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

[ATurei]

Lily Lavinia

CS Link

SCENE:

Tigers B-side: Takes One To Know One

LOCATION:

East District, 24-Seven

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Lily

Takes One To Know One

“What’s…wrong with me, eh?” Lily cocked her head at the frightened girl’s withdrawn form. For a moment she appeared to think on it, then upon coming to comprehension, she gave a smile. It was the vague, absent-minded sort of one who’s dwelling in the realm of some far-off pleasant memories. Now Lily could afford no more than that smile and some senseless mumbles when an untold number of trains of thoughts at once collided and crashed her already dazed brain. So she gave the girl such a half-lidded look and an unnatural smile. And said foolishly, “What exactly isn’t wrong with me?”

Then she dwelled on these words that had solidified her scattered senses. It was not so easy to offer a concrete answer of one’s being upon such a sudden notice. And Lity misliked dwelling on it for too long. Deep thoughts are but unhealthy sorts, best taken in doses carefully portioned even for the healthy of mind, a class of humans to which Lily does not quite belong. “Well, to start with, I have never cared about doctors in my life, see. They ask such troublesome questions, and give such stupid concerned looks… Long story, so don’t mind it! I just don’t care about the doctors, they already have their drugs! Ya okay though, buddy, you look like you just saw a ghost. And yet you look like a ghost yourself! A short, ugly ghost! Haha!”

“Oh,” she slapped her forehead, with so staggering a force she did stagger backward ever so slightly.

That’s no way to talk to a customer, Lily! she reprimanded herself. Never quite charming a person, nevertheless she had some little ideas of an ideal saleswoman, if hyperbolized and warped by the unfavorable environment of her living – these swamps and pits they call the north district. The fake smile cracked again, and she took out one of the plastic bags in her jacket pocket at last, dangling it near to her face full of pretense as though luring a drug-addicted cat into a peck on her cheek.

“See what I have hereeee! This little good time I spoke of! I promise one bite of it and you will forget right away your dull face, or shortness, or shitty life, or whatever ya wanna forget about! Nice, innit?”

In truth she never had never been told the exact usage of these substances while doing the transaction with the original owner of these packets. She had wanted but anything. It’s drugs, what else do you want?

And having said the pitch she seized hard the fright arm of her customer, preventing escape. A firm handshake, often they say, is vital to a successful deal. Not quite a shake but she did involve hand, did she not?

miki

 

[ATurei]

Lily Lavinia

CS Link

SCENE:

Test Trial

LOCATION:

North District, Backstreets

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Lily

Test Trial

Lily wrinkled her dull face in disgust at Sang-Cheol's description of the deadly drug.

“Ew,” she said, “that’s what jellyfish are: eww.”

Slimy creature, the stuff of nightmares. Even distilled down to liquid she mistrusted anything to do with that shit. But she had swallowed worse things in pursuit of money, to wit: her shame.

“I could charge extra for this you know, but I’m gra…OUCH!” The needle had already entered her flesh.

“Anyone ever taught you to ask a lady first, huh?”

Well, she was not quite a respectable lady. But that’s beside the point.

Upon the man’s announcement of a second shot though, she was ready to protest. Only she could not. Her tongue was held by a mysterious force, and there was a great strain and weird sensation on the tips of her digits. And when at last the man interjected her with doubly the unknown substance of another variety, her already strained mind was pushed to the limit of sanity. Her body entire jolted upward, her spine arched, and like lead, she fell unceremoniously, face first on the floor. Dilated pupils took in the tiny dust upon the sterile floor as whitish froth issued from the corners of her clenched mouth.

Mostly by instinct but also the last remaining sliver of consciousness, a pure black flame set forth on the woman’s body, and leaped to all over her furthest extended limbs in one instant. It absorbed all light from discerning what machination was playing out on her body. And when at last with a quick flick the flame withdrew to the hidden abyss from whence it came, she emerged alive.

Lily was alive, and well, though with still maddening eyes. In her head was not the thought of the test trial, or a summary of the experience to give the man as due to her job. Nor did she think of the payment for which she had gone through great shame and dullness to attend this session. Nay, she thought but by the rough sharpness of her gnawed nails, the snapping force of her white teeth, or whatever might her slight frame entailed at the moment.

So it was that she sprang up from the floor as though thus far had been a coiled viper in wait, going straight for Sang-cheol's neck, baring her teeth, sending her nails, her whole body at it.

Spoiler: Tags

Misuteeku

 

[Saturn_moon]

Ottilie James

SCENE:

Post-Arc 3 [Walkies ("Dog" Walkers Needed)]

LOCATION:

Silva Residence, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Nero, Silva, Nicole, Renjiro, Ottilie

Walkies (“Dog” Walkers Needed)

After much finagling, Ottilie was finally freed of the stuffy plastic cage that had been her hazmat suit. A rush of cool air hit her skin offering relief she didn't realise she needed. Once again, Nero had been the first to come to her aid. If Ottilie had to use one word to describe her friendship with Nero, it would be paradoxical. They were two wildly different people who in theory shouldn't be able to get along but somehow did. She recognized that this was largely credited to Javi who has had to put up with all her "quirks" (as her mother would say) since the day they met.

She was eleven when she first met Nero at the skate park. Yes, the skate park. Understandably, this is a rather difficult concept to fathom even now. Clarice, afraid that her daughter who only ever wanted to spend her time reading was not getting the exercise she needed, had gifted Ottilie a skateboard on her birthday and convinced the girl that if she learned how to use it, she wouldn't have to take the bus to and from school. Ottilie never said anything but Clarice had guessed she wasn't having such a great time on the school bus after finding chewing gum in her daughter's hair for the umpteenth time. In hindsight, a bicycle might have been safer and smarter but for whatever reason, a skateboard was what Clarice had chosen.

The next day, mother and daughter walked hand in hand to the skate park near their home. Armed with knee guards and a bright pink helmet, it went about as well as one might imagine someone with the athletic ability of a sloth could go. Which is to say, very badly. Even as a child, Ottilie rarely called it quits. However, between the aches and bruises blossoming all over her body and the sniggering group of teenage boys in the corner, she was about ready to go home and chuck the skateboard into a corner of their garage, never to be seen again. That had been the plan until a boy no older than she, wearing an outstanding array of colors and a blinding smile came up and offered to teach her. That boy was Nero. Not too surprising seeing as the last two paragraphs have been working up to this.

Nine years on, she had been fortunate to find new friends who shared her academic interests in the likes of Hiram and Karin. Regardless, Javi would always be the boy who had been kind to her when it was so easy for him to be mean. And he would always be the first.

Brushing away the pink bangs plastered to her damp forehead, Ottilie hoisted the suit around her waist and strode over to where Rocco was perched. "I'm sorry I made Nero put you down." She apologized just loud enough for the owl bear to hear while giving him two gentle pats on his head. Laying on the floor next to the couch Marisa had been seated before her sudden rapid exit was a grey backpack with several animal-themed patches embroidered onto it. Holding it up, she addressed the group, "I think she might have left this behind."

Elenion Aura Doctor Llamabean @Beann @Infab

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

Living in the Shadows

TIME:

Nighttime, Pre-Arc 1, June 10th 2020

LOCATION:

Falcon's Perch, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Helva

Living in the Shadows

Charlie's sense of fear kicked into high gear as the criminals now presented themselves with an hostile stance. He wasn't worried too much about facing one of them, but the three at the same time? There was no way he'd be able to take them with how little combat experience he had, assuming they were all HPs, and considering what they mentioned about being part of a gang, that was by far the most likely scenario.

Then, the customer behind him stood up, slowly walking towards the presumed leader of the trio, Charlie wanted to voice his concern, and shout at the girl to stop, that the danger was too high, but something about her simply...exuded confidence, not a single trace of fear or doubt neither in her face nor her movements. Such strong was her aura of determination that the boy simply found himself unable say anything.

And then, conflict broke out, the girl went into the offensive with a surprise attack, and soon after, the criminals started to retaliate. Charlie understood that it was his moment to act, his body even being one step ahead of his mind. Before he knew it, he already broke into a sprint, intercepting the man with the dual knives with a tackle. As they conected, Charlie wrapped his arm around the criminal's waist, lifting him off his feet as he continued to charge forward. The waiter had but one main goal in mind at the moment: To keep the customers as safe as possible, and with such wild swings with deadly bladed weapons, a simple misstep could mean a life being taken. He kept the momentum of his tackle going, steering his charge towards the sword-wielding man. He was fortunate that both man had their attention diverted towards the black haired girl, as he was able catch them both inadvertedly for the most part. Wrapping his other arm on the other person, he continued forward, smashing the restaurant's entrance door open with enough force that one would wonder just how did the glass in them didn't shatter. Once outside, he threw his passengers out, the swordsman landed cleanly on his feet, however, the other one made a pirouette on mid-air, Charlie could feel a strong pull on his wrist, an invisible line cast a gleam under the moonlight. The man had used his string ability to tie a bond between the two, and pulled on the string to propel himself towards the waiter, blades ready to strike. Charlie was able to raise his arms and catch the blades, his tough skin being able to resist the blades' advances, and then retaliated with a front kick, the criminal was able to mitigate the damage by predicting the move and backstepping.

Charlie raised his arms once more in preparation for their following attacks, however, his mind was still distracted by the thought of the girl being left alone against that imposing menace of a man. He hoped that his gut feeling of trusting her was in the right place.

"If you guys won't leave, then I'll just have to beat some sense into you" He spouted, a bold claim that he only half-believed to be able to achieve.

Peckinou

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Zachariah C. Locke

CS Link

SCENE:

Bedlam Blitz!

LOCATION:

Whitepeak South District - Behind ATV store

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2021; Early morning

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Leaf, Zach

Bedlam Blitz!

So no plan. Just a simple reconnaissance job. Tossing the remainder of the chip he’d snagged into his mouth, Zach licked his fingers as Bolt parked the SUV behind an ATV store. It worked for him since reconnaissance was his, and his potential’s, specialty.

Darkness wasn’t a problem for him either.

“Honey, if you think this is horror, just wait until you meet Little Red~” Climbing out of the old vehicle following the kids, who were still quite visible to him despite the early morning darkness, the pink-haired, sunglass-wearing man sat himself on the hood of the car as an older guy approached with a flashlight.

The ensuing conversation was just too much. “Pffft-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Armond?? King???”

Zach honestly didn’t care which of his fellow Phoenixes grabbed the crown in the end. The caveat, of course, was that they had to be a Phoenix.

Nobodies that got themselves kicked out didn’t count; Might as well just name a random bird on the street king.

Milo and Leaf stepping in only made him laugh harder. Shaking his head, and clutching his stomach, Zach wasn’t exactly in a position to make conversation so he left it to the rookies to do the talking. He wasn’t blind to what they were attempting either, so Zach did his best to stifle his sniggers.

His best.

Coughing, Zach reached into the window of the SUV for a water bottle. Only after several gulps did Zach manage to settle somewhat, though his stomach still hurt. He waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, what they said,”

Having no desire to play ‘Armond’s stooge, but no desire to ruin whatever the rookies were planning either, Zach simply crossed his legs and watched the kids, the ones who would be carrying the gang in the future, in action–their respective strategies. Milo was sharp like a snake, quick to weasel his way into enemy ranks. Boltius was honest and frank. The contrast between friends was startling, but not unheard of. Vulken and Markus. Meirin and Jun. Light and Shadow. Opposites complimented each other in many ways and provided a much needed balance, provided they both aimed for the same goal. Zach related more to Milo. Therefore, he kept a closer eye on Milo.

Some nobody claiming to be Phoenix King wasn’t too much of a problem unless they created a big fuss–like attacking the comatose Queen–but their actions ruined Phoenix reputation all the same, especially if civilians or newer Phoenixes believed them.

Armond would have to be dealt with.

Doctor Llamabean WhiskeyMarten Elenion Aura Misuteeku @Astrylan @Haze-

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman, Milo "VIRTUOSO" Nagisa, Gideon "EVIELLE" Gray

SCENE:

We Who Remain

TIME:

Arc 3 — May 31st, 2022

LOCATION:

Lower Central

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Bandy, Milo, Gideon, Jericho, Ashley, Callista, Raquel, Faelan

WE WHO REMAIN

Boltius thought he was running. He blinked and the world changed, and suddenly he was walking. Or was he? Everything spiraled. The ground turned upside down and he felt the sting of his tongue clamped between his teeth.

How much time had passed?

Everything ached and buzzed and trembled—No, the earth trembled, not him—adrenaline dipping and surging as he forgot and recalled the situation over and over again. Where the fuck am I? He was back on his feet.

Time was a blur for the injured Ace as they raced—he and Gideon, alongside the others—out of the quaking district, the world around them succumbing to utter chaos and destruction. Moving his tongue around in his mouth, he found the grit of dirt and spat blood with it, challenged for balance but steady by the support Gideon provided him.

He didn’t know how long an earthquake could last, but he knew his consciousness was waning.

Staggering to a halt, Boltius leaned his head on Gideon’s shoulder and groaned, keeping an arm around him. “I think I’m gonna be sick…” Blood collected at his feet. Seeing it, he blinked and shook his head, dazed, “Wh- uh-... Am I? Am I bleeding?” Indeed, he was, and he’d lost a lot by now.

“You dumbass, of course you’re bleeding,” Gideon said through gritted teeth. He wasn’t angry at Bolt; his harsh words were more of a testament of how his ideal “dislikeable” persona still shined through even when Gideon was distracted. “You were penetrated by two rebars. I’d be surprised if you weren’t losing blood.”

Along the way, Gideon had found a fallen metal pipe and used it as a walking crutch. He winced whenever he put any sort of weight on his broken leg. Despite the extra weight that came from Boltius leaning on him, Gideon refused to shrug the man off. He was in worse shape than Gideon was. And all because of his foolish plan.

The two of them bobbed and weaved through the maze of fallen rubble that made even the more familiar parts of Lower Central feel foreign. The ones who were unburdened by the injured had already fled further on, whilst those who were tending to the wounded pulled their comrades parallel to Gideon and Bolt. All the while, Gideon pushed off the terrifying thought that the police were likely right on their tail, ready to leap out and take them away.

“Don’t you dare give up right now,” Gideon told Bolt. He was worried for Bolt. Gideon was similarly injured, burns and shrapnel shredding his anti-government T-shirt, but Bolt was at danger of keeling over and not continuing. And Gideon was terrified at that possibility.

Meanwhile, in the bowels of the crumbling Central District, a little sketch fluttered toward Gideon and Boltius on haphazard wings. After it came a horde of scouting insects, each imbued with a semblance of life, delicate lines and bold strokes of chalk and ink now fluttering through the air as if plucked from the pages of an apocalyptic fairytale.

Shortly behind that, Milo himself clambered over a hill of wreckage and spotted Gideon and Boltius down below in the valley of ruin. In a frantic daze, the artist skidded himself down the side of the sheer face of what had once been the facade of a bodega. As he approached, the sprites he'd drawn came to life even more magnificently, buzzing with a purpose that mirrored his own.

His heart was in his throat as he saw the state they were in. Without hesitating, he went to work assisting in any way he could, as the words, “I found you,” fell breathlessly past his lips.

But Boltius was out of his head—no acknowledging any who or what that rushed to his and Gideon’s aid.

The lack of blood coursing through his veins left him a mess of incoherent babbling—something about hide-and-seek and a slurred account of his caloric intake for the day. He could hardly lift his head, lips slick and wet with blood, face flecked with even more blood and embedded with shrapnel.

Despite the assistance, his ankles were jello, feet dragging.

“Gotta sit down.” As he said it, he let his legs give out from under him, seeking the ground for a much needed rest like a wanderer drops to the edge of an oasis in the desert.

“Just a minute,” he barely managed.

Milo…? Gideon was confused at the artist’s presence, and for a moment he thought that he was hallucinating. But no, Milo was right there in front of his eyes. Which also worried Gideon, and the fear showed on Gideon’s face. The two of them were on speaking-terms, but that was about it. Now that Gideon was weakened, there was nothing stopping Milo from finishing him off.

“Bolt? Bolt!?” Gideon asked in shock when he realized underneath all the gore and blood that Boltius was breaking down. He raised his free palm and slapped Boltius across the face, pain spiking through Gideon’s broken bones. But regardless, he repeated the slap, shouting, “Get the fuck up, Beckman! We’re almost there!”

No. This couldn’t happen. Gideon was not going to watch their Ace die right in front of his eyes. He didn’t want to bear the brunt of the Ace’s death. Desperately, he met Milo’s eyes.

“Milo, we need a stretcher or blood packs or something. Help me out here,” Gideon demanded.

After a brief moment’s shock—and another, longer moment spent tamping down the rage that the sight of Gideon slapping Boltius had unleashed—Milo swallowed down the rising tide of fear and anxiety welling up in his chest and nodded. “R-right,” he acknowledged, though shaken by the sight of Boltius’ dire state.

Not again. Please.

Biting back a fresh wave of raw emotions, Milo set to work sketching a stretcher and, by the looks of the wound in Bolt’s side, several rolls of gauze. He prayed it would be enough.

Several grunts and groans elicited from the Ace as Gideon’s tough love caught up to him. He slurred out an empty threat before finally noticing Milo. “Oh, hey buddy!” He sounded too excited, a sign that he’d lost awareness of the reality that was currently siphoning all the blood from his body.

Boltius held Milo’s cheek in his hand, “Hey, buddy, what’re you- I ain’t seen you in forever, man. Why ain’t you called me back?” He rolled his eyes as a wave of disorientation washed over his head, “Woah. I’mma have to… have to talk later… gotta nap… Hey, you know Nanami’s dead, right? No, really, I saw him… At the… I saw him, really, dude, at the police precinct.”

“What are you talking about…?” Gideon asked. He looked over at Milo, then looked back at Bolt, not wanting to distract Milo from his sketching. “Who the hell is Nanami?”

Gideon remembered hearing that name vaguely during their heartstopping escape earlier, but he hadn’t had the time to reflect on it, or figure out what Nanami looked like. Was it a mutual friend of the two?

Ugh. Gideon wanted to barf. The blood that slicked Bolt’s body, the smear of blood on Milo’s face, the fact that his clothes were also covered in foul-iron smelling blood… Gideon almost couldn’t stand it.

“NEVER MIND!” Milo snapped, his composure holding on by a thread. He wasn’t going to hear another word about Nanami. Now wasn’t the time to discuss dead friends. Not when the living needed him.

“Help me lay him down on this.” The young artist commanded Gideon as he extracted the gurney from the fresh canvas. It shimmered like crystal glass before solidifying in its form. It was rough, shoddy work at best, but it would do. It had to. His attention turned to Bolt again. He desperately grabbed hold of the hand at his cheek, afraid that he might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight.

“Hey, hey… Shh, okay. It’s—it’s okay. Take it easy. We can talk more later, just…” His voice trailed off. Milo wasn’t sure if Boltius was hearing him now or not.

With Gideon’s help, Milo eased Boltius down, cradling the back of his head until it rested on the smooth board beneath him. After ensuring that their cargo was secure, he gave Gideon a nod. It was time to move.

(Interacting w/ Milo, Gideon)
(Mentioned no one)
Elenion Aura angel doe Coyote Hart Lucem Wxnter Misuteeku Horror​

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman

CS Link

SCENE:

We Who Remain

TIME:

Arc 3 — May 31st, 2022

LOCATION:

South district, Phoenix HQ; Shady's Clinic, first floor

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Bandy, Milo, Gideon, Jericho, Ashley, Callista, Raquel, Faelan

WE WHO REMAIN

When they arrived at Shady’s, they weren’t alone; Phoenixes from all sides were flooding into the motel, clutching their wounds, cursing the earthquake. It was, least to say, overwhelming, but Doctor Slim managed to sort the injured by severity of their wounds using her potential.

After that, it was all hands on deck. As the lobby continued to fill with Phoenixes seeking treatment, staff prepped the rooms, and the few who were qualified followed Slim’s lead in tending to the injured.

Boltius was one of the first to be plucked from the mass.

“Bring him this way,” Slim had instructed, addressing Milo and Gideon who carried him by stretcher. As she showed them to a room, she scanned their wounds and promptly assigned a member of staff to treat Gideon. He and Boltius would share a space; one room, two beds, staff in and out as their individual expertise varied.

Eventually, once the Ace was stable, once Gideon was taken care of, and once the sun bid farewell and the reaching tremors of Central’s earthquake subsided, the room was all but quiet. If not for the mechanical beeping of the heart monitor to serve as a bitter reminder, one could nearly forget the events that had led them here, to this facade of a hotel. Shady’s Clinic.

Though the room was still, beyond it members of the staff were hard at work tending to the rest.

The mechanical beeping of the heart monitor within seemed to pick up, a noticeable stirring of the one to whom it was connected. Boltius turned his head to the side, eyebrows pinched.

His mind was hours behind. As far as he was concerned, he was still falling. The ground was gaining on him and there was nothing he could do. Gideon was gone. Everyone was gone. He looked around and there he was, alone, plummeting. Vulnerable.

The gusting wind did nothing to slow his descent.

Closer, he raced to his inevitable doom.

Then, when he hit, everything went black. The next immediate second, he was sitting up in the clinic’s bed, gasping for breath with a tight fist over his heart, clutching nothing. The first person he saw was Milo.

It took every ounce of strength to muster the question, “What happened?” The words passed through dry lips in the form of a raspy whisper.

(Interacting w/ Milo, Gideon)
(Mentioned no one)
Elenion Aura angel doe Coyote Hart Lucem Wxnter Misuteeku Horror ]​

 

[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

With his hair rustling from his movement Tak hurried to flee the scene without a second thought for Nao’s safety as he dashed through the narrow alley, the sounds of yelling men and crashing bodies sounded reminiscent of waves against the shore as the masses of bodies moved like a uniform but chaotic wave as they spilled into the lot.

Tak had completely forgotten about his mag, having 0 interest in going against the abundant amount of homeless men dead set on pillaging the now free-to-access porno mags. As he neared the end of the alley, ready to dash out to the street and never look back, he remembered that he wasn’t alone in this endeavor.

“Crap! I completely forgot about her--!” He exclaimed in realization, eyes widening as he turned his head around to see if she had made it out, only to find she not only had gotten away from the swarm but was right behind him. His eyes visibly bulged out of his head when he saw how quickly she had caught up, “FAST!” was the only observation he could blurt out in the middle of his surprise.

The next thing he knew she had hooked onto his arm, pulling him to the side as he stumbled in the sudden altering direction, trying to catch his footing as he turned his body to move along with Nao, forced to go along with her to wherever she was planning. As they got farther and farther away from the alley the sounds of rampaging men faded into the distance, leaving them just with their paced steps and rampant heartbeats.

“Where are we even going!?” Tak blurted out, wondering where exactly she was planning on taking him as he continued to let himself be pulled along, but his question was answered only moments later as Nao directed his attention to her car, flashy and expensive-looking.

Sure that no one was following them, considering the silence that surrounded them, they finally had a chance to catch their breath. Tak swallowed as he bent forward slightly, supporting himself by resting his hands against his legs, looking at Nao with a tinge of annoyance,” What the hell!? You got a nice car!? I thought crackheads sold all their property and capital for more crack!” He shouted.

That’s what he was agitated about?

He didn't spend too long staring at the sports car, before turning his mental focus back to what had just happened. “Damn, that was close.” Tak exasperated, pushing himself back to stand up straight, “You gotta be careful what you do around here! Homeless people have heard that rivals bats when it comes to broken glass! It’s like their mating call.” Tak lectured Nao with a raised finger, suddenly acting like an expert in the surroundings despite never having been here before.

“Besides that…” Tak’s eyes suddenly narrowed on Nao, eyelids going lidded as he examined her, “You’re really crazy, y’know that? I don’t know how you had any problems with some ‘attackers’. You look like a twig but you’re damn fast and strong! You shoulda just kicked their ass!” Tak wrapped the conversation back around to the pretenses that led to them getting involved in the first place, evidently oblivious to the possibility that Nao could have been lying to him or that she could be an HP his shrunken eyes blinked into lines, clearly somewhat miffed that all this madness was partly caused by her.

“...Well, you gave me 5 dollars, so I guess it’s fine. You still got the mag, right?” Tak immediately dropped the issue, once again sticking a finger up his nose. He didn’t care about acting proper before, but now that both of them were covered in dirt there was all the less reason to.

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

Takes One To Know One

LOCATION:

East District, 24-Seven

DATE:

November 11, 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Lily

Takes One To Know One

If there was any sure sign that someone was mentally deranged, surely it would be them responding to your concerns with: ’What exactly isn’t wrong with me?’

The girl rambled about doctors, and why she never cared for them. She sounded like she had a point, but then she dropped the subject in favor of flinging Hiachi an insult. It was a relief, because Hiachi had almost been inclined to agree with her. Imagine! Agreeing with the crazy lady who hunted her down in an alleyway to sell her stuff she didn't want.

So she insulted her; but Hiachi couldn’t take it to heart, because in truth, the girl was paler and shorter than her and her words fell against her heart like pebbles.

And then she changed her tone. After smacking herself upside the head, she put on a sales persona and pulled out a tiny plastic bag. She waved it in front of her face, beckoning her like it was a tiny treat.

Hiachi couldn’t tell what was worse—that she was being peddled for drugs, or that her ‘sales pitch’ had been so specific. Unnerving. Hiachi had a dull face, she was short, and her life had been slowly inching towards rock bottom since the day she left the East—but how the hell did she know that!?

She didn’t want drugs. She had enough vices. Drugs were bad, and drugs would make her life worse.

Hiachi considered the fact that she lived in New Oasis and one percent of the population basically had superpowers. She could be reading her mind, probing her brain. Hiachi shuddered at the thought, and shuddered at the thought of her thought being projected into the woman’s brain.

The woman grabbed her by the arm, and Hiachi froze up. Her grip was desperate, and it hit Hiachi that she could be in actual danger.

What did she want!? She thought about it critically, backtracking the thought process of a drug dealer. Drug dealers want money. Perfect, crisis averted.

Hiachi barely had enough pocket cash for lunch that day. There was no way in hell she was giving that up. She still wanted to be left alone, though.

The second best thing she could do was food. There was plenty of stock in the fridge that she could give up for free. Plus, if she could distract her manager, she could steal some of the hot food off the front counter. Hiachi couldn’t give less of a fuck about 24-7, so that would be an easy sacrifice.

Hiachi bit her bottom lip before she lied. “...Follow me.” She nodded at the back door of the 24-7.

Well, if she was a mind reader, she would know Hiachi wasn’t gonna buy from her. She would already know she didn’t want her drugs and she would either attack her or give up. If she wasn’t, and she was just spewing nonsense, and the deathliness in her eyes was a twin to hers, then maybe she could use some hospitality.

Hiachi wanted to slap herself. She wasn’t a good samaritan, nor was she a saint. Giving a drug dealer a shitty 24-7 meal just to be left alone? Ridiculous.

Hiachi raised her eyebrow at her. She had to say something back to her at some point.

Spoiler

ATurei

​

 

[BriiAngelic]

Artemis Mac Naught

CS Link

SCENE MUSIC:

The Other Side

TIME:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 5th 2022

LOCATION:

Argentium Stadium, Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Missy, Vissa ( Slav )

ABCs of Sportsball

Was it too late to go back? She stood outside the stadium wondering just what was wrong with sports fanatics. It should have been like going to the movies right? Tickets, a game, and seats are all familiar right? If she was a smarter woman she would have thrown Vissa the tickets, dipped, and spent a lovely afternoon playing some gatchas.

But no, be social they say.

Was this much excitement really necessary? The game didn’t start for another hour? Why were there so many people here? She’d been bumped into twice and already ran from someone asking what team she was here to support. She wasn’t even sure what game was going on, let alone what teams were playing.

Just look up. Just look for the tall blonde dude. If only there were less people fitting that description here. Fine if she couldn’t find him then she’d just make herself a nuisance. She’d just need to ensure she thought things through better any other time she took the effort to be social.

She climbed up on a nearby stone railing flailing her arms out to catch her balance until she found herself steady. Okay, that wasn’t too hard and it added a nice two feet to her height. She took a deep breathe in scanning the crowds. She cupped her hands around her mouth before shouting.

“Vissaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! You here yet!”

 

[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

Tak was never really good at reading people, to compensate he usually only thought of two things when first interacting with someone. Would he like to punch them in the face? The question was always a yes or no, and it was a reliable method to avoid having to think too hard about the people he talked to.

Well, it was supposed to be reliable. Yet, he found himself stumped.

From the look of Elias down to the way he looked, he seemed like someone that would fall into the former option. Tak could tell just by the way he studied him with his eyes, that small tinge of ‘something’ in his eyes meant his brain was thinking of things Tak couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Yet, this uptight-looking socialite took the time to give Tak a proper and thorough answer, it did not come from his lips dripping off strands of snide, or was it trailed by looks of indisposition, it wasn’t like anything Tak had experienced before.

So, as Elias spoke about the purpose of this charity, every other word glossing over his brain like it was slicked with butter, he was much more focused on trying to understand what made the man….un-punchable. Was it just natural charisma?

“The earthquake, huh?” Tak reiterated, just to reel himself back into the conversation. After all, he wasn’t just listening to this lecture for his health. Nonchalantly he raised a hand to the back of his neck as Elias talked about the far-reaching damage, there were no doubt hundreds if not thousands of people impacted, lives had been lost and businesses had been turned into dust.

“I think I slept through it…” Tak unconcernedly reminisced what he was doing the day of the disaster, passed out on his couch like always, his pupilless eyes absentmindedly staring at Elias, that was until, for seemingly no reason he reached down to slide a plate under the table, covered with uneaten food.

Tak’s brow raised at this, one-half confusion another half surprise, “Why is he chuckin’ food under the table? What a waste! Someone’s gonna have to clean that up later, asshole!” Was Tak’s immediate conclusion, typical behavior of someone with money to burn, he just was tossing something expensive away without a care, even if Tak didn’t understand why under the table! There was a faint moment where he showed clear agitation, but a realization struck through him, a jingle playing in his head as his eyes opened, before his expression relaxed, eyes going lidded.

“No…this guy’s different. I doubt he’d just toss food under there for no reason,” Tak guessed there was some deeper meaning, continuing to stare at the table as his brain tried to piece together what he possibly could be trying to accomplish.

Then, the dim attic that was his brain finally had the circuitry reconnected to the single lightbulb in his head, his countenance lightning up in understanding, “This must be some type of ritual! He’s probably saying ‘Let’s keep this discussion under the table’! Makes sense, his rich friends would probably shun him for talkin’ to someone like me. It’s just like high school, he wouldn’t be able to sit at the lunch table anymore!” His lunatic understanding of Elias' actions had finally come full circle, as he tilted his head to the side slightly, sticking his hands in his pockets, “He probably wants me to put somethin’ under the table too, to seal the deal. Mutual agreement and all that, but I only got…”

Before he could finish his statement and retrieve what was in his pocket, Elias’ arm found itself around Tak’s shoulder, causing him to look away from himself and look at the young elite from the corner of his eye, his words causing the fire that made the innocent curiosity in his antics melt away into a grave frown, his brows tying together.

The King of the Tigers.

It was a name Tak had heard scarcely through his short period as a member of the gang, he was aware of all four big positions the gang had, and he had whispers and rumors of each of them over the times.

Yet, the words of the King only seemed to come from numb lips and chattering teeth.

Tak knew nothing but his name, yet upon hearing his title alone, he felt the deepest pang in his chest that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to bristle as if they had been glossed by a cold winter ear. Reverence and curiosity melded and bled together in an intoxicating cocktail that almost was alcoholic enough to fuel the long-since snuffed embers within him. Ever persistent, waiting for its chance to crawl back to the surface of his mind again and feast on his desires and psyche.

Like a roach.

Tak only realized now how long he had gone without saying anything, staring at Elias with his featureless eyes, the lack of pupils in his vision making it impossible to read his emotions.

But his body was a different story, it had visibly tensed, the skin gripping around his Adam's apple going taut as he swallowed, before finally responding.

“...I’ve never met him.”













“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.”

The tension that had precipitated into the atmosphere between the two men had suddenly disappeared as Tak pulled a hand out of his pocket, opening his palm to show what he was holding onto.

Its chitinous exoskeleton weaved around his fingers as it was revealed to the light, numerous legs skittering across his fingers as its antenna prodded against the creases in his dry hands.

Looping between his fingers was a giant centipede, its thousands of tiny legs bright orange contrasting the deep black sheen on its body.

“I was gonna put this in a jar when I got home, but it’s the only thing I got on me so I’ll use it as my part of the agreement,” Tak said with a cocky smirk on his face, clearly pleased with the fact he had figured out what Elias meant without being told.

Of course, he was completely wrong.

Before he could be stopped he bent down and flipped up a piece of the tablecloth, opening the perfect pathway for the centipede as he placed his other hand gently on the ground, “There ya go lil’ buddy. Go nuts,” he whispered, as he watched it crawl off his hands and quickly dash into the comforting darkness under the table.

Dusting his hands off as he had just finished a hard job, he turned back to Elias, completely oblivious as he wore a neutral expression, “So, what were you saying?”

miki QuirkyAngel

 

[Roda the Red]

Keith Sullivan

CS Link

SCENE:

Meet and Grit

LOCATION:

The Third Eye, Central District

TIME:

Morning, July 8th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Peyton, Keith

Meet and Grit

Keith wiped his slightly damp forehead with his gloved hand. Admitedly it was a bit of a hassle to be under the merciless assault of sunlight. He wished he had brought some kind of parasol to stay under the cooling shade, but also that would've made him stand out like a weird guy, and that was something that they boy couldn't possibly allow. He spent some time browsing his phone, sending some messages to his friends (that you could count with a single hand), checking on the local news website and also checked on some prices for online shopping, his phone's battery was pretty much full so hopefully he could spend his time with i- OH GEEZ OH GOD OH NO SOMEBODY HAS STRIKED CONVERSATION

STRANGER DANGER, STRANGER DANGER.

Keith inhaled deeply, repeating to himself that just because someone approached him out of nowhere was NOT necessarily a good reason to freak out and panic. He exhaled, giving the mysterious short boy with two-toned hair a bashful yet puzzled look.

"I-I don't think so...I'm sorry..." He gave the line before them a look, it was a bit disappointed that despite the fact he got here so early, there were still so many people even more dedication than him. "Y-Yeah, it's a long line, and I got here pretty early" He scratched the side of his head, completely unsure on how to follow this pity attempt of a conversation. "I'm Keith...Nice to meet you"

Coyote Hart

 

[Nobody Special]

BASH HIRABAYASHI

CS Link

SCENE:

I Prefer Water

LOCATION:

North District, Mysterious Black Site

TIME:

Post Arc-3 | Chapter 1

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Teddie

✕ POTENTIALS BANNED:

None

I PREFER WATER

“Oi, quit fuckin’ repeatin’ the same shit two times, or I’ll fuckin’ thrash ya.” Bash hissed at Tar, silently resisting the urge to knock Sang-Cheol upside his fat, stupid head after he completely disregarded his orders to stop calling him by his… title. “There ain’t no fuckin’ ‘if’. Like you fuckin’ said, we’re gettin’ Snake back. No what-if’s.”

He cringed at Sang-Cheol’s ‘uncharted territory’ comment. He wasn’t exactly sure what the fuck ‘uncharted’ meant, but the lack of further explanation from four-eyes led him to believe that the phrase was somewhere along the lines of, ‘I have no idea what the fuck is waiting for us down here’. He reluctantly allowed the nerd to take the lead– only because his shitty fire was the only way they’d be able to see in the eerie underground corridor– but he still kept his guard up and his fists clenched just in case someone decided to try them.

He pointed his nose at the coarse ceiling (if the dirty, hard roof of the hall could even be called that) and attempted sniffing around for any familiar traces of Caio’s scent, only for his nostrils to be violently invaded by the strong, smoky smell of the bastard freakily cackling behind him. He pinched his nose for a second before taking another crack at tracking down a scent, only for the same horrid stench to fill his lungs again. In a brief fit of uncontrollable anger, his fist shot out, cracking into the nearest wall and leaving a noticeable dent where his knuckles had landed.

“Motherfucker!” He somehow quietly yelled, snapping back at Tar with a furious scowl drilled onto his face. “You fuckin’ reek! If I turn that shitty potential ‘a ‘yers off, will all ‘a that disgustin’ shit ‘yer made up of disappear, or will ya just fuckin’ die?!”

In hopes of controlling his fury, he shoved his fists into his pockets for a bit, continuing on behind Sang-Cheol.

“Either way, cut it the fuck out! I can’t smell shit, and I don’t really give a damn if ya become normal or if ya die!”

Just as he finished lobbing the not-so-empty threat behind him, a glint of light bouncing off of something they were passing caught the golden-eye of the Queen. He forced himself to a halt, planting his foot in the ground and reaching forward to grab Sang-Cheol’s shoulder and stop him as well. He could only pray that the disgusting fuck behind him would get the memo and stop as well, or else he’d have to throw his whole outfit away as soon as he got home.

“Wait. What the hells’at?”

Misuteeku WhiskeyMarten

 

[Slav]

Vissarion Argyris

CS Link

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

Vissa took a sip from his glass, satisfied with what both Erza and Passeri had said. "That's great to hear. Making sure the youth are adequately equipped to determine their own destiny is how we improve this city. Somebody has to help them if the government won't." With the city being a mess, somebody had to put in the work to try and fix it. With his vast fortune, he believed that he could make a difference. He was raised in this city, it hurt him to see it in it's current state. Vissa turned his attention back to Passeri, a smile still present on his face. "I think that concludes our business for now, unless you have any other matters to bring up. If not, we can get into the idle talk." The blonde said, flicking a strand of hair away from his vision.

Other than the basics, Vissa didn't know all that much about Passeri and Erza for that matter. Learning more about them could help him in the future, especially if they begin to develop a friendship. Keeping his eyes on Passeri, he addressed her first. "Tell me about your self Passeri. I know you're an entertainer, that is obvious. An entertainer in a gang organization isn't obvious. Why are you here? Aren't you afraid that information like this would get out?" Vissarion posed a few questions to her, sipping from his glass once more. "I hope my questions aren't rude, the last thing I would want to do is offend you. It's just something that I've been wondering about." Passeri had always been a mystery to him. Being affiliated with a gang did have a few perks, but in an industry like hers it seemed to have a lot of downsides. It made him wonder why she would want to balance it out in the first place.

"And that goes for you too Erza. You aren't required to be here, you don't have to work a day in your life. What motivates you? You two are interesting cases." Vissa said, giving them a bright smile. He had a tendency to be straightforward but he didn't get to where he was now by sitting on the sidelines. If he was to consider them as future partners, he would need more information. Vissarion didn't help strangers, that wasn't how he conducted business. Conducting business with people you trusted ensured that there wasn't any speed bumps in the process. That was something he tried his best to avoid.

Interacted: The One Eyed Bandit Lucem
Mentioned:

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

What The Dirt Remembers

LOCATION:

East, Heiwana Sasayaki Summer Camp (Abandoned)

DATE:

May 20, 2022 | 9:57 PM

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Rem

WHAT THE DIRT REMEMBERS

Hiachi left night classes feeling something. While it was a Friday and therefore logical to go out for drinks, Hiachi knew better than that now. Plus, she had a better understanding of what she was feeling this time.

So she caught the cheapest train to the East District and walked, making sure she was still in the sun. She finally figured out how to rent a ride in a car and drove to the edge of the Heiwana Sasayaki forest. She followed the trail into the woods, down to the remnants of her childhood summer camp.

By then, the sun had set and the moon was pale and round as it hung in the sky: full and watchful. It reflected off the giant lake, in slivers and slices that traveled all the way to Hiachi’s legs. The water was cold, and when the summer camp had been running no one was allowed to touch the water without adult supervision; but Hiachi realized she was an adult and could supervise herself, so she kicked off her shoes and rolled up her pants to let the water reach up to below her knees.

The water was cold and murky, and Hiachi kind of regretted putting her legs in the unkempt and stagnant lake, but what was done was done. A dose of whimsy wouldn’t kill her.

And there she sat, for the better part of the hour. Thinking about unimportant things, like how the concept of the former summer camp had been ridiculous. A tech camp in the middle of the woods? A promise of enriching kids with ways of the past and knowledge for the future? A scam. That was why it was nothing more than rotting wood now, Hiachi thought.

But Hiachi had liked the camp, which seemed obvious because she had come back in the middle of the evening. It was boring and pretentious at times, but she really missed the people she had met there. People who had been more like her than the world that surrounded her.

She rubbed her arms beneath her jacket. It was cold for a spring night—the chill ran through her clothes and on her skin. That, and the dark had begun to unnerve her again.

Maybe I should get back. It was getting late, and far too late for Hiachi’s liking. In reality, she wasn’t planning to get up until the clock struck 10, but then she froze.

There had been a rustle behind her. While it could have been an animal or something, it was better to be safe than sorry. Hiachi rested her hand on her gun as she scanned the area, her calm mood dissolved by her new tense state. She was ready to aim and shoot or withdraw, if she could just catch the eye of whatever had been behind her.

Spoiler

gxxberkit

​

 

[Slav]

Vissarion Argyris

CS Link

SCENE:

ABCs of Sportsball

TIME:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 5th 2022

LOCATION:

Argentium Stadium, Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Missy( BriiAngelic ), Vissa

ABCs of Sportsball

Originally, Vissa didn't have anything planned today. He had a few projects to finalize, but there wasn't anything else on the docket. That was until Missy had approached him about some tickets for a soccer game. It was impossible to refuse free tickets, especially to his favorite sport. Walking through the huddled masses was something that he had grown used to. The loud noise was something else that he'd grown accustomed to. For inexperienced people, an event like this could be a lot to take in. He wasn't sure if Missy had gone to many games, but he was sure she was fine. She was a Tiger after all. He stopped in his tracks as a voice rung through the crowd, causing Vissa to turn his head. It was easy to spot her, she was the only person standing on a railing. That was certainly a way to get his attention.

It didn't take him long to wade his through the crowd, getting closer to Missy. It probably would have been better to meet up before the game. They wouldn't have had to find each other in this manner. He stopped in front of her, looking up at her since she had the height advantage now. "Having fun up there? How does it feel to be tall for once? It must be an exhilarating feeling." A smirk grew on his face as he teased her, letting his hand rest on his hip. It was quickly becoming apparent that this was her first rodeo at a sports event. He knew how daunting it could feel, especially since he had the feeling the first time he went. That feeling went away over time.

His golden gaze remained on Missy, opening his mouth once more. "It's good to see you in a place like this Missy. I know how grueling it can be at the casinos." Vissa didn't spend much time with other Tigers. His business didn't require him to socialize, making his friend circle within the gang smaller than he'd like it to be. The casino was where he interacted with his fellow members the most. Missy was a face that he saw often, especially with his gambling habits. Luckily, he could afford to lose all that money. "I think you should get down from there. The security might think your a hooligan." Vissa said, teasing her some more. This was certainly a good way to start this event.

 

[tityanya]

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
​

𝒜𝓈: 𝒩𝒶𝑜

Scene: Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things
Time: Pre Arc 1 || 2021
I am here: Northern Streets
With: Tak​

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

╔════════════════════╗

To Tak's credit, he did realize that he forgot about her. She heard him blurt it out, before he turned around and discovered that she had nearly reached him. She smirked a little bit at his surprised "Fast!" "I did track in high school," she lied as an explanation, pulling him along with her. It felt like she nearly pulled him off his feet, the way he stumbled along for a second. But well, she did take a sharp turn. Of course, Tak wanted to know where they were going. Naomi didn't answer yet, already a little winded. She didn't warm up for that sprint, and she had still been fairly out of breath from their destruction of the vending machine. But once the car was in sight, she let him know.

Naomi unhooked her arm from Tak's, leaning over the top of her car as she caught her breath. She was safe now--back with her precious car, and no sound of pursuit following them. Man, this had been...an adventure. She was wiped now, the cocaine already starting to fade out of her body. She wasn't sure she wanted to take another bump. Now, going home and sleeping on her mattress--that sounded like a nice idea. Sadly, rest wasn't in the cards at this moment. Tak had regained enough breath to grill her about the car. "I don't do crack, I do cocaine! There's a difference! Crack really fucks you up!" Naomi snapped back, ignoring the fact that cocaine also really fucked people up. "I'm really good at budgeting," was all she answered in response to how she could afford it. And to be fair, it was the truth. She lived in a shitty, cheap apartment so she could afford her car and drug habit.

That was when Tak began lecturing her like a dad, saying that the sound of broken glass was like a mating call for the homeless. Well, at least in the north, he wasn't wrong. But she had never seen quite that many people respond to broken glass. It still made her shiver now, and she clutched at herself. Jesus Christ, that had been horrifying. But when Tak turned his attention to her behavior, saying that she was crazy and fast and strong, she looked like a deer in the headlights. He...hadn't figured out she was an HP, had he? No, no way. He wasn't smart enough for that. "When there's multiple people after you and you're under the effect of drugs, it can be hard to run or fight them off. But that's why I ran into you, because I'm fast," she answered, sure that the logic was sound. It was believable to her, at least. He had seen how fast she was.

But of course, Tak couldn't forget his mission in the North to begin with. With a sigh, Naomi pulled the rolled-up magazine out of her back pocket. She also pulled out her car keys and popped the trunk. 'Here's your magazine. Do you need a ride home? If so, help me put these seat covers on my seats," Naomi said, her voice weary. She had completely forgotten that her little baggie of cocaine was sitting on the passenger seat. She just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

╚════════════════════╝​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((Mr. Jones))


thebigfella

 

[Roda the Red]

ERIC EVENSEN

CS Link

SCENE:

Bitter Aftertaste

LOCATION:

The Cerulean Orchid, South District

TIME:

Nighttime, Post Arc 3 June 7th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Callista, Eric

Bitter Aftertaste

As his drink was in the process of being made, Eric realized that boredom was quick to overwhelm him, his brain needing to distract itself with a little bit of stimulation.

The detective lazily scrolled through his phone with no particular goal in mind, he just sort of browsed and shifted through applications. But as he fidgeted with the device, his mind now lost in short bursts of fun chemicals caused by the endless streams of immediate media, the kind that the youth is all about nowadays, the sound of glass gently sliding on wood caught his attention. In front of him lied an neatly-presented drink, a personal favorite of Eric.



Even for someone as apathetic and desensitized as him, he couldn't help but take a photo of the nice drink, especially since the pretty heterogeneneic patterns were short-lived. He pulled out his contacts and send the image to a certain Pink-eyed friend of his, alongside a short message. 'Little weeknight escapade, but please just keep it a secret, okay?' Even when aiming to drown his frustrations in a little bit of alcoholic indulgence, the Detective always had room for some of light-hearted humor. For humor was the thing stopping his life from just being a tragedy.

As he raised his glass towards his mouth, Eric's attention was diverted towards the intruding figure on the corner of his eye, the woman that gave him a sudden smile. He also stopped moving his drink as he felt an invasive hand on his shoulder, a man delivering questions in a tone far from friendly. The officer simply gave a few glances back and forth between the two new individuals, before giving the man a friendly smile.

"...Ah, I see what's going on" Said Eric as he lowered his drink, gently placing it back on the bar counter. "Sorry, but you got it wrong, I'm just his cousin, trust me this isn't the first time it happened, she just gets very bashful and doesn't know how to turn guys down without hurting their feelings" He turned around by rotating his stool, his elbows now laying atop the counter. "You should've seen her 12 years ago, we were all having a picnic in Upper Central, and the princess here thought it was a fun idea to draw on the statues with her marker, and in the end she ended up using me as an scapegoat by placing the marker in my pocket, I was grounded for two weeks, but that's just how she is" He turned to face the lady, a somewhat sly smile now painted on his face "Ain't that right, cuz?" He stood up from his stool, gently placing a hand over the guys shoulder.

"Look, I'm sorry for her attitude, she can be a bit of a handful, so let me make it up to you, okay?" He pulled out his phone once again, eventually tapping on his contacts, more specifically that of Guin, both her phone number and photo on display in the screen. "Look, she's a friend of mine, and she's been kind of lonely as of late, so how about you text her? You're just her type, too, so I think you have a very good chance, what do you say?"

Wxnter

Mentions: Passeri & Guin ( The One Eyed Bandit )

 

[tityanya]

𝑁𝑜𝑎𝑚 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜

Scene: Peter Picked a Party for a Pointless Pizza Picnic
Time: Afternoon, Summer 2022
I am here: Ruined Playground, North District
With: Kaiga, Reminiscence, Sill, Julian, Kisara, Taka, Haley, Raph
​

"Everybody gets high"

〖 Noam watched the food Rem packed as though it was in slow motion. Really, it was in slow-motion from the weed Omi had eaten earlier. The couple of seconds it took for the food to go splat on the floor felt like eons had passed. His mouth was agape alongside Rem's. That...was so unfortunate. Not only was it a waste of Rem's time, he had really been looking forward to a home-cooked meal. He could cook for himself, sure, and was pretty good at it too, but he didn't want to. "Pizza sounds good," he responded to Rem's question, still staring at the wreckage of the food she had prepared for all of them on the floor.

The pizza order placed, Rem put her phone away and cheerfully announced that the pizza would be there in twenty minutes. She...didn't look very cheery though. From Noam's point of view, she was being very brave about the whole thing. He was a little too emotional, probably. If he had spent the effort cooking a meal for several people and dropped it, he probably would have started crying right then and there. She made her way to one of the tables under the pavilion, head in her hands. Ah, her head was probably killing her, like it usually was. "Well, while we wait, I do have these!" Noam said, reaching into the passenger seat of his car and pulling out a tray of chocolate cookies. The top of his car had been removed today, opening it up as a convertible for the summer heat. They should be in sight of his car at all times, so Noam wasn't too worried about being robbed. "They do have weed in them, though. This is your fair warning!" he said, waltzing over to the pavilion and placing the tray at a table far away from Rem. He was sure she didn't want people clamoring over them next to her, if they did at all.

Once the tray was placed down, he took two cookies and headed over to Rem. He sat down next to her, placing the cookies carefully on his knee. "Want something a little faster acting?" he asked, pulling a joint out of the pocket in his shirt. If Rem took it, he would light it for her as well. "There's a cookie for you as well," he said, tapping the cookie on his knee.

Satisfied that he had done his part, his attention wandered to the playground. Well, less a playground and more a tetanus hotbed. It was such a shame, really. That would have been really fun to play on. Why did everything in the North have to be decayed and dying? Maybe if they worked together hard enough, they could unwind those swings? Noam started at them hard for a moment that felt like a century. "Anyone want to climb on my shoulders to unwind the swings?" Noam called out in general to the party. He was totally capable of having someone on his shoulders and not just falling over. He drove here, after all!〗

"why the hell can't I?"​

((ooc: for those who have never partaken, edibles usually take 45min-2 hours to kick in, so keep that in mind if your character grabs a cookie ))
((Outfit))
((Everybody Gets High))​

@The Crimson King gxxberkit Peckinou @Sei Shonagon @simj26 AriAriAbabwa @kase9187 Elenion Aura

 

[thebigfella]

??? & RED

Collab Post

SCENE:

Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

LOCATION:

South District

TIME:

June 18th, 2022

Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

The buildings no longer symbolized the embodiment of modern humanity, towers of brick and mortar stood like tall trunks, the wires that connected them acting like branches. The pathway forward obstructed by pillars of stone, the twisting and turning alleys weaved and split, uncertain salvation flowed one way while certain oblivion cascaded another. Foundations that prioritized safety had instead become walls that enclose trapped who needed asylum the most.


Lights placed outside locked doors pried out the darkness, casting fearful shadows that sought to not be burned. They danced across the walls, running for safety to only be erased by the light, just to resurrect and do it all over again across the next brick canvas. No matter how much it stretched, or how quickly it moved, the next light was always one step ahead, waiting.


Hiding wasn’t an option, the darkness behind dumpsters, the umbra that clung in between tight passageways, such places only existed to consume the shadow, where they would never rise from again. The light, the continuously burning light meant that it was still alive, that it could still run.


Feet moved light as air, yet they threaded through murky waters, the rivers of Styx released the hands of the forgotten to grip onto the legs like mud, the tender caresses of death sending pulses through the body, brushing off the fatigue that tried to settle across their knees and calves like drying concrete.


Black leather slacks splashed through a puddle, the rippling surface showing the reflection of a full moon far above, the gray clouds in the night sky floating in circles above like a pack of vultures, waiting for the wounded animal to finally drop dead.


His lungs were burning, as if someone had jammed a metal prod against his chest marking him for the slaughter, he had been selected. Chest heaving reminded him he was alive, but the painful compressions as his body tried to regulate air reminded him wasn’t dead. The fact that a pit had formed in his stomach, feeling like he was hollow, despite the evident sensations of bile trying to rise from his throat reminded him that he was going to die.


His clothes were too big for him, the large trench coat, the crease-free button-up, the slacks that hung to his waist only with the assistance of a leather belt, none of it fit him, yet it was the only thing that could represent him, he would be able to run faster if he tossed away the shoes that slid and blistered his heels, he could have had some extra stamina if he tossed away his trench coat into the nearest dumpster, but it was already too late to make changes.


He could only run, run as fast as he could.


…Until he couldn’t anymore.


An empty lot, with three walls on all sides. There was only one exit, and it was no longer behind him. Only below, the place that had been waiting for him all this time, in all its inevitability.


As he came to a stop, he stared at the wall ahead, the gray-white bricks free of stains, a clean canvas ready to represent one’s image. The puddles that formed in the divots of the ground offered mirrors so that the world above could watch his fate from multiple angles.


There were no bells that tolled for him. Such a sound would be far too graceful for the life of one like his, instead, his impending fate introduced itself with a simple chorus, the backing notes for the final notes of an orchestra.


A merciless dash. Quicker than what he could perceive, and had perceived as his predator. A swift shanking motion, and his fate was sealed. The machete was in his stomach. The metal sliced through his skin and his stomach and his back and the stab was quick enough to shatter a piece of his spine.


She held it there for a single second (it felt much longer than that). And then it was a twist of the knife and raised the blade at his carotid artery, slashing at the exact angle she had always perfected, and cutting his head off—all in one swift motion.


The corners of Little Red’s mouth curled up. In a single soft murmur, she whispered: “Got you.”


The blood splattered on her hood and face, to which she wiped the disgusting substance off her cheek with a groan. The cape was normally fine (it was red, see), but the face? Oh, god, not the face. She didn’t want any of his DNA on her. The only reason she wanted to be in his life was to end it. And the other problem was blood was a pretty good signal that a murder had occurred.


Fucking hell. Red didn’t have to worry about this when Papa was alive. It was killing her good mood.


She crouched to ground level and took a look at the situation. Head cut clean off (the CSIs would have marveled) and body collapsed under the weight of his clothes. He didn’t look too shocked. Anxious, maybe. Morose, melancholy. It’s like that, don’t you know.


Red pouted. She didn’t wanna deal with hiding a body! It was work for people far more strength and time and ability to give a fuck. She hated this part of the job—being punished for doing good. The world couldn’t understand; it was all for the best, and what was Red if she was not in service of the world’s best interest?


With no one to bring her down from her rising anger, Red stood up straight, her rubber sneakers burning on the asphalt. She looked at his bleeding head. The ugly eyes that had leered at her were now rolling up, positioned at her.


“Aww,” She approached the head, voice high-pitched and saccharine as if she was still trying to lure him. “You can look, but don’t touch… Oough, for FUCK’s sake——!”


She kicked his head like it was a soccer ball. The impact of the head on the wall made a cracking sound after it had been swung at it at the speed of a car.


And now there was blood everywhere. Staining the concrete, staunch with the acrid smell of death and iron. Boo.


But it made her feel a bit better. Wicked old per-vert was her toy now. She picked the gross head up by the scalp, neck facing up, and she looked around for a good hiding spot.


There had been a dumpster a few blocks back that looked full. Good enough. Red dashed back and forth from the crime scene, placing the body and head in the rotten piles.


She dusted off her hands and looked at the blood. She really didn’t wanna. She was really damn hungry. She wanted a burger and fries and a fudge sundae from the nearest Wcdonalds.


So, to hell with it! Red shrugged and turned away. The south wasn’t made of babies. Either the rain would wash it away or the citizens could take it as a warning.


She looked up at the bright moon. Vivid, like the eye of god, peering down at her with approval. She smiled back.


And that was the end of that. So Red skipped off, to a jaunty off-key humming tune, satisfied with her nightly hunt.


So the tiny butcher walked on, leaving behind another successful hunt with her mind focused on fast food cravings. She became nothing but a smaller blip in the distance before the darkness consumed her entirely, leaving only the carnage behind.


The view ruminated there for a long moment, unmoving within the silence.


Then, footsteps, faint but barely audible grew closer, coming from the opposite direction of the dead end that had sealed the man’s face, the footsteps appearing like another door had opened after his death.


A shadow cast itself across the empty alley, spikey-haired and lanky, giving an insight to its owner but nothing more, as the shadow shifted like a living creature, its mouth opening to show jagged fangs in a twisted smile as horns rose from the top of its head.


“Keheheheheh! KEHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

​

???

CS Link

SCENE:

Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

LOCATION:

South District

TIME:

June 20th, 2022 (Post-Arc 3)

PARTICIPANTS:

Red, Charlie, Helva, Corvo, Yukito

Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

Smoke rose from a pair of burning incense sticks, the sparks of embers smoldering at the burnt black tips. They hung loosely outside of a glass dish that sat on top of a flat plane of stone. A small vase filled with red orchids sat only a short distance away, stray petals had fallen off and scattered around, decorating the surroundings of the picture stand that sat in the middle. The golden frame that held the picture shimmered under the light, the reflection obscuring the face of the woman in the photo, only showing the faint smile on her face within this mirror of frozen time. The reasons behind such sentimental adornments were revealed as the view panned upward following the trail of incense smoke, as the blurred focus cleared to reveal a name carved into an obelisk-shaped gravestone.


This burial was only one of many that surrounded the area, numerous headstones and monuments spread throughout the surroundings, each representing the person who had fallen in their way, a visible embodiment of their personality and influence post-mortem.


It was a graveyard, but unlike most graveyards, laid outside where buried bodies stretched acres far with numerous generations all found within the same soil, this graveyard was different. Wooden walls and floors sealed it underground, like a giant tomb, torches of fire decorated the upper lining of the banding, the fluttering flames contributing to the atmosphere, but the most prominent light source was the chandelier that hung from the ceiling, its bright orange flames emanating from the wicks of melting candles.


Rows and rows of those who had fallen spread across the wide room, separated by finely polished walkways that gave every grave its place and respect. It was the least they deserved, for all they had done.


Placed only a short distance away from Phoenix Headquarters, this underground graveyard acts as a place to put their brothers and sisters to a respectful rest, keeping them close to their home where they won’t be forgotten and die their second death, and where their spirits can be reborn through the bonds they left behind. For those who would rather be buried under the warm flames of scarlet rather than the unfeeling cold night air, who would find their rest peacefully surrounded and protected by their family even in death.


This was The Roost. A place for tired phoenixes to rest their wings and sleep harmoniously.



Despite its purpose…it would now be the place to bring upon a rude awakening.


A phone call had reached a few certain Phoenixes, rousing them from their current ongoings, summoning them with a call, a cry, a caw. Its meaning is unknown, but its intention is clear. It would provide answers to the ongoing dissonance, the unexplained disappearances, the feathers plucked from the plumage.


It was silent, as no one had yet arrived, and the one who had sent out the summons was nowhere to be found, just as enigmatic as their way of contact.


The smell of incense cloyed the air, and hints of cinnamon and lavender stimulated the senses. Hopefully, it would cover the sour taste that would soon rise into their mouths.

miki AriAriAbabwa weatheringwings Roda the Red Elenion Aura Peckinou

 

[BluEndings]

"HANUEL" BAE (HIFUMI)

CS Link

SCENE:

[Clouds at the Summit]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, March 21st, 2017

LOCATION:

Millennium Hall, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hifumi, Shen

CLOUDS AT THE SUMMIT

The subtle chill of the breeze. The winding warmth of the sky. The soft rush of adrenaline.

For the first time since stepping foot in this place, Hifumi felt his heart quiet.

He held no understanding of this location’s history or meaning, nor the intention of the one who had brought him here. There was no fear, shame, or misshapen desire. Just two individuals in a sanctuary outside the flow of modern life. Free from every burden and expectation from illful face’s who sought ruinous perfection.

It was a lonely freedom to share with another.

“It’s lovely.”

His tone had been stripped down to its soft insides, illuminated only by the dampness of his eyes. There was pain, but it was dry like a long prised longing. Free from misery, and free to soar beyond the reaches of his shivering smile. It stifled, fizzed, and then popped into merry laughter befitting of his colorful clothes with movements that breathed as a living being should.

“Have you”—even now he dared not let their eyes meet—”ever thought about fate?”

“Can something as maliciously comforting as that truly exist?”

NAVIGATE

 

[BluEndings]

ZANE RIDDLE

CS Link

SCENE:

[Crossed Lines]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1 | November 11th, 2014

LOCATION:

The Mirage Diner, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Vulken, Zane

CROSSED LINES

There wasn’t enough time for Zane’s loathsome smirk to contort before the man found himself on the ground surrounded by freshly broken glass. One arm was enough to keep his body upright, but both knees were undeniably folded, along with his pride. There was nothing to see, but the disappointing reality of a forcefully lowered head. Yet there were plenty of murmurs to be heard.

His rise was not a quick one.

It was a tentative climb fueled by thoughts which pathed the way for something anomalous. The expression splayed on his hoisted head was not one of anger nor self-satisfaction. It was empty, and stalled. One might even say dumb—his features were still and the swirling gray of his eyes devoid of clarity. Even as the man brushed away shards and grime, there wasn’t an ounce of his earlier passion to be seen.

He quietly absorbed his new surroundings, and peeled off what was now a sorry excuse of jacket. The fit beneath was taut, allowing his arms to breathe and provided the assurance of nothing hidden.

“I’m not as sharp as I may look.”

His face remained muted, but his freshly poised stance spoke plenty.

“There something you itch’n to say, or you just here to scrap? ‘Cause I’m a bit miffed.”

He made no further attempt to advance. In fact, it appeared as if the majority of his weight was being allocated to his feet. Tension was finally rippling throughout his body. Muscles tugged around the shoulders, and his limbs no longer dangled down like skinned carcasses.

Though free of any clenched fists, it aired hostility all the same.

NAVIGATE

 

[angel doe]

celestine renee cadieux

CS Link

SCENE:

spotting the wingless

LOCATION:

east district

TIME:

nighttime, post-arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

jozef, nona-me, keith, celestine

spotting the wingless

Celestine chuckled, a soft smile on her lips, "Sounds like quite the experience." She didn't really know how to react, but she loved hearing anything Jozef had to say so she commented occasionally to show that she was listening. Her gaze was constantly darting around, however, keeping an eye out for anything strange. They were there as backup, after all.

Sitting upright, Celeste moved so she was crouching beside Joe, narrowing her eyes and scanning the scene, "It looks alright from what I can see..." she responded softly, biting her lip and continuing to look around, not wanting to miss anything. Something didn't feel right about all of this and she wanted to take Jozef and leave, but they were there for support should it be needed. There was no leaving, so Celestine chalked her being so on edge up to the fact that they had crossed into another gang's territory to do a drug deal.

"Hopefully all goes well and we can get out of here quickly..." Celestine muttered, sighing and absentmindedly reaching over to Jozef, gently ruffling his hair, "Should anything happen, stick close to me, okay? I do not want you to get hurt."

WhiskeyMarten gxxberkit Roda the Red

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

Clad In Golden Dreams

LOCATION:

West District

DATE:

June 16th, 2022 | Evening

PARTICIPANTS:

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

Clad In Golden Dreams

Hiachi felt bad about diving back under the table. Mr. Anamnesis—Mr. Yumin—Elias—whatever his title was, he had been surprisingly kind to her. He recognized her distress and offered to help her. With some sort of scheme because he empathized, and it felt nice to be understood instead of pitied.

Too bad this IDIOT came bolting over towards her, right in front of her brother. Maybe she should be nicer, considerate of the fact that Tak had no idea who her brother was—but what kind of cruel god would permit a twist of fate so perfectly disastrous?

So she dove back under the table. If Denzou looked and saw her, it was over. If Tak saw her and shouted her name, it was incredibly over.

She left Elias to deal with Tak, but to her pleasant surprise, he was handling it surprisingly well. He casually talked about the state of the event and why it was being held, no patronizing tone whatsoever. In the middle of one of his sentences, he slipped a little plate of food to her, before continuing as if nothing had happened.

Hiachi’s heart panged a little. Elias was a saint.

She hugged her knees and took a bite out of one of the mini appetizers. It tasted good, better than most of the things she had eaten in the past years. Too bad they were so small, though.

She was content to spend a couple more minutes there. Then she would find a way to get out the event. Surely Passeri would understand—she wouldn’t miss one server, and she knew how she felt about her family.

But then Tak started talking, and Hiachi realized a little too late that she was doomed. A centipede—the big ones that were poisonous and lethal and came out in the summer. Crawling under her table. A sacrifice (?).

Hiachi’s face glazed over, pale and rocky-edged.

…THAT STUPID

MOTHER-FUCKER!!​

Either he liked to torture her, or he was too stupid to realize she was down there. Both made her grit her teeth. Where the HELL did he get that thing, anyway!? SHE WAS GONNA DIE.

Well, she wasn’t gonna scream, but it was time to abandon ship. Maybe she’d let someone know one her way out of the event. She went to the other end of the table, watching the centipede like a hawk.

She leveled herself to the ground like a bug herself. She poked her head out from under the cloth. The coast was relatively clear, and the table in front of her looked empty from the angle she was at. She came out from underneath the table and skittered across the floor to the next safe zone of cloth. She should have felt relieved.

Unfortunate that the table she had chosen by chance was to one that belonged to her king.

Spoiler

Elenion Aura thebigfella QuirkyAngel

​

 

[Peckinou]

Helva Linxal

CS Link

SCENE:

To live in the shadows

LOCATION:

Falcons Perch, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Helva, Charlie Roda the Red

To live in the shadows

To say Helva was disappointed would be a understatement as she began to curse under her breath, her surprise attack only sorta succeeded but she now had a idea on just what mans potential was. Helva opted to back away from the bigger man, in order to prepare herself for her other two assailants, but instead of having to deal with the both of them, they were both pretty much thrown outdoors by their blue haired waiter from earlier. Helva was surprised by that turn of events as she wasn't really expecting any sort of help with this, mission of hers, though it could complicate since they most likely had different sort of goals. Though Helva figured she would have more time to ponder over things later, as their adversary started to regain their bearings, Helva quickly opted to slash at the mans back, much to the same results as before, though she then reverted her attack to his legs, which also had no effect. By this point the man had recovered enough to wildly start swinging at her, cause Helva to back up so that she could stay out of harms way. She now knew that her first slash was just a moment that caught him off guard, now that his potential was active slashing at him would no longer be a viable option, which now meant, she needed a new tactic.

The man started to slowly regain his vision as he began to wipe away the hot coffee off of him, his anger was unmistakable and quickly started swinging at Helva. Though Helva refused to allow his fist to connect with her, instead it hit the wall, putting a complete hole through it, Helva knew that getting hit by him would hurt very much so she simply continued dodging playing that game of keep away as he swung towards her, each swing missing it's mark, until finally the man grew frustrated and charged towards her. Trying to same tackle their blue haired waiter had done on their teammates, but Helva was quick enough to duck down and charge past him, sweeping his feet out from under him in order to cause him to trip. While he did indeed trip and fall to the ground, Helva had hurt her leg in the process of the little stunt, almost as if she had kicked a strong pillar, she groaned in pain but knew that she had to focus and capitalize on her counter before he could recover. Helva went on to grab her tomahawk with both of her hands, and fell onto the mans back, making sure that the sharp point end of their tomahawk was aimed at the mans neck allowing for both her weight and gravity to help her apply as much force as possible into a single point. With the amount of force placed into the strike it was able to pierce the mans skin allowing for to go through his neck, the scream he made quickly turned into a gurgling of blood as his airway was soon cut off. He began to struggle intensely as but Helva simply swirled the end of her tomahawk around in order to try to quicken his death. Soon his struggles became weaker and weaker, until he finally stopped moving entirely, Helva soon withdrawing her tomahawk from the mans neck, sighing in annoyance as she tended to her hurt leg. It stung, but besides a bit of a bruise she was overall fine, she took a small break before getting back up, and deciding that it would be best to help the boy take down the other two men.
-----------------
The two men were both shocked when they were tackled and practically thrown outside, by the blue haired boy, they snapped out of their initial shock when Charlie began to speak though, quickly turning from shock to anger. "Alright you little bitch, i'm going to cut you up into pieces for getting in our way, then we are going to cut up that other bitch, if the boss doesn't already pummel her to death for her insolence." The man with daggers, then threw one of his daggers towards Charlie, using the strings to manipulate the direction it went in, while the sword man jumped to the side and charged at Charlie, preparing to deliver a slash towards his chest one they were close enough. Both of them were clearly angry, and determined to kill Charlie for getting in their way, and there focus was now entirely on him.