stairs. Running down them was awkward, though. A lot of short steps to keep her from tripping up. Since she was moving slower, she turned her head to the side and looked back. It had only been out of instinct, but…

…WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?

Instead of running after her, a pair of arms made of skeletal muscles were stretching at her, like her high school health textbook had come to life.

She had to think, and she had to think FAST.

She had her gun. And maybe a few weeks ago, she would have refrained from shooting someone. But she’d had one too many brushes with death at the hands of other gangs to start acting like she had the decency.

When her foot hit the bottom stair, she half-turned around. She grabbed the gun out the back of her shirt. Reload, aim—he was an HP, so the most exposed parts of his arm could work—fire.

The gunshot rang through the area, and Hiachi silently cursed herself. Gunshots weren’t common in the area, she could bet. She just attracted a bunch of attention to herself, potentially that of dragons, and all for what? For the chance that he would stagger?

Too late. What was in the past was in the past, and now Hiachi was b-lining it for the future, hoping she could make it there without being captured. She turned the corner, hopped the fence of someone’s backyard, and started running over the thin brick path.




 
Zulin
LOCATION:
Premier Motors, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Zulin, Gideon
Loose Exhibition

Zulin shrugged knowing that Gideon likely wouldn't be able to be of much help in that regard, but figured it was worth asking anyways, it didn't really matter much since that just meant they would have to be, more forward in their approach. That was until Gideon brought the nerf gun out, Zulin couldn't help but laugh a bit before decided to tease him "Wow, you actually brought a nerf gun huh? What were you expected to get into a surprise nerf war while coming here?" he couldn't help but chuckle but opted to take the nerf gun anways. Unlike real guns they weren't expecting a nerf gun to be very powerful so they had to anticipate things to say the least. The first few shots were a bit of a miss, as Zulin had to adjust themselves, but was soon able to hit the camera lens, and then went on to the next target, it took Zulin notably less tries as he got use to the distance and power of the gun. When Zulin was finally satisfied, he returned the nerf gun to Gideon then telling him "Be right back." before then heading over towards a office.

As Zulin made their way to one of the office doors, they made sure to take the path that the cameras wouldn't be able to see him, as they soon made their way into one of the office rooms, taking out the paper and lighter, Zulin burned the paper, and placed it in the small trash can allowing the paper to ignite everything in it, before he thin tipped it into the wooden desk so that it would catch fight as well. After that Zulin left the office room, leaving it open so that the smoke could come out of it, as they made their way back towards the Vehicle Gideon was in, he then shrunk in his seat so that anyone that looked towards the Vehicle wouldn't be able to see them. Before then asking "So Giddy, still got that key? once the place clears or everyone becomes too distracted, I'm sure you can take a guess as to what you should do." Zulin gave Gideon a playful smirk as they said that, knowing that the fire was going to spread throughout the room and it was only a matter of time before it starts to activate the fire alarm or the sprinkler system, which would likely force people out for safety concern.

Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet
LOCATION:
South District
TIME:
May 3rd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, Milo ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet

“He isn’t here for the arts…”

The dejected look on the blue-haired boy’s face was evident as Tak feigned that he was here to partake in the joys of expressiveness and creativity. His eyes lost all life as he looked at Tak for what he was, an idiot.

Noticing the man’s expression a shock mark appeared beside Tak’s head as he dropped the pose, accusingly pointing a finger at him, “Oi! What’s that face for!? Do you not believe me?!” Tak fumed at him, causing the much more meager man to raise his hands defensively with a bit of timidness, “N-No, it's just--”

Before things could escalate, the sound of tires scraping to a halt against the pathway. Both he and Tak turned at the same time to look at who just arrived. With nothing but a satchel and his bike, the white-haired, glasses-wearing guy was a lot more fitting for the ‘artist’ title than Tak ever could be.

The blue-haired man’s face promptly softened, his pupils enlarging into shimmering pools as a bright air of sparkles and glitter surrounded him, “Finally someone normal!” He exclaimed, before quickly rushing over to greet Milo personally, after all in the world of art, it was hard to find someone who shared your same interests! He wasn’t even weighed down by the large canvas back he wore!

“We haven’t been waiting long at all!” He stated, speaking on behalf of Tak as the messy-looking thug in question stood in the background, looking confused at the sudden change of energy, “My name’s Kelsey! It’s nice to meet you!” He forced his introduction on Milo without consent, an excited smile on his face as he clenched his raised fists, “It’s great to be able to work with other fans of Barker! I can’t wait to see what he’s going to show us!”

“Maybe he can show us how he does his brushstrokes in such a way that it seems to jump off the page!” Kelsey wondered, doing charades in the air as he acted like he was lugging around a massive brush and painting the surroundings, just to jump to forming a frame with his two hands, moving it around as if he was holding a camera, “Or maybe he’ll show us how to envision the painting past the boundaries of just the canvas, and present a whole universe in a single piece of art!”

“Heh, what idiotic shit are you spouting off? Who cares about any of that?”
A gruff condemnation of Kelsey’s assignment brought his theatrics and excitement to a halt. He froze in place for a moment before his head turned to focus on the third member of their group who had been completely forgotten about until now.

With his arms crossed and his back leaning against the large wooden door, Tak’s leaning down head allowed the mess of his hair to cover his face, just to tilt his head slightly and reveal a single glaring eye, “As if we’re just here to just learn about art. We’re here for much more…” Tak trailed off ominously, the focus of his leer shifting from Kelsey to narrow in on Milo instead.

“...Ain’t that right?”

A sudden gravity manifested in the surroundings, right at home with the abruptness of the question. The air had grown denser, only for a brief moment as Tak spoke to Milo as if they were kindred spirits.

Just from a glance, Tak had a feeling that Milo isn't a normal person. He was here for the same thing he was. Barker was just an afterthought in the face of that.

Unfurling his arms, Tak pushed himself off the wall. The uninterested energy he gave off before had entirely disappeared as he stood there with a renewed focus in his eyes. Just what was going through his head?

Whatever it was, it was visibly smacked out as the large weighty wooden doors flung open, slamming into Tak’s body and causing his eyes to bulge out of his head as his face was visibly mushed against it before the momentum caught up and sent him flying back with a trait of smoke tracing behind him as his body twirled mid-air before crashing into the ground, flopping across the gravel as he bounced like a stone across a pond before finally dragging to a stop, face-first in the pile of dirt that formed in front of him as he landed.

“Hello! Welcome to the Barker Estate!” A sing-song voice came from the now wide-opened gate as attention was drawn away from Tak’s battering to the cloud of dust that was kicked up as the door had suddenly opened, dragging across the dirt. Three silhouettes stood in a line, the one in the middle standing heads taller than the other two that surrounded them.

As the dust settled, their legs wearing dainty socks and the edges of a lace-trimmed black skirt was revealed, though the one in the center was different, evident in the tone and muscle on their legs that the other members of their group lacked.

Quickly the focus swapped to their heads, showcasing their different hair colors and styles as they all wore the same headdress, the left maid had her green hair in a ponytail while the right had her orange bangs raised across her forehead, and finally, the one in the middle having a duo of black pigtails.

As the debris cleared, the three women stood proud, their entrance basked in a bright light that shone from behind and cast a shadow across their backs. They all bowed in unison, “We are pleased to have you visit!”

Finishing their greeting, the green-haired maid was the first to raise back up, a huge smile on her face and a shimmer in her eyes as she raised a twin pair of V’s with her fingers.

token_1_1.png

“I’m Tisha!”







The orange-haired maid was the next to stand straight, compared to Tisha she had no smile, instead looking entirely emotionless as she looked at their esteemed guests.

token_2.png
“I’m Antonija.”


Finally, the focus panned toward the maid in the middle, the perspective having no choice but to raise across her muscular form to reach her face as she stood back up straight. When it finally reached her expression she winked on cue, a small star for charm popping out of her eye as she childishly stuck out her tongue, behavior that didn’t match her appearance.
token_3.png



“I’m Rosetta!~”






“We’re Mr. Barker’s maids! They introduced themselves in unison, as the light that illuminated them finally faded away, allowing the beautiful garden leading to the estate behind them to come into color.

“UOOOOOOHHH! BARKER YOU BASTARD!”

Tak’s sudden roar revealed he had recovered like nothing had happened, he had gotten back up and reached the outer wall, just to slam his fist into in rage as he gritted his teeth in frustration. “I could look past you living in a fancy house and having a nice garden! I could look past you being more successful and popular than I could ever be! But you have cute maids too!? That’s where I draw the line damnit! I don't care that one of them's ugly! I'm not letting you off the hook!”

As Tak continued to curse Barker's name with every punch he made at the wall, no doubt bruising his knuckles, Kelsey watched with a deadpan expression on his face, the color once again had faded from him as the corner of his mouth twitched, eyes closed tight enough to be replaced by a thin pair of lines.

“How did this guy win the contest…!?”



 
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MdLJ4uG.jpg

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝒜𝓈: 𝒩𝒶𝑜
Scene: Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things
Time: Pre Arc 1 || 2021

I am here: Streets of the Northern District
With: Tak

"When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely"



Nao knew she wasn't going to hurt Tak. The brick was for smashing glass, not for smashing skulls. But the fear on his face and the pleading for his life gave her a little thrill. He should be scared of her. She might not be as freakishly strong as he was, but she was still dangerous. As she brought the brick down on the vending machine, he raised his arms to protect his face. She didn't see much of his reaction to the now-destroyed machine, distracted as she was by tearing a page out of the magazine. She imagined he would be relieved that he hadn't been beaten to death, but when she looked at him he was even more terrified. His hand was pointed at the glass, and he was stuttering on a word, unable to get it out. "What?" she snapped, her eyes widening in surprise as he shot up and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Hey!" she protested, trying to shove him away. His face was crazed and his fingers digging into the bare skin of her shoulders. Now she was the one a little scared, although she refused to show it on her face. His eye was bloodshot as he asked if she had known what it was she had done. "Yeah, free magazines," she said flippantly. What did he mean the cops were the last of their worries? In Naomi's mind, the cops were always the forefront of her worries. She could handle most other situations on her own. But a whistle echoed across the alleyway, and Naomi slowly tilted her head to see past Tak's shoulder. Despite his fearful wail of they're here, there was no one there. But...the whistle didn't come from either of them.

Nao grabbed at Tak's biceps, Looking to and fro for where the sound came from. But as Tak's eyes looked upwards, Naomi followed them. Her fingertips tightened on his biceps as his fear spread to her. They were surrounded. At least a dozen, if not more, silhouetted forms were present on the rooftops. Undoubtedly they had been drawn by all the ruckus the two of them had been making in the alleyway.

On figure stepped forward, the moonlight illuminating him like a shitty Tuxedo Mask. An old man in mismatched, stained and torn clothes. He was clearly the ring leader as the other figures stepped into the light. All men. Naomi's heart felt as though it had stopped. As a woman, being surrounded by men in an alleyway was...well, horrifying to say the least. She felt Noam fighting to be released, determined to be anything but a woman in this situation. She turned her gaze away from Tak, correctly afraid that her eyes had turned bright green. She couldn't transform in front of a stranger. Her clothes would be ruined.

“IT’S FREE PORNO MAAAAAGGGSSSSSSS!” the leader yelled. Oh. Naomi relaxed a little, her eyes returning to their grey. They weren't interested in the two people in the alleyway at all--just the magazines. The rest of the crowd began to hoot and holler, and Naomi heard the sound of feet hitting fire escapes and trash cans as they scaled their way down to the ground. Tak, the brave man he was, turned tail and ran, leaving Naomi behind in the alleyway. Even if the men weren't interested in her but the magazines, Naomi didn't want to be present for the chaos and fighting that would undoubtedly bring. She rolled the magazine she had secured up, and placed it in her back pocket and began running after Tak. For the second time that day, she was glad that she had chosen sneakers and not heels.

She sprinted after Tak, on the fly making her muscles more lean like a sprinter's. Just until she caught up to him, catching onto his arm and hooking it in hers. "Follow me!" she said, desperately hoping none of the men had noticed she had taken a prime prize away from the machine. They hadn't gone terribly far from her car--once they reached it they would be safe. So she pulled Tak through the streets, before at last her eyes rested on their destination--her mint colored sports car. "T-that's my car," she huffed, pointing at the supra. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted two people coated in grime to sit on her nice seats, but she was pretty sure she had a cover in the trunk. She just needed to make sure they hadn't been followed, first.


((ooc: If it's not cool that she pulled them towards her car let me know and I'll edit it out!))
((outfit))
((Mr. Jones))


thebigfella thebigfella
 
MARKUS WEISS
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Jesper
CLAD IN GOLDEN DREAMS
In the quiet moments before his rendezvous, Markus thought, as he often did, about power. People looked at him and saw a King, but they were wrong. At the end of the day, everyone, even him, could be reduced to numbers and figures, line items on a spreadsheet.

Assets and equities. Stock options and commodities.

Markus wasn't King. Cash was King. It was the ultimate endgame. It commanded the means to break or build a man, to dictate fate and the course of the world.

Greed was good.

And so, when the time had come for Markus to twist a man until he bent, or broke, he did not hesitate. Because his greed was stronger, and his greed was his strength. Cash was King, but Markus was its faithful servant.

It was time.


Markus waved a hand and one of his goons, a large, bald, tattooed bruiser in a three-piece suit that was fit to bursting, ushered a nervous-looking lump of a man over to Markus' now empty table, forcefully seating him down across from the Tiger King himself. Markus didn't bother with pleasantries or introductions. He knew that the man recognized him by the way all the color seemed to drain from his face as he sat down.

"You know me." Markus growled, his voice low. "Y'know why I'm here." He had no patience for games, either, never one to beat around the bush.

Thomas Wainwright swallowed audibly, beads of sweat forming on his brow as his hands fidgeted nervously in his lap.

"I, uh, I do. Yes, I know," Thomas stammered, his voice barely audible over the din of the party.

"Good." Markus leaned in, resting a large forearm on the lily white tablecloth. "Then y'know what I'm about t' say next."

Thomas nodded, his face pale, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat. "The acquisition. Lionheart Industries wants Nex Corp. I understand."

"Smart guy... But that ain't the last word, is it?" Markus continued, his voice like ice. "You fuckin' freezin' me out? Huh?"

"We, uh, we have some concerns," Thomas finally managed to reply after a long, tense moment, his composure beginning to crack, as he couldn't help but dart quick, anxious glances around the room, searching for an escape that he knew didn't exist. "We've heard things. About your… organization." His breath hitched in his chest. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

Markus' face was a hard line, his eyes sharp as the muscles of his jaw visibly tightened. Though as a vein in his temple bulged at the insolence on display, the Tiger King couldn't help but crack a dry, knowing smirk. "You ain't heard the half." A man like Wainwright would never have dreamed of talking back to the King of the Albino Tigers himself if he had even the slightest inclination of how bad things could go for him if he placed a single word wrong.

But perhaps he was starting to get the picture. Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face turning an even paler shade of white.

"Y'know, what's funny is," Markus continued, "that it don't matter what shit you pull. 'Cause I'm already in. 'Cause you let me in..." NexCorp had been all-too happy to accept the Tiger's business when they'd been 'just' customers, back-alley deals and under-the-table tête-à-têtes. But now that shit was getting real, they thought they could pull back? Fuck that noise.

"What do you want from me?" Thomas asked at long last, his voice quiet, though Markus thought he heard a flicker of defiance buried somewhere deeper within.

Markus pressed a finger to the table, tapping it as if the contract were there, drawn up and waiting to be signed. "I want ya' ta' get. It. Done. Tonight. Yesterday. Right here, right fuckin' now."

"And if I don't?" Thomas whispered, though he already knew the answer. He added, seeming to shrink within himself as the words passed his lips, "And if the board—"

CRACK!

Markus slammed his fist down hard enough to leave an imprint in the lacquered oak.

"I want this deal, Tommy." Markus said in a surprisingly calm tone of voice for a man who'd nearly split a table in half with his bare fist a moment ago. But the cold fire was lit within his narrowing eyes.

"And if you n' that circlejerk of fucknut pencil-dicks you call a board try ta' screw me outta what's mine," he paused, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, as the table shuddered under the weight of his proclamation. Tendrils of cold emanated up from beneath his clenched fist as splinters started to fly. "I'll ruin your fuckin' lives."

Thomas swallowed again. Markus went on.

"You get up from this table, get on your little cellphone, call 'em up, and tell 'em that if they block this, that I will send men to their houses to kill their pets and fuck their wives, and it will never be over."

The room seemed to close in around them, the laughter and music of the party fading into a distant hum. Markus knew he had the other man beat. And so when, with a heavy heart, Thomas inevitably nodded, Markus leaned back, looking unsurprised.

"Alright," he said, his voice barely audible. "I'll do it."

"Smart choice." Markus sneered, waving for the bald man to come and collect the husk of Wainwright from his seat. He didn't want to look at his pathetic, sunken face anymore.

With that, the meeting was over. Markus was left alone at his table, once again, wondering how long he'd have to linger here before it was considered socially acceptable to get the fuck out of dodge. He'd gotten what he'd come for.

And as the festivities continued and the evening wore on, Thomas Wainwright could be found sat alone at a distant table, his head in his hands.

 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
Bedlam Blitz
LOCATION:
Whiteleaf, South District; driving...
Time:
Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2021; Early morning
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Leaf, Zach
Bedlam Blitz

Raquel had parked her motorcycle nearby and looked up to see Boltius and the others talking to an old man. From where she was positioned, it looked like they were harassing the poor man. Poor him. Didn't Boltius know not to bully the elderly? Though Raquel didn't feel inclined to interject either. Outside a few special cases, Raquel didn't get along with many Phoenixes. Being nearby Milo, who was an extremely special case, only made her sick in the stomach. So, she was content to lean on her motorcycle and watch everything go down.

Taking out a bar of jerky, Weiyuan always had a unique imagination; she took a bite out of it and looked up into the sky. "How boooring," Raquel said, nobody other than to herself. The only reason she came was because of Hector. Well, that may not be the only reason why, but it was primarily for Hector. Ever since their little raid at the casino, he didn't seem too alright as of late. Well, she couldn't blame him. While she had no real attachment to the previous Phoenix King, Raquel was surprised to hear of her disappearance.

Her phone buzzed, and she held it up. Gulping down the jerky, she spoke. "Arnold? I had an Arnold a few days ago if that's what you're asking about." It was a joke, but it would probably be misinterpreted by the other Phoenixes. Not that she cared anyways.

Raquel stretched and gazed off into the sky. Unless she was specifically called, Raquel wasn't too bothered by the mission. It was the same old, same old to her. Though since it was Hector's problem, it was her problem as well. Even if she had to work with that weirdo Milo, if it was for Hector, she wouldn't mind.

 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
A Pleasure To (Not) Meet You
LOCATION:
Raquel's Warehouse, South District
Time:
Pre-Arc 3 |
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Milo
A Pleasure To (Not) Meet You

Her reason not to throttle the man before she was slowly dwindling. It seemed that Milo took her slighted comment about telling him to die well. She supposed having thick skin was a commendable if not irritating, trait to have. It meant a lot less for either.

"Is that so." Her fierce expression faded as Milo confessed his innocence to her. He didn't seem like he was lying, but there was something about him that he wasn't saying. Oh well, it wasn't her problem. Hector was well capable of dealing with his own set of problems. If Hector could handle her, then Hector could handle Milo, whose hair seemed to be greying. Well, it was to her; bleach white was her least favorite color.

Raquel took a moment to observe Milo even more. Her eyes pierced him as if trying to decipher who he was as a person. Though all she could tell was that he was a shitty artist. That was about it. "Well, I invited you here so that we could bond. Since the Scarlet Phoenixes are known for their hospitality, I thought I would do more and extend that over to you." Though for what she saw, Milo didn't deserve any bit of her hospitality. If anything, none of the Phoenixes, sans Hector, deserved it. All of them treated her like a monster, so she might as well have embraced their belief.

"And I know the perfect idea on how we can get to know each other." Leaning back against her chair, she snapped her fingers in a dramatic fashion. A proud grin appeared on her face as she reclined back into her seat. Yes, she was going to default back to the old classics. It was a method that many people used. From fiction to real life, it was a foolproof bonding experience that would solidify their already brittle bonds.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
The Woodsman and The Duckling
LOCATION:
North District, Backstreets
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 |
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Mimi
The Woodsman and The Duckling

"Hmmm~ Okay! Follow me!" Sang-Cheol turned to see the woman smash something before following him. While he was curious enough to ask, Sang-Cheol wasn't since that would be nosy of him. Rebecca used to tell him to mind his own business whenever she seemed to be in pain. Perhaps, it applied to this situation as well? He was never good at talking with people.

True to his word, the lab was relatively close to their location. If they weren't under heavy rain, then they'd maybe have gotten there sooner. "Welp, here we are," Sang-Cheol said to his newly acquired companion. Gesturing for her to follow him, Sang-Cheol dragged the body and his battered body into the lab. In an instant, he was hit with the smell of disinfectant. While it was overpowering to others, to him, it smelled of home.

Soaked like a wet dog, Sang-Cheol turned to Mimi. "The clinics over there. It should at least have a new set of clothes. You should get some dry clothes. I have too-" The end of Sang-Cheol's sentence began to slur. He collapsed onto the floor right beside the corpse. A small pool of blood began to pool underneath him.

Though despite Sang-Cheol bleeding out, several people walked by. They didn't seem too perturbed at the sight of one of their co-workers bleeding right in front of them. It was as if they didn't register the fact there was a dying man right in front of them.

 
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

Blazing his way from the crowd in his half-sprint half-jog, it was lucky none of the wealthy populace was in his way as he b-lined it over towards where he thought he saw Hiachi. No doubt a few drinks would have been spilled as he nudged and knocked people out of the way. Despite having a clear pathway, just before he could close the gap, a pair of old ladies dressed to the nines with jewelry and feathers wandered by him, causing Tak to stop on his heels and come to a halt, watching them walk by with slightly miffed glare as they sauntered past.

When they were finally gone and his focus turned back, he no longer saw Hiachi, instead only the well-dressed pretty boy he had barely registered with was there before now. “Was I seeing things?” He pondered internally, gaze narrowing as he approached the man. Despite not knowing anything about him he already felt the negative impressions panging to the forefront of his brain, it was a natural bias that the nice-looking rich types usually were a pain in the ass to him.

So as he casually questioned Tak about his sudden and seemingly pointless rush over here, Tak turned his attention away from him to instead, lean to the left and right, even couching down and hopping up to look over his shoulders in quick succession in all attempts to somehow spot Hiachi hiding behind him.

“Coulda swore she was over here…” He mumbled under his breath, sticking his hands into his pockets as he turned away from Elias to close his eyes in contemplation. “Usually when I hallucinate women it’s at least sexy ladies in bikinis and lingerie with something worth looking at, not gloomy-looking girls with zero sex appeal and no assets,” He outwardly pondered, bringing a hand up to his chin, “I must be losing my edge.”

His eyes abruptly burst back open as he remembered why he was even looking for Hiachi in the first place! She was supposed to tell him about this event so he could tell the other guy and get a tip.

“Damn! How am I supposed to get a tip without her giving me the answers? Even if she sits at the back of the classroom she could at least pass the notes up to the front!” Tak expressed his frustration through a pointless school analogy before he shifted on his heel to once again look at Elias, he had initially written him off before, but at a time like this maybe he needed to think outside the box a bit.

“Oi, pretty boy,” Tak finally addressed him directly, glaring at him from out the corner of his eye, even though as far as he knew Elias was another one of these ‘esteemed’ guests here just to dine and chat over expensive food and drink, all pretenses of a server had seemed to disappear from him in the quest for his tip, the way he talked and stood was nothing but a prime example of what he was, a thug.

“Maybe you could tell me about this event? Seein’ as you’re all dressed up and all, I bet you're excited to be here, huh?” He dryly spoke to Elias, not even attempting to hide the disdain he had for people like him on a surface level.

miki miki QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel
 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Spotting the Wingless
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Nighttime,Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Jozeph, Celeste, Nona-Me, Keith
Spotting the Wingless
The view of the bright moon was cut in half by the sudden intrusion of an extending limb, a scarlet appendage shooting forward, reaching for a nearby handrail which was installed on a brigde that traveled across the road. Once a solid grip was managed on the metal tubes, the owner of the armed pull, increasing his previous momentum forward, launching him on the air at high speeds. Keith continued to acrobatically traverse through the streets of East District with similar movements, gracefully using all sorts of grippable urban surfaces to move forward, performing flips and spins while airborn as to control the trajectory, while such movements were not something the boy had honed since his early days, due to the long-time rejection of his ability throughout his earlier years, but yet they felt completely natural to him. You could argue that this was akin to nature, as he was now a hunter, and the city was his jungle.

Landing atop of a nearby tall building, Keith took a moment to look around the vicinity, he was not swinging around the area without a proper reason, after all. The Azure Dragons got word of suspicious dealings happening around their turf, unrecognized individuals seen making deals with a few select locals, all around the type of activity which earned the Dragons' suspicion and hostility, the evidence also most likely pointing to the Sable Serpents being the perpetrators. The mission was fairly straightforward: Find the Serpents and capture them, lethal force was permitted if faced with resistance.

And Keith oh so badley hoped for said resistance. His blood boiled at the mere thought of those murderous scoundrels freely running around, thinking they owned everything. He wanted to kill every single one of them, but in truth, and arguably for the better, he wasn't alone. From the device attached to his belt, Nona's voice came out, letting her fellow dragons know about her strange sighting. Keith could feel an adrenaline rush as he reached for his comm, placing it next to his face.

"Urumi here, understood, heading over there immediately" As he placed the gadged back to his belt, the boy sprinted to the edge of the building, leaping as far as he could, his arms once again thrusting forward and reaching for whatever allowed him to traverse, this time going at a faster speed than before.

Tonight, serpents were on the menu

gxxberkit gxxberkit WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten angel doe angel doe
 
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Callista Reinhart
Scene:
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage 🚢
Time:
Post Arc 3 - July 1st, 2022
Location:
The Open Seas (Day 0)
Participants:
Too Many To Mention
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
The sun was just beginning to set over the harbor as the luxury cruise liner sat majestically at the dock, its towering white decks glimmering in the fading light. A crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch as the passengers made their way aboard, eager to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

Among them was a stunning blonde woman, dressed to the nines in a shimmering red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her jewelry glittered in the light of the setting sun, and her perfectly styled hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, framing her face like a halo of gold.

"Callista Reinhart,” she said, presenting her golden ticket. The watchman inspected it briefly and stepped aside, stealing one last glance at the fair maiden as she stepped onto the gangway, heels clicking against the polished metal. She breathed in the salty ocean air and smiled to herself.

When was the last time she’d gone on vacation? It felt strange to be in this far-flung part of the North, away from all the noise of the Southern District. A voice within her nagged, ‘You're not here on vacation. You're here to run away from your problems.’ With a shrug, she replied to the voice inside her head, ‘Why not both?’ She could be on vacation while running away from her problems.

The entrance to the ship was grand, complete with towering pillars, gleaming marble floors, and a sparkling crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling like a work of art. Callista stopped to admire the high walls, adorned with ornate carvings and intricate paintings that depicted scenes of adventure on the open seas. Where have I seen this artwork before? She wondered, tapping a finger to her lips.

After a quick stop at the front desk to claim her key, an attendant assisted her with her bags and followed along quietly. Callista made her way up the grand staircase, her eyes drinking in the opulence of the velvet carpets and rich furnishings. A sense of purpose marked her stride as she headed to her stateroom, eager to put her things away so she could search for some fun on the upper decks.

The damsel could feel the excitement building inside her as she imagined all the adventures that lay ahead, the exotic destinations she would visit, and the glamorous parties she would attend. She'd bathe in the sun, drink until the break of dawn, and maybe find herself a nice man — No. Callista shook her head as if to brush those immoral thoughts away. I already have someone I like, she reminded herself.

As she sauntered into the luxurious cabin, she clasped her hands and marveled at its modern and regal beauty. Callista gave a nod of approval as she surveyed the room, with its king-sized bed, a private balcony overlooking the ocean, and a sparkling bathroom with a jacuzzi tub. “Wonderful,” she exclaimed, whirling around to face the attendant. “Thank you, you may leave my bags right there.”

The attendant set her bags down and wished her a fantastic trip, leaving her alone to contemplate her next move. Overwhelmed with so many options, Callista ventured out of her room and decided to roam around first. “The sights won’t see themselves”, she hummed as she passed by a blonde lady wearing a large hat, accompanied by a smaller woman who appeared to be her personal assistant.


 
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Elias Yumin
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
TIME:
June 16th, 2022 | Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Jesper
Clad in Golden Dreams

“You don’t know?” Elias replied to the question with a question, his eyes shining with amusement as he studied Tak. “This is a charity gala to assist those suffering from the great earthquake that struck Central District some 17 days ago. Proceeds will go to hasten the rebuilding of Central’s infrastructure,”

And Tiger pockets, but it wasn’t as if Elias knew for certain what Iori and Z had planned. It was possible that Knight Corp and Our Dream Entertainment partnered without any gang influence to make the event possible…but if that were the case, Elias wouldn’t have identified so many Tigers on the scene. The job bulletin in Tiger HQ, at least, had been quite clear–pry as much out of the New Oasis’ elites’ cold, clammy hands as you can.

The fact that he, and his family, were part of said elite mattered little.

“It's a terrible, terrible thing that God has done to the beautiful city of New Oasis,” Elias continued as if he were sharing gossip; As if he were one of his mother’s socialite friends. “Banks, radio towers, restaurants…I was in Central Bank myself when everything came crashing down.”

Shaking his head sadly, Elias waved another server–not Tak–over, picked some hors d'oeuvres, and plated them, his other hand still nursing a champagne flute. “Fortunately I wasn’t in Lower Central. I hear that was hit the hardest…”

He also heard a loud crack from a certain, not-too-far table and glanced briefly over to see Markus Weiss with Thomas Wainwright. It really didn’t take a genius to tell what was going on in that table. The CEO’s pale expression. The thugs that brought him over, knuckles cracking, said it all.

Though, just to be sure, the back of his hand casually brushed the back of Thomas Wainwright’s as Nex Corp’s distraught CEO stumbled past them towards a distant table.

Intimidation. Shakedowns. Threats. Elias expected nothing less from the leader of the Albino Tiger gang - the one who'd obtained his crown through less than scrupulous means at that.

“I also heard some figures were spotted doing their best to stabilize the failing pillars that keep Upper Central afloat,” Elias slid the plate of hors d'oeuvres beneath the white-clothed table as if feeding a stray cat. “We, and everyone at Central during that time, really should thank them if given the opportunity, but alas, people like my parents and myself really only know how to thank people with money…so here we are.”

Smiling sheepishly, and not bothering to explain why he’d put a plate of hors d'oeuvres beneath the table, Elias shrugged before slinging his arm around Tak’s shoulder–the way he’d often see Ron do–and pulled the ‘server’ closer so that he could whisper into the man’s ear. “The King of the Albino Tiger gang was spotted there, during the great Earthquake, as well…have you ever met him?”


@Haste @Lucem Elenion Aura Elenion Aura The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit miki miki thebigfella thebigfella simj26 simj26 AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
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PEYTON XIONG
CS Link
SCENE:
Crash and Burn
LOCATION:
Peyton's Old Apartment, East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || Two Weeks Later
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Jackson

CRASH AND BURN
The sound of someone speaking at his doorway caused Peyton to jump up in surprise. He should've kept one ear peeled at any footsteps near his room, but foolishly, he forgot. And now he was paying the repercussions... or not? The voice distinctively sounded like Jackson's-- more heavy, more dark, but unmistakably of Peyton's former coworker.

"Jackson! Woah! I thought I'd never get to see you again!" Peyton chirped as he turned around to face Jackson. His words gave off the impression that he had never betrayed Jackson and the Azure Dragons. And unfortunately, any remorse that Peyton would've felt was overshadowed by the excitement of hearing Jackson's venomous words. It was as if they were back to the day that they met each other, and the joy that Peyton felt knowing that he had a snarky coworker. If only Peyton had the empathy to realize that this was no longer fun and jokes anymore.

Perhaps if he dug deep within his mind and utilized his failing critical thinking, Peyton would realize just how much Jackson was hurting. But instead, he waved Jackson into his house, "It's warm out there! Come in before all the hot air gets in!"

In an attempt to coax Jackson in, Peyton added, "I have some otter pops left in the fridge if you wanna share?"


BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Bedlam Blitz!
LOCATION:
Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2022; Early morning
LOCATION:
Whitepeak, South District; Bolt's car
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Zach, Leaf
BEDLAM BLITZ!
Milo stepped out of the SUV alongside Boltius, stretching both arms high above his head, exhaling exaggeratedly as his muscles popped, releasing the tension that had accumulated within them during the long, early-morning drive. Though he couldn't shake off the feeling of mounting dread that had clunge to him like smoke ever since they'd set out on this pre-dawn pilgrimage... Neither could he throw off the feeling of concern for Bolt, who seemed all too eager to plunge headfirst into danger. Milo knew Boltius had a knack for getting himself into trouble—and for getting himself out of it—but considering whoever they were hunting had struck at the former-Queen, whose location was supposed to be a secret to all non-Phoenixes, Milo wouldn't put it past them to take a shot at the current Ace if one presented itself.

“Why does this feel like the beginning of a horror movie.”

'Probably because it is', Milo thought morbidly to himself, a chill running up and down his spine as his mind fabricated all kinds of horrors awaiting them, lurking out in the field beyond, beneath the watchful trees. He almost turned and said it out loud, but for the sound of a surprise voice coming out of the dark that spooked him nearly out of his skin. His heart skipped two beats before he realized what was going on, blinking as the light that had been shone in his eyes was cast downward.

While he was initially content to let Boltius handle it, in his patented 'wrecking-ball-in-a-glass-house' way, Milo's ears pricked up as the man's words became steadily more interesting the more he sputtered and spoke. Squinting in the dark, Milo's eyes narrowed in thought.

The puzzle pieces began falling into place in his mind, forming connections that were too important for him to ignore. It was just a hunch for now, but he figured it was better than nothing.

Someone named Armond was masquerading as the Phoenix King in this backwoods part of the District, and this person was supposedly contracting with the old man they were now dealing with for vehicles under false pretenses... The information that Raquel had pried out of their prisoner from the night raid at Shady's had led them here. All signs pointed to a link between this man, Reika's attackers, and the enigmatic Armond.

The more Milo pondered it, the more he knew it to be true: there was a possibility here, a chance to learn more about what was really going on, to unravel the mystery that had been laid out before him, but the window was closing fast. For his part, Bolt was working his hardest to slam it shut all by himself!

Milo knew he had to act before the door slammed in their face, stepping in before Boltius could say more and blow their chance to learn all that they could about this Pretender King, the so-called Armond, and his crew.

"Ah, right! Armond." Milo cut in, eyeing the man up and down, wondering if he might lunge at him if he said something out of turn. "You see, there was a bit of a misunderstanding. We are actually part of his crew. We were just testing you to make sure you're the real deal." Realizing how that sounded as he said it, Milo was quick to follow up.

"You know how Armond is. Always cautious. Heavy lies the crown, right? Anyway, he wanted us to come out here and make sure everything's going according to plan. We're supposed to report back to him, so could you fill us in on the details of your arrangement?"

In hindsight, Milo would have to remind himself that emissaries of violent crime-lords probably didn't speak so politely. Lessons learned for next time, he supposed.

"Or we could let him know that he'd better come and inspect your operation himself..." Milo threw in on a whim for good measure, the threat implicit. He was getting better at this in real-time.

 
Jessamine Darkness
SCENE:
THE LONGEST DAYS OF OUR LIVES
LOCATION:
Heiwana Sasayaki, East District | Theater
LOCATION:
Post-Arc 3 | June 21st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Ottilie, Jessamine, Dyne, Yushui
THE LONGEST DAYS OF OUR LIVES

She had chosen, for this occasion, to dress herself up for a more casual setting. She had no complaints about her usual gothic dress, but she was of the idea that in such celebrations, she would look fairly out of place. A black t-shirt with the name and logo of a band printed over the front of it, with a black hoodie draped over it, and a pair of torn jeans would surely allow her to pass by unmolested by wandering eyes. Besides, this was how she used to be, before she was inducted into the Loveless family’s ways. Not that she cared anyway. Both were comfortable to her, in their own unique ways. Flaunting her looks, good or bad, was, after all, of little consequence to her. Stare all they want, they could only wish they could attain such status and looks.

Today was special, however. It was paramount that she was left alone for the most part. Today was that day, if she was not mistaken. That idiot would probably be brooding somewhere, and his fiancee would not be with him. Fucking useless mongrel. Planned marriage or not, a partner must needs be a pillar for their other half to lean on. Such simplicity of a fact, and yet, she was not taught it. What use was she?

Jessamine Loveless tucked her hands into her hoodie’s pockets, walking past the myriad of stores that had opened their doors for the celebration. None of them were where he would park his sorry ass to brood in. Too crowded, too noisy. If she knew anything about him, he would choose somewhere that he could hide away in, amongst a crowd, but none of them would be chattering away in his ears. She fished out her phone, and opened up the map of the district on it. The theater. That’d be a good place. Dark, dim, with only the most respectable of clientele within. It was just around the corner, too. She shoved the phone, and her hand, back into her pocket, and made her way down the street.

It wasn’t like ones that her parents had brought her to. While theaters weren’t an establishment that she, herself, would frequent, this one looked positively barren, compared to the much more grandiose ones that she had been dragged to in other parts of Amestria. Still, the complaints would have to come later. There he was, looking everything like a pitiful dog caught in the rain. Absolutely fucking pathetic. She didn’t know what words she could use to cheer him up. Maybe it wasn’t her place to.

However, as long as she could help him get back up on his feet, as long as she could let him lean on her, as long as she could hold on to him, metaphorically, it was just fine.

“Make that two,” she slipped in her own entrance fee next to Hifumi’s, before she nudged him in the arm. “Hey.” She had so many other things to say, but as much as she was an outspoken individual, she found that her words choked up in her throat when she wanted to say them. She was so fucking stupid. She hated herself. Pining after someone who would never, could never look her in the eyes and say the words she wanted him to say.




BluEndings BluEndings Saturn_moon Saturn_moon Damafaud Damafaud Seaquill Seaquill
 
MUGEN
SCENE:
A Lion's Pride
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Tiger's Lair, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Fear and Dead Men
A LION'S PRIDE
Mugen and Ryutaro locked eyes, a thin wire stretched taut, until the latter broke contact. The former's eyes tracked him until he turned again. The air hung heavy around them. The man in the center of the room stood still and tall like a tower, his sight unbroken. The space was filled with the smell of ozone and the steady hum of a silence that screamed.

The Queen asked a question and the quiet was broken. The harbinger held his tongue. There was a time for words. This was a time for action.

As Eustass agitated behind him, his face bore no trace of emotion, of feeling, of humanity. His was a cold, indifferent mask. But beneath the surface of still waters lurked a thing made of darkness, a primal force of nature with eyes that burned like torches. It loomed large around him. It enveloped him, its presence overpowering. A savage beast that despised not the weak, but the lazy.

The content.

The complacent.

The stagnant.

The scent of their bloated corpses, unaware that they were already dead, suffused the beast with hunger and the inexorable instinct to hunt. The air was rank with it. It made the creature thirst for blood. It longed to feast on your guts and drink your blood. It sought to dominate, to subjugate, to educate.

Its presence clung to Mugen like a shadow.

His unbroken sight betrayed nothing of the storm that raged beneath. His eyes held naught but a haunting emptiness. Mirrors of the void.

Mugen turned, noticing a cracked door on the far wall. He stared at the man's obscured face.

Then he glanced at the shadows that held the one-eyed woman.

He had seen what he had come to see. It was time to leave. He had work to do.

He did not say 'goodbye' when he left. He entered the elevator that Ryutaro had exited and would let it close in its own time.

New Oasis was as Mugen had thought. As he'd hoped... In dire need of correction.

And correction was what he offered:

A declaration of war.

 
RYUTARO HASHIMOTO
CS Link
SCENE:
A Lion's Pride
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Tiger's Lair, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Mugen, Camila, Tak, Ryutaro, Welsha, Passeri, Dagger, Hiachi, Eustass
A LION'S PRIDE

The response was just about what Ryu had expected to come from someone like this newcomer. Silence was telling, as were mannerisms. Enough had been spoken without a single word being uttered as Mugen went to depart as quickly as he had arrived into the Tiger's den. Ryu smirked as the youth turned to leave, before taking a sip from his drink. This upstart was ambitious, aiming for the heavens themselves, and evoked a front of confidence to try to back it up. But the Queen had enough years under his belt to see Mugen for what he is: uncontrolled power. Without a bearing, or guidance, he was just a loose cannon.

That was his weakness.

"Good luck." Ryu then said aloud, both in a taunting and alert manner as he awaited the young man's reaction - if any. Would he take the bait? Or would he simmer under the surface still with bare restraint... just barely preventing an eruption.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Lily Lavinia
SCENE:
Fell and Cruel Hounds
LOCATION:
Actaeon's Rest, Central District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger, Corvo, Lily, Musai, Zach, Yushui
Fell and Cruel Hounds

“What…plan?” The horrendous, ungradual dawning of violence and lacking mental preparation caught Lily off guard, painting her face the look of a pigeon shot by a peashooter. If there had been a plan in place she could not recall any to dodge bullets. And now the client was running from her, presumably to her death, Lily yearned from the depth of her useless heart to go home. If only she had not the need of money, or the guts of a coward.

Regardless, the next moment allowed for no more fugitive thought. No more space for regrets. No corner for retreat. Where bloodshed had seized upon her she could but struggle, if vainly.

For several seconds, she reacted the only way a panic beast could, mouth gaping at the elevator door’ parting, and then like a beast, howled as the first metal fragment entered her flesh, drawing life in gushes from punctured flesh. A heavy crash brought the guns arrayed nearby down along with her fall.

She was dying. Bleeding.

And it would not be a sudden, mercifully quick death, for the pain was keen indeed, and echoed from points of impact with no sign of fading.

She wouldn’t die. But it did feel so. The pain was real.

Writhing on the gun-strewn floor, the sullen girl groaned loudly with no more concern for dignity or stealthiness. She was the type who would let the whole world know of her demise if she could.

As she lay there for what seemed a small eternity, the ceaseless barrages went on heralding her final rest. Yet on and on it went, and still the end came not for her mortal pain nor the thundering of man-made weapons. So it was that out of boredom as much as annoyance, she lifted her head and stared with great disapproval at her gun-tottering murderers.

Just shut up already.

She passed her hand over the bleeding wounds, truly wanting nothing more than to invoke her flames. It would be such a pain. In more ways than one. But if she was really going to die...

And yet she was not bleeding.

Just to make sure, she pressed her fingers over the ached spots, and in consequence, set anew the shattering pain. Unbecomingly she writhed again on the floor, kicking the guns about in a fit of agony. But alas it seemed she would not die from these wounds. It was not her first time being shot, to be sure, but she had expected somewhat more from such a dramatic entrance. And she blamed the quantity of pain that had overridden her more sensible faculties, if not for these faculties' lack of practice.

At any rate, Lily crawled to her feet, carefully, for she had no mind to endure more pain not of her own making.

And yet on her way to behind the toppled table, she realized her options were limited. Her opponents sported guns, which though she scoffed at not long before, was not a pleasant thing to suffer. Charging headlong at them like a barbarian fueled by rage and stimulating pain was out of the question. This kind of pain was more demotivating than anything, and rage of the useful variety she had not. But what she had aplenty was spite.

Poking her head bunglingly over the toppled table in a way no trained combatant would in a gunfight, she spotted the nearest author of her shameful display from before. And she thought for a moment of burning him with the painful white flame. But that would not be payback in equal measure. Nay, she would dress him improperly for a dramatic gunfight, and let him live to be ridiculed for it, if indeed he would survive this night. And so with a finger flick, aiming at the gunner with her bottomless spite, she burned their clothes. The garment over his body in particular: bulletproof vest, ammunition bell, black uniform, even tightly fit underwear she kindled all to a white flame as its forked tongue slithered over the body, yet touched not the wearer himself. So that in a second he stood even as he had been born to the world, over a floor strewn with shapeless fibers. One by one she began to attempt that very treatment on each of the gunners once the previous flame had died down, so long as no stray bullet had flicked her exposed forehead backward to further ignite her childish impulse.


 
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Leaf W. Natali
CS Link
SCENE:
Bedlam Blitz!
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2022; Early morning
LOCATION:
Whitepeak, South District; Behind an ATV Store
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Zach, Leaf
BEDLAM BLITZ!

The word marriage bounced around and hung in the empty space, and he inched forward, twitching like he wanted to add something else. Leaf fell quiet, as he usually did. He was tense enough with the mission at hand, worrying about his image wouldn’t help ease his nerves.

Now wasn’t the time.

His head was propped on his shoulder, half of him pressed against the door and window. He felt the movements of the wheels that clung onto the black tarmac below, a monotone drum, barreling down the onward road. Just below all that, the engine hummed a quiet, electric silence. Then there was the crunch of the bag of chips. Hector’s crunchy voice on the phone. Milo’s comment about holding your pee.

He was feeling and hearing a lot of things in that car, too many.

Through the windows of the car came a verdant panorama and expansive, lush vistas— the heart and soul of the world bared for him to witness. Deep down he knew he would've enjoyed this, be it another circumstance with other traveling companions. He would've.

It was relaxing, too relaxing.

Rocked back and forth, as if he were being cradled inside that fume-belcher, there was a sense of tranquil togetherness. Rough as it was. It got him thinking. Overthinking, rather.

The thought simmered, and it went on that way for another while. All of them together, yet separate. The five of them all felt the same rise and fall of road beneath, turns and bumps. They heard the same gravelly sound the ground made at the wheels. Shoulder to shoulder.

Maybe he really was overthinking it, but in some odd way, they really were like family inside that car. For now, this is as close as it got to that old song and dance the Phoenixes always gave. They felt connected. Or rather, he felt connected to them.

Either that,

Or maybe he just really missed roadtrips.

Who knows.

Who cares, really.

Call him nostalgic.

He leaned into the window, closing his eyes. Feeling.

Bolt wasn’t lying. It was peace, as in peaceful.

Wouldn’t last for long, though.

They felt the very last bump then, the SUV slowing down for the last turn, he heard the blinkers. Leaf wanted to keep his eyes closed for a while longer, but it was time. He sighed, swinging that door open and putting a step into the gravel.

Why does this feel like the beginning of a horror movie.”

“Don’t jinx it…”
— He mouthed, out of reflex, almost to ease himself. He looked equal parts uneasy and steady; Leaf’s duffel bag was slung across his back and 26’s katana rested at his hip. It wouldn’t have been a peculiar sight, if any of them had been in a mission with him prior to this, he always came exaggeratedly over-prepared.

He’d gotten used to all the weird stares, even being stopped in the middle of the street. If any coppers asked, it was just cosplay. It was always just cosplay.

They’d walked a little further ways in, and as they did, a static-y 90’s guitar solo came through out of thin air— it was Leaf’s phone — “You’re joking…” — He scrambled to get it out of his pocket, bringing it up to his ear and hanging behind the party.

“Yo,” — He started, flinching and almost freezing when an old man pointed a light at them. Bolt seemed to be handling it then, and Leaf was supposed to be just a grunt. Grunts don’t talk, they hang around in the back and look intimidating. With that logic, he continued — “I’m in the middle of something right now, call you ba..—”

“YO, LEAF!!!” — The voice rang out LOUD out of the speakers, almost making him drop his phone. He reassembled himself; why the hell was 20 calling him now? — “What are you—”

“Yo, yo, yo— man, wassup! Quick question, bro. You know Artemis’ Spite? ‘S that MMO we bought on the PS store. Right? Right. So, basically, I’m back at that one raid party—damn near soloing that shit by the by— and I just wanted to know what kind of stra..—”

“The fuck are you calling me for…?!” — He scream-whispered, hunching over and stepping further away, covering one side of his face with his other hand. Raquel was watching. Shit.

“I’m..—I’m in the middle of something right now, man…! Figure it out…!”

“Yeah, I’m in the middle of something too, man. Help me figure it out. It’s not my fault y’all still have signal up there in bumfuck nowhere, dawg. You're the only one available!”

He harrumphed, wanted to spit out something under his breath. Leaf looked back to see that the conversation with the old man was still going strong, Bolt was still talkative — “You’re not even supposed to be at that point ye..—”

He froze. It was then that cold sweat trickled down his face, washed over him.

“You’re using my account…?”

“Shit, maaaybe— ahaa~”



“I swear I’m blocking your ass after this…”— He sighed, shook his head — “Check your DMs, and don’t call again…”

He hung up on him, and as he began to make his way back, his fingers immediately danced across the screen in a mad flurry, stark letters forming in line up until they ended in the barest— yet the loudest— tap of his finger. His thumb kept pressed on the white void of the screen, annoyed.

Leaf gave him the whole spiel. Jump over the slam. Kite the raid boss for the rest, finish it off with the 400MP spell. Easy game.

📱 - “dumbass” — he typed

📲- “aye. thankyou babe”

📱 - “fuck u”

📲 - “youre so mean </3

He came back with his arms slumped by his side, a look of defeat over him. He’d caught most of the convo from afar. Something about an Armond, something about some ATVs. Nothing good. It was when Milo started speaking up that a lightbulb lit up above his head, he came back down on his phone screen.

📱- “ask 37 if he knows something about an armond. phoenix business”

A huff of breath escaped him, maybe there was more to this than what was at plain sight. He was looking for whatever he could fish out of what he’d already been given. Like Bolt said, they’d be approaching it as they figured it out.

“Is he acting?” — Leaf looked on with stern, roughened eyes. In an instance. Like he’d just switched gears. There was something evil about taking advantage of an old man like this, moreso with the way Bolt had been talking to him; he looked shaken. Milo had the right approach though, that he couldn’t deny. If it helped them figure out what was going on, then he’d bear it. As painful as it was to hear the old man stammer in his own words.

“Let me show you how it’s done…” — He sighed, psyching himself up, getting into character. If Milo wanted to play that game, he oughta play it the right way.

“You’re being too nice.”

“Oi, old man,”
— Leaf stepped up. His voice was rough, cold, and though he didn’t quite look all that intimidating in his physique; the look in his eye spoke volumes. It had an authority to it — “They gave you a deadline, didn’t they?”

“Then cut the bullshit and get on with it. All them sob stories mean fuck all.”
— He barked at him, indifferent — “If you don’t have ‘em ready yet, then you’re playing us. Simple as. We don’t do business like that.”

“If you’re not then go ahead, refresh my memory for me. What was the deal?
— He inched a little closer, eyeing him down — “You defend your case well enough and we might end up giving the earful to someone else instead.”

“We’re giving you a chance here, pops.”
— A look of sorrow would’ve crossed him then, but it only came as a small tick in his left eye, barely a giveaway. It hurt him down to his core everytime he opened his mouth to speak.

“Armond sent some goons here to strike a deal with you, didn’t he? Tell us about it.”

There were a dozen variables to it. But from the way he’d spoken to them, the old man probably never saw eye to eye with this ‘Armond’ person, that was Leaf’s hunch. He’d played his cards, now he wanted to see.

Would the old man give a coward’s answer, would he bark back, or would he yield?


 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Sweet Talkin' Woman
TIME:
December 22nd, 2021 | Pre Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Dollhouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger
Sweet Talkin' Woman
Subtlety didn't count for much in a room the size of a shoebox. Even if she'd only been D-List at best, as an ex-celebrity, Lisette had already come to terms with the death of her privacy. Anybody in the business understood that the moment some greasy fanboy decided that you were his oshi, you'd officially kissed your private life goodbye. From camera flashes to in the bushes, to shadowy men at the end of the street, there wasn't much left that could phase the ex-idol. The tides that'd washed her up had, in turn, washed away whatever specks of innocence she had left.

Or at least, so she'd thought. There was a first time for everything, and this, believe or not, was the first she'd been broken in on mid-act. Lisette's eyes went wide, suddenly fixed on the glint of Dagger's eponymous tool, and she very nearly bit down on something that she definitely shouldn't have.

"Now hold on a moment!" A hushed, but familiar voice complained from behind the creeping door. Lisette had always had a strong memory, so it would've only taken her a moment to put a face to the inappropriately bright timbre, had the second voyeur not so swiftly revealed themself.

"What are you looking-?" Her client, who had been blissfully oblivious until now, caught on only eons too late. He traced her gaze, which he had only just now noticed had shifted from the doe-eyed look of attraction that she wore around his type, to wide-eyed surprise, just in time to see his vision eclipsed by a wall of blazing pink as one of Passeri's constructs rocketed into his head. There was a dull thack as his head snapped back and unconsciousness quickly took him.

"Are you insane!?" Passeri, who Lisette recognized even through the face mask, whisper-yelled at the other woman, who she immediately shoved deeper into the room. By the time her client's body had nosily fallen to the ground, which Lisette had only barely managed to avoid being buried under, the door had already been slammed shut.

"Baker!?" Finally liberated, Lisette's voice immediately finally the shoebox bedroom. "What are you-? Why are you-! Who is-!?" She looked towards her limp- now in two ways- client, then the glowing pink cube that had knocked him out, then the wolfish woman with the gun, and then the worst of them all, Passeri Park.

"You've got ten seconds to explain this before I scream." She fixed her former partner with a stare, just a few furrowings of the brow short of a glare.

"I-" Passeri scrambled for the words she needed. The silver-haired woman had always been good at talking, Lisette knew that, which was why she also knew that putting her on the spot like this was the best way to get her to cut the bullshit that she, surely, would have spouted given the time.

"I, no, we're here to help." Passeri nudged Dagger forwards. Back me up. Or maybe just drop the gun. She hoped that the militant woman would pick up on at least one of those hints. "You're not here because you want to be, right? We're here to-"

"-Get me out?" Lisette's almost-glare-stare relented. She eyed her client again, and then took a seat on the barely-made bed that he'd been so eager to get her into. It creaked noisily under her weight. Apparently, that was supposed to be a feature. "Yeah. That figures." It'd been five years, but it looked like not much had changed. She was still carrying around that savior complex. There was more prying she could've done, but for now she was fine with being swept up in her ex-partner's will. She knew how much of a fool's errand to was to argue with her.

"I hope she's paying you well for this, Miss." She commented as she looked Dagger over. Grim. Weary. Dangerous. Lisette raised a brow. She certainly wasn't the sort of company that Passeri typically kept. A few questions bounced around her mind, but she kept them restrained. Knowing less was probably for the better.

"And I hope you've got a better plan than just peeping on me, Shortcake." There was a name that Passeri hadn't heard in a long time. In the past, she'd hated it, but now it was a welcome change from the other name that Lisette had spouted a moment ago. She gave Lisette a look of silent thanks, and hoped that Dagger's usual veneer of apathy would keep her from noticing her earlier slip-up.

"I wish I could say yes... But, um, things ended up moving forward a bit more quickly than I anticipated." Passeri stared a bullet into Dagger. She wasn't too bothered, since things hand ended up going smoothly, but going in guns blazing like this really wasn't her style. "Do you have any ideas on how we can get out of here? Preferably without any violence?"

Preferably. There was a change from the woman she'd known.

"Doubt it." Lisette commented, even though the question hadn't been directed at her. "This place has bouncers out the ass. Not just the obvious ones either. Some of them dress up as customers and just loiter. People have a hard time getting it up when there's a big dude in a suit looming around every corner, you know? Gotta be about ten... Or twelve dudes on tonight. Doubt you can sneak past all of them."

Lisette leaned over and procured a cigarette from a bedside table, which she promptly lit.

"Hope your friend is as good at hitting people as the knife and gun suggest, cause I ain't punching anyone tonight." She took a deep, tired drag of the cigarette. She doubted that Passeri would, either. "So you're gonna have your hands full."

 
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