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

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Artemis Mac Naught
SCENE MUSIC:
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Ezra, Passeri, Vissarion, Hiachi, Markus,
Jesper, Jessamine, Tak, Elias
Clad in Golden Dreams

Just stay out of sight.

Yeah, that’s how people survive right? Fuck it would have been so much easier if she wasn’t being paid for being a server. She wondered vaguely if she cried to Miss Passeri if the boss lady would let her escape. Either way, she had the feeling that she should be informing her of the resident chaos happening between Sir Markus and whatever weirdos he was threatening, let alone whatever was causing Hiachi to go hide.

DID SHE JUST DUCK UNDER MARKUS’S TABLE? Oh hell no she was not getting caught in whatever was going to happen here. She did her best to hug the walls and make herself as small and unthreatening as possible as she scuttled along to the opposite end of the party. She snatched a tray with drinks away from another server sliding right into their position.

“Ah, hold on a sec. I got this, the boss said you’re to swap with me and head back over to the kitchens. It seems its time for food to start rolling out for the king’s table. Be sure not to spook the little lass under it.”

She knew the other wouldn’t usually give up the cushy position in the center of the hall, especially for something that would usually be spotted as a lie instantly, but with the intrigue of a good rumor, it was almost too easy. The second the implications came of Markus having a lady friend under his table hit the poor suckers were bound to circle around like vultures trying to get a good look at the potential dirty things that could be happening.

She watched them skirt off before straightening her back and speedwalking the drinks to her Boss for this event. She paused as she noted Passeri speaking with two people she instantly recognized. She felt herself relaxing without meaning to as she approached. With a squeaky voice, she jumped into their conversation with little grace.

“Hey Vissa, Hey Ezra, nice seeing you both. Lovely day we’re having, right? Right? ALSO MISS PASSERI Markus is causing a scene and Hiachi might die because she decided to crawl under his table. Also Imayhavejustaddedtothatinarumormilltoescape. SORRY! Please don’t make me deal with them. Please.”

The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit Lucem Lucem Slav Slav Elenion Aura Elenion Aura miki miki

 
Artemis Mac Naught
SCENE MUSIC:
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 5th 2022
LOCATION:
Argentium Stadium, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Vissa ( Slav Slav )
ABCs of Sportsball

“Paying someone to carry me sounds shady.”

Ultimately she wasn’t sure she was entirely against the idea but she tolerated few people touching her for long so that was shot down almost immediately as an actual prospect. She stuck her tongue out at him for the suggestion well aware it was a bit of a childish gesture.

“Sides it's not like many people would line up for that job. How would you even find one? Unless you're offering?”

She let herself be led around the crowd keeping herself as close to Vissa as she could without outright attaching to his side. Luckily enough the concession stand was more than empty enough to get some breathing room. She would have followed Vissa when he went to grab his beer if not for the unnatural ease with which he navigated the damn place. It was clear he was as in his element as she wasn’t.

"That hits the spot."

Without thinking twice she twirled into his space and swiped the drinking down snagging a swig from his cup. It probably showed immediately on her face how little she liked it. Okay, that was certainly beer. She let go leaving the drink still in his hand before looking back up.

“That’s awful that’s really what you drink at your games?”

No this was a travesty that really needed to be fixed. She almost didn’t register Vissa’s offer to pay, even when she did she waved it off immediately as being friendly. Instead she scanned the other booths looking for something barlike. She spotted one across the way and shot Vissa back a cheeky grin.

“How about we get some real drinks and get some on Zombies?”

 
HITOSHI YAMAKAWA
CS Link
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
TIME:
Post Arc-3; 2 1/2 weeks later
LOCATION:
The Old Dojo, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Ashley, Gideon, Hector, Kaede
GET(TING) HELP

The meal went without a hitch, as everyone enjoyed their orders and given to them. A good start to today's events thus far as Hitoshi pulled out some cash and paid for everyone's food, though how the elder Phoenix could afford it was anyone's guess. Hitoshi stood up from his seating and streched his back, rubbing his stomach after eating such a delicious pizza - even as simple as it was in its garnishing - and groaned. "Whoo, I'm stuffed! Gotta burn those carbs now." Hitoshi commented with a chuckle, before motioning with his head towards the road. "Lets head on over and get them burned!"

The walk from Kiki's Eatery took about 10 minutes, with the way mostly shielded by shade fortunately as the mid-day heat began to grow in intensity. Turning left on the road, then right, then left again into a smaller street brought the group of Phoenixes into a less-traveled street of smaller, specialty shops that one would have to go out of their way to find if they had not known about it before. The buildings themselves were old, built in the 60s, made of concrete and constructed simply as rectangles and cubes that emphasized lower cost and function over appearances. Though this smaller region of commerce has seen better days in decades past, as there were plenty of vacant places that remained unfilled after their original tenants left long ago.

One such place held a faded wooden sign that, barely legibly, wrote "Jiro's Dojo" with its Sankai lettering underneath. The name had been carved into the sign itself, but due to its advanced age it had eroded much of its former glory. Much like the inside as Hitoshi unlocked the doors with a spare key and entered with the others following suit, all of whom were greeted by the smell of stale air. It was obvious that nobody had been here for many years, as much of the place was practically untouched since last the doors opened to outsiders. Dust caked some of the windowsills and equipment, while the lights remained off.

"Crap, one sec..." Hitoshi muttered as he rushed over to the fusebox nearby. He slipped the covering open and fumbled around the switches for a moment before finding the most important one. "Alright, hope this works!"

A click sounded in the air, causing the lights of the main room to flicker on as their old bulbs struggled at first before letting off a gentle hum. The place was now illuminated, giving a proper look for everyone who had joined Hitoshi at its interior. A large mat covered the main floor as the main sparring area, while dummy weapons lined the back wall of the place as practice for styles that one might want: quarterstaff, sword, batons and more. There were also several training dummies, including a wooden pole with several prongs at various points jutting out from it, to practice hand to hand techniques solo.

"it's been... oh, it's been a while." Hitoshi said, forgetting just how long ago he had last stepped in here. The memories flooded in in his earliest days when he was a hothead, and when Jiro - that old bastard - was still around and kicking. He learned everything he had known from the old man, and so too did-

He stopped himself in his tracks from finishing the thought as he shook his head briefly before recomposing himself just as quickly. "Alright, make free use of whatever you want! I'm down to practice with whomever."


Roda the Red Roda the Red WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 
Last edited:
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
Everyone's a Critic
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 9th 2022
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Takakazu
Everyone's a Critic
Debora Hillclad...A name pretty much synonimous with the concept of art in the current day. Painter, sculptor, designer and architect, the thirty-three year-old woman climbed her way up in the art world with unparalleled levels of inspiration, hard work and modesty, after 15 years in the business, Debora was now an artist known worldwide due to the myriad of breathtaking pieces to her name, each new work surpassing the last. Not only that, but as far as the public new, she was the face of philantropy, always taking the initiative when it comes to arranging charity events and even making her brand new exhibition in New Oasis completely free for the public! By her own words, the people of the city had suffered greatly due to the earthquake, so perhaps free access to her exhibition could help raise the spirits of the public. Magazines or television shows never stop wanting to feature this truly one-of-a-kind, outstanding human being.

Or at least that's what the media loves to shove down your throat, the masses just LOVE a squeaky-clean story of an underdog that rises to the top to become a selfless pillar of society. Well, 'Outstanding human being' my ass, as Debora Hillclad is in fact a narcissistic egomaniac with a short fuse and a lack of empathy for anyone that works under her, and every kind action that she claims to do are nothing but carefully-calculated decisions made to embelish her public image, even her actual philantropic work usually tends to be a big lie, with the majority of the money raised often ending up in either hers, or other greedy hands from the people at the top of the ladder.

Well, allegedly, of course.

Those are the claims that some of her former assistants and managers have claimed in the past, well at least that's what a third party claims, as supposedly, the mere display of criticism from a couple former workers resulted in the public image turned to shreds, as well as becoming blacklisted in ever respectable place in the art world. Hence these claims were only private, accumulated over the span of a few years by a single man. Theodore McAlister was a fellow world-class artist, although not necessarily to the level of notoriety of Hillclad. The gentleman has garnered a bit of an infamous reputation for being critical of Debora for several years now, always remining adamant about his position, no matter how bad the response from the fans may have gotten at times.

With knowledge of the upcoming exhibition in New Oasis, and having gathered enough tales from former abused workers, Theo decided that it was time to take action. And obviously 'taking action' actually means paying a very generous sum to someone that would be actually willing to do something. Truth was that there was one more small group of people that the artist had reached out to...Smaller creators, just a handful of them, but sharing one specific claim: She had copied their works, a blatantly plagiarizing paintings and scultures alike, ones that had been sold for insane prices or recieved endless praise by the critics. Problem is, they don't understand how it was possible, as her plagiarism would often go public so quickly after the originals were made, the real artists would be the ones framed as copycats, given the power imbalance and all. But the truth was still there (allegedly), and someone had to find a way to shine a light on this vile act once and for all.

And that's what take us to today, word of the offer quickly reached the ears of some of Camila's many contacts, and thus eventually, the woman herself. Truth is that she wasn't really interested in any kind of moral drive or need for justice. But in her years experiencing both the underbelly of society, as well as being constantly in close proximity of the city's high class, there was something that the Tiger was sure of: Such a pristine figure was nothing but a load of bullshit, simply NO ONE gets so high in the societal pyramid without having to hide a number of skeletons in their closet. The (alleged) pattern was all too familiar, all too authentic, and above all, it sounded like the perfect kind of job for her.

Without giving it much consideration, Camila took the job, and the objective was simple: Enter the exhibition and explore it from head to toes, listen to the people, check the works for any evidence of forgery, and if possible, try to get information out of Hillclad herself, without resorting to a direct confrontation, of course, discretion was the key the task.

Clearly this job was going to be a bit too difficult for the veteran alone, the gallery was just too big, too many artworks, too many people and certainly too many places where their target might be. Indeed, she needed a helping hand, a 'minion', if you will. And fortunately, gathering people willing to do work for her has been one of Camila's main concerns in the last several months, ever since her humiliating failure back in September of last year...

In any case, she knew exactly what kind of help she needed: Someone smart, someone capable of cleverly getting information out of people, someone with a very keen eye capable of spotting small imperfections, and most of all, someone who knew how to do all of this while keeping a nice low profile. Yes, indeed the perfect man to call for the job was...


. . .


. . .

T...

Tak???

Yes, he was the one Camila had decided to bring along to the exhibition. Now you may be asking yourself, had this breathtakingly beautiful, smart and successful woman lost her marbles? Well, not really, or maybe not for the most part.

Despite displaying the tact of an ogre and the wit of a pug, Tak had proved himself to be a capable man who was capable of getting the job done, although in a wise move, Camila had only contracted the man to do work that could mainly be resolved with a good old-fashioned fisticuff so far. But that was about to end today. The man had potential, call it a hunch, but the veteran just knew that he was capable of so much more. Thus, despite of her worries about him turning into a liability, she decided to take this opportunity to test Takakazu, to see if he was able to tackle a job with a bit more...elegance.

Camila stood in front of the exhibition, the entry hall of the establishment was bustling with people both coming and going. An unsurprising sight considering the fact that the show was absolutely free, you may call it an act of selflesness, but Camila saw it as nothing but a publicity stunt. She looked at her watch, still quite early, not even noon, they had plenty of time to give the whole place a thorough look from top to bottom, she only hoped that the man she waited for had not slept in, or that he remembered to wear the nicer clothes that she left prepared for him. Truth is that Camila found his uncaring choice of clothing somewhat charming, but even the people who arrived because of the free entry decided to show up with something better than messy sweatshirts, and she didn't want him to stick out like a sore thumb.

Look around her perimeter, the veteran awaited for her ally to appear, for better or for worse.


thebigfella thebigfella
 
Zentsupa Pei
CS Link
SCENE:
Doused Flames Bring Lost Ashes
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
TIME:
2019 || Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Eleanore (@mechanicalmania)
Doused Flames Bring Lost Ashes


A tree was not grown to stand in the way of a pathway of a rampaging boulder. That was a conclusion that anyone could reach. Nothing stands up just knowing it would be pushed down, it makes no fundamental sense.

Walking in the way of Eleanore, it must have meant that Pei didn’t have any intention of becoming prey to an unstoppable object, that’s what common sense would dictate. He stood with the belief his roots would hold the strength to not break against the impact.

He didn't exhibit any of the attributes of a majestic tree that is naturally stationed to block the boulder rolling down the hill. His body was like that of a twig, his posture lacked any weight being put into his legs. He hadn’t planted himself to the ground as much as he had simply decided to take a brief tour of the path of destruction.

What was he thinking was a complete mystery, was he thinking at all? The way he spoke gave the notion of a mindless thug, an overconfident delinquent in way over his head. He didn’t know anything, just like she thought.

Though, the reason he was oblivious wasn’t because he was in over his head, an egotistical nuisance that wanted everything handed to him with a silver spoon.

It was because knowing everything wasn’t fun.

There was something going on in his head, something no one could comprehend. In just a split second before Eleanore could unleash her potential, his mind had already instructed his eyes to focus with precision, a tiny interval that would have gone unnoticed by anyone, yet a crucial moment that could make or break the future in different circumstances.

He watched the woman’s visage split, her flesh tearing from itself and forming to another like she had undergone mitosis. The only signal that he recognized what had happened was the slightest widening of his eyes, but as they went from one to two, his pair of eyes didn’t deviate from their target, he stared at her up until the tight grip on his shoulder formed into a powerful toss that sent him through the air, his feet pulled off the ground and tossed into the air. He landed flat onto his back, the force of his landing giving him a bit of bounce as he skidded across the ground, the bubble of gum popping and covering his mouth as he laid there, eyes shadowed by his hair, only showing the neutral expression on his lips.

He remained motionless, showing no sign of getting up to continue his annoying behavior, nor did he utter any curses or make any sounds of pain or suffering. He lay lifeless as he was told one simple thing.

”Go home.”

Like a piece of trash he was disposed of, forgotten as she walked into HQ, leaving him to look up towards the sky, alone in silence. The guards who were present only looked on, unsurprised by the anticipated outcome. He had bit up more than he could chew, flew too close to the nest and got burned by the Phoenixes flame. The only question was how would he react? Would he be insulted, pride-shattered, and call off his support? Would he seek his sponsorship elsewhere?

“Kekekekeke…”

No, instead he chuckled, a restrained laugh compared to his boisterous cackling of before. His hand reached up and grabbed the gum around his lips, pulling it off as he rose to sit up, tossing the wad to the side. The corners of his mouth rose up high across his cheeks, the same demonic smile from before making its return like nothing had happened.

He tilted his head down slightly as he inhaled a large gulp of air through his nose, bracing his arms as he pushed back his elbows, charging up for his next move. His head snapped upward as his hands opened to cup around his mouth.

“KIIIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYYSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

The resonance of his voice reverberated in the area, its amplification extending so far that the attention shifted from Pei towards the heavens, revealing the expanse it had journeyed through, while the chaotic ruin of the South District appeared increasingly blurred in the distance as his voice journeyed further and further away.

Then it was back to ground level, turned upward to the sky just in time for a tiny silhouette to descend from above, soaring down like a falcon as its bright red body blurred like a bullet. It stopped just in time before crashing into Pei, slowing down to idly flap its wings in front of Pei’s face. It looked like a monstrous bat-like creature, its mouth in a twisted grin that matched Pei’’s perfectly. “Kikikiki! You rang?!”

“Kiys! Round-up some of my minions!”
Pei commanded as he pushed himself back to his feet, placing a pair of fingers around his chin as he looked towards Phoenix HQ with a devious glint in his eye, “Bring that shitty scrapbot! And that annoying ass mosquito fairy, so I can keep him juiced up! Bring my fuckin’ laptop too!” Pei began to rattle off demands.

Kiys replied with a sharp salute, "Yes, sir! Kikiki!” not even sparing a second before flapping his wings and taking back off in the air like a rocket, gone as quick as he came.

Pei found himself standing alone, once again. He sauntered back to his previous spot, exactly where Eleanore had earlier thrown him. He swiftly dropped himself down to sit, crossing his legs and gazing directly at the front doors of the headquarters.

Before he had only squatted in the spot waiting for someone to catch his eye, but this was completely different. The guards posted outside sensed a palpable shift in the air surrounding the boy. It was as if an eerie atmosphere had descended upon him, manifesting almost visibly, the faint sound of his subdued, malicious giggles could just be discerned.

Just what was he planning?






“Professor… I’m starting to get tired…”

A shrill robotic complaint brought the scene forward to its next segment of time. The sunlight had faded away, giving way to the dark tones of the night. The few streetlights that were still working emitted dim light, creating new shadows in their wake. The moon hung above in the sky, accompanied by a handful of stars. The night air was crisp as the temperature had dropped.

As the night fell, the streets became deserted, devoid of the wandering souls who were trying to make sense of their existence. They were forced to seek refuge and rest in order to resume their search for meaning the next day. Shelters were set up to provide relief to those affected by the catastrophe.

“You useless piece of trash! Oi fairy! Give him another jab before I tear your damn wings off!” Pei demanded.

“Y-Yes!” A terrified woman responded.

A collection of voices were full of life, despite how late it had gotten. The abrasiveness of Pei was known well enough, but the newcomers?

“YEEEEEEEAAOOOOOOW!”

A square-shaped Playmate soared into the sky, emitting an agonized cry while clutching his steel derrière, as tears streamed from his eyes like majestic fountains. After his massive amount of height he landed back onto the ground, his metal feet clattering as his body rattled like an empty can.

With an air of confidence, he flexed his arms, letting steam escape his mouth and the gaps in his metal plating. The pain he had just endured seemed insignificant as he proclaimed, "I'm fully charged! Pi-po-po!~.” He shouted energetically, a bit of steam coming out of his nose like a bull.

Pei swiftly extended his hand, armed with a two-pronged plug, forcefully piercing the robot's skull. Instantly, the Playmate's courageous performance was shattered as its lifeless body collapsed, face down on the ground.

"Q-Bot, are you alright?!" With a gentle and concerned voice, a small, humanoid creature descended gracefully with its angelic wings to check on the safety of the robot.

“That piece of scrap will be fine.” Unapologetically Pei gave Q-Bot a kick, flipping the robot to his other side to show he was still conscious, albeit motionless. He raised a weak arm to give a thumbs up, “I-I’m a Super Robot Hero, something like this is n-nothing!” He weakly stammered out, before his hand dropped back down like a wet noodle, leaving Lala to watch his state anxiously.

Pei walked along the cord he had plugged in, his eyes fixed on a small gray laptop. The reason behind his actions became clear as he dropped to the ground and hunched his posture to bring his face closer to the screen. With his fingers moving rapidly on the keyboard, he typed away, laughing menacingly. Kiys was perched on his shoulder, echoing his laughter in perfect synchronicity as they savored their activity on the computer.


“He’s still here…” The voice of a tired guard watched the scene, bags formed underneath her eyes as they saw Pei and his friends illuminated by the bright screen of his laptop.

“...and he brought company…” Another guard added on, he looked just as tired as the first.

“... And a computer.” A third guard added on, fitting right in with the other two, just in time for all three of them to drop their heads in unison. There was a moment of silence as from the sidelines a group of toy beavers waddled past, holding tiny cups of coffee and lunch boxes as they got back from break.

This whole situation had become ridiculous, really fast.




 
Last edited:
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Everyone's A Critic
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
DATE:
June 30th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila ( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Takakazu
Everyone's A Critic

“Fuck.

The first word that hit the man’s alcohol rattled mind came out of his mouth. His lifeless eyes stared toward his white ceiling, in all its chipped-paint and rotting wood-decorated glory. As he shifted on the sofa, its creaking echoed through the room. His vision, hazy and distorted, was bombarded by the piercing glow emanating from the television screen. Instinctively, he raised his arm to shield his eyes and safeguard his retinas, only then sensing the pulsating ache in his head.

Half-empty bottles were strewn across the table, some even on the ground, leaving damp spots on the soiled rug. The labels of cheap booze and alcohol, another night full of drinking by himself as he watched late night talk shows to pass the time.

His dried hand reached up to his face, dragging across it just to stop as soon as he had a gap between his fingers big enough for one of his eyes to peer through, looking downward at his attire. His white tank-top wasn’t a stranger to stains, but the splotches of powdered cheddar cheese and dried beer around his neckline wasn’t doing him any favors; the black shorts he was wearing were starting to rise up into his asscrack too.

Despite the immediate despair of knowing that he had to clean up after his past self, the insufferable motherfucker, there was something else much more important bugging him. Something much more dire. Part of him wanted to think it was a dream, a made-up event in his drink-addled mind. He reached towards his phone, missing the mark a bit and instead grasping at air as he tried to grip onto the tiny smartphone, bringing it up to his face and pressing the button on the side.

As soon as his eyes glossed over the past calls, he sunk his back into the couch, breathing an audible sigh.

“Shit… It really did happen…” He murmured, the hand around his face finally dropping from its position around the upper half of his face to cup around his chin. Her number was there as clear as day, and he remembered answering it far more vividly than he liked to say.

It was that of his on-and-off employer, Tiger vet, Camila.

He was always a fan of her calls, who wouldn’t be? Whenever she called it meant that it was a chance for some real dough, a moment where he could splurge for the night and get some food from the restaurant around the corner with the undercooked rice and the rat traps placed in every corner. This time wasn’t any different in that aspect, but the way she worded it told him it wouldn’t be any normal job.

He couldn’t remember it all clearly, no matter how hard he tried. The constant haze around his mind kept him from piecing together the full picture, but he could recall a handful of keywords. Proving himself, using tact, espionage, all types of words that made him feel ill…

Nah, that was just the cheap liquor bubbling unhappily in his stomach. Still, he wasn’t a fan of his words. He had no problem taking jobs from Camila, and there was no way he was gonna turn one down, but there was one teeny little problem…

“I don’t remember a single damn thing about what the job was about.” Tak’s eyes went bloodshot as his pupils shrunk with a guttural crunching sound, his teeth gritting in frustration. He had signed himself for something outside his wheelhouse last night, and he didn’t even have any idea what it was about.

“What the fuck does she have me doing espionage for, huh? Did she call the wrong number? Do I have the definition wrong of what it means? Does ‘espionage’ actually mean going around and beating everyone up?” Tak rambled about a possible explanation for why Camila would want him to do a mission relying on things he had zero capabilities in performing. He was a man who relied solely on his physical strength, and he took great pride in this characteristic. The thought of being presented with a job that was outside his area of expertise was something he simply could not fathom.

“Are we going after the president of a Homeowners Association? Does she need a bodyguard just in case they whip out some pistols? Is the mayor being held hostage, and she needs someone to be a distraction? Are we going to the grocery store and scanning steaks as tomatoes? They’re called beefsteaks, right? It’s close enough, right!?” Tak only went into a deeper tangent as he clutched at his hair, nervous sweat starting to drip down from his forehead.

For a moment, he maintained an overwhelmingly anxious posture until he was suddenly hit by a wave of realization. Visibly relaxing, he chuckled to himself and shook his head at his own foolishness, thinking out loud, "What the hell am I freaking out about? All I gotta do is call her back up and tell her I was drunk, and I need her to explain the job again! It’s that simple! She’ll totally understand!” Tak nodded his head to agree with himself and his outward musing, bringing his phone back up in front of his face. But instead of pushing any buttons on it to send a text or make a phone call, he silently stared at it, for a long, long time.

“LIKE HELL I CAAAAANNNNN!” Tak rose up to his feet, his eyes going a blank white in his self-inflicted rage as he tossed his phone against the ground, the rubber casing making it bounce off the ground and fly off in the distance as Tak once again reached up to clutch at his hair, “If I called her up with that shitty ass explanation she’d think I’m a fuckin’ idiot!” Tak worried, oblivious to the fact that Camila was already well aware that he was an idiot, sweat formed on his forehead again as a nervous half-smirk appeared on his face, “She’s gave me a new type of job with this espionage crap, if I come out the gate acting incompetent…”

Tak's voice trailed off as he could vividly picture Camila's reaction: a purple-tinted image of her scorn hovering above him. Her disapproval was so immense that it momentarily replaced the backdrop of his untidy apartment with a distorted violet hue. Tak felt as though he was shrinking in comparison to the magnitude of her displeasure.

“There’s no way I can do that! She’s the only reason I can afford to eat 3 days a week!” Tak wailed towards the ceiling, throwing his head backward as he was consumed by anxiety about the situation.


manga_font2_1.png

“Delivery!”

“Eh?”


The sudden knocking of his door broke Tak entirely out of his spiraling madness, freezing in place as his pupils shrunk slightly. Awkwardly he dropped the dramaticism, hands dropping back down to his side as he walked towards his door. He swung it open without much hesitation, assaulted by the morning light and the chirping of birds as he entered into the outside world. His eyes squinted as they quickly tried to adjust to the change, looking left and right before finally looking down.

A small yet significant briefcase lay at his feet, evoking a sense of inherent value and profound urgency that surpasses that of a mere package or parcel when it arrives at your doorstep.

“I don’t remember ordering anything,” an importance that was completely lost on Tak as he stuck a finger up his nose, picking at a booger as he stared down at the briefcase, leaning against his door frame, Oh well,” he brushed the weirdness off immediately, tossing a booger off his finger before picking up the briefcase and bringing it inside, closing the door behind him with a slam.




He had sat on the floor of his apartment, silently staring at the briefcase on the ground in front of him. It had been a handful of minutes, and he was still just staring at it, only the faint sounds of morning news on the background coming from the speakers of television being the only sound.

“... Guess I should open it,” he finally reasoned, leaning forward to grab the latches of the suitcase, unclasping them with audible clicks. It popped wide open, revealing its contents to Tak, the position of the perspective over his shoulder causing his body to block the view of the interior.

“Huh…? This is…” Tak commented on what was inside, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was completely alien to him, “Is this some fancy clothing? Guessin' Camila sent it?” He questioned, crossing his arms and leaning back slightly, “That’s weird…if I saw someone walkin’ around with this I’d be lookin’ at ‘em weird. Walking around with a fancy suit and tie like you own the place. Ain’t espionage supposed to be about being sneaky? Shouldn’t I be wearing a disguise?” The gears in Tak’s brain turned in reverse as he tilted his head side to side, staring at the contents of the briefcase. Thinking that he was missing something. It was only through this ridiculous mindset that a dimly, cobweb-ridden lightbulb went off in his head, sputtering to life.

“I get it! This is my first task! I gotta turn this thing into a good disguise!” He reasoned, slamming a fist into his palm as his eyes widened in understanding, finally putting the pieces together. It only made sense after all, an important part of espionage was knowing what to wear, right?

Tak leaned forward again, getting a closer look inside the briefcase, “So how do I turn this into a disguise…? Hmm. I think I got some old spray paint back from my graffiti days hanging around…”




"Debora is definitely an artist who will leave a mark for generations to come. It must have cost a fortune to rent a place like this, and yet she’s letting everyone enter for free?”

“Everyone’s usually in it for the money, but she’s different, isn’t she? Seems like she’s actually using her talent for good.”

“I wonder if her art piece “Wicked Crown” will be on display? It is truly amazing to witness how she transforms the idea of King
Myards' rule in the Middle Ages from a self-portrait with a royal representation to a distorted portrayal of neo-Gothic materialism."

“I just hope security is tight, no doubt there will be some unsavory types who are going to think about putting their unsavory hands onto some of the pictures while no ones looking.”


The chatter of pompous art snobs and casual enjoyers of artistic expression all melded together in a hodgepodge of comments and general observations. The venue was bustling with all types of life; despite the exhibit being free the usual showcases of high profile artists with equally high prices of viewing had naturally brought a regal air to Feralia Art Gallery and its common perusers, its articulate architecture didn’t do it any favors in this aspect, its liberal use of expensive marble, golden accents, and red velvet established it as an attraction made for the upper-echelons. No one would be caught dead walking into such a place with a t-shirt and sweatpants, or they would become the target of many dirty states and unsavory comments.

And almost on cue, the air of surroundings shifted. A single footstep caused heads to turn, eyes to widen, mouths to hang agape. Some people stopped what they were doing, while others continued to move along with only a side-eye, but the attention was definitive. He entered the scene with polished black slacks, a pair of sunglasses, and slicked back hair, and that’s exactly where the normalcy ended. The combination of a pearl white suit and its matching pants had been entirely desecrated, stained forever with the squiggles and doodles of spray paint across the surface, it came in many bright distracting colors in different hues, uneven lines and disjointed circles, like a child was let loose on an empty canvas. He also wore jewelry around his fingers, if your definition of jewelry was two lollipops in the shape of rings and a bracelet made out of shiny looking plastic. Not even the untarnished parts of the outfit could rescue this fiasco, with the golden cuff links misplaced and the tie dangling loosely around his neck.

Despite looking like a fashion abomination, he strutted past with his head held high, a smirk on his face as he had nearly every bit of attention placed upon him. As he walked past people, their hushed whispers began to start.

“Who is he? Some kind of famous art critic?”

“With what he’s wearing, he has to be someone important.”

“Wearing an expressionist representation on his clothing, he’s made himself a walking art piece…! That is dedication!”

“I have no idea who he is, but I might ask for an autograph!”


No way, it's impossible!

Could it be that his attire was just so ridiculous, it had looped back around, a complete rotation, to being genius camouflage?!

It probably wasn’t much of a mystery to whom this walking mistake of a man was, but as he walked up to her with a single hand in his pocket, any doubt would be dealt with immediately.

“Yo, little lady. You here alone?” Tak asked his candy-blinged hand reaching up to push his sunglasses up from the bridge, looking down at Camila with his pupiless eyes and a wink. Well it would have been a wink if he knew how to wink, so it was more of an awkward looking blink.

Her ally had arrived, for better AND for worse!

 
Last edited:
PEYTON XIONG
SCENE:
Meet and Grit
LOCATION:
The Third Eye, Central District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || Morning of July 8th
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Keith

MEET AND GRIT
Keith said yes! Happiness surged within Peyton, glad that he managed to get more out of this trip than just a signature. He didn't catch the somber tone in Keith's voice, but he did hear Keith's words. It didn't surprise him to hear that the teachings of the Dragons in the East meant that there were members of the populace who disliked the Serpents immensely. Peyton wondered what the red hair guy would think when he learned that Peyton was a Serpent.

"You're right! The Serpents ruin everything!" Peyton said.

In stark contrast to Keith's bitter demeanor, Peyton maintained his chipper, happy tune. His cheeks were dusted with pink, the blush giving away his happiness. He loved the Serpents. The chaos ironically meshed better with Peyton's philosophies of order than the rigid structure of the Dragons. The high of running alongside the snakes was addicting. And he met some of his best friends through the Serpents. It was simply, the best.

Peyton wanted the Serpents to ruin him ❤

Peyton's attention was suddenly snatched by the hubbub at the front of the line. It seemed that the signing finally was beginning to commence. If Keith's prediction of forty-five minutes was correct... then it was the perfect amount of time for Peyton to finish his tub of ice cream before it melted into a glob. As the people at the front of the line began moving, Peyton took small steps forward.

"Wanna share phone numbers?" Peyton asked, taking advantage of the fact that Keith had his phone out. He took out his own phone, opening up his contacts, "I can text you when I have my shift schedule down!"

He also couldn't help but delve deeper into Keith's dissatisfaction with the Serpents, especially since he was about to befriend one. He leaned forward furtively until he was almost within Keith's personal space and asked, "Mmm are you uncomfy being around Serpents? Is coming going to the north gonna be a problem?"
Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Gideon Gray
SCENE:
We Who Remain
LOCATION:
South district, Phoenix HQ; Shady's Clinic, first floor
TIME:
May 31st, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Milo, Gideon, Boltius, a big list of other people
We Who Remain
It hurt. Gideon woke up feeling pain. His first instinct was to reach over and grab a bottle of ibuprofen, but then he realized that he wasn't in his dorm room. Additionally, it seemed like his arm was slung in a cast. Moreover, this wasn't the sort of pain that a few tablets of pain relief medication could staunch. Groaning, Gideon forced himself to sit up. Where was he? What was happening?

Then, all the memories flooded back. The battle at the police station, the monstrous things that tore everyone apart, the escape through Lower Central. Of how Boltius almost bled to death until they met up with Milo, of the nerve wracking trudge over to their rendezvous location by stretcher. Of how Dr. Shady checked them in and gave Gideon a place to rest.

Oh no. Was Boltius alright?

A burst of adrenaline made Gideon turn around in his bed as if to get out, but he sighed in relief when he spotted Boltius, along with Milo in the room. They were all okay, somehow in one piece.

Gideon moved to get out of bed, only to hiss in pain. Putting pressure on his broken leg sent a spike of agony coursing through his bones. Looking for something to brace himself with, Gideon found a cane resting near his bed, which he used to pull himself to his feet. His mouth felt dry, as if he had swallowed a bag of sand, so he made his way to the water dispenser in the corner of the room to pour himself a cup of water.

"Want one?" Gideon asked Boltius, offering to pour him a cup of water. It wasn't the most graceful of first words since waking up, but Gideon had never been well-versed with words. And so it made his next words all the more difficult. Gideon heaved a sigh and despondently said, "I'm so so sorry, Bolt. If I hadn't been so hasty, maybe you wouldn't have those injuries."

He felt incredibly guilty, seeing Boltius all injured and bedridden. As if to drink down his guilt, Gideon poured himself another cup of water and downed it.

"Thanks for the help back there," Gideon said to Milo, the mixed feelings he felt at the matter visible on his face. He was grateful that Milo didn't take the opportunity to kill off Gideon. And he was grateful for the teamwork that Milo showed. But as the villain of the story, he didn't like being in anyone's debt. Especially not to Milo. And Gideon very much disliked how functional of a team he and Milo made.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
 
Inigo Han
SCENE:
Cleaning Duty
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Inigo
CLEANING DUTY

“I never do ‘fancy’,” Inigo scoffed as he tossed the menu aside.

He braced himself, and clenched his fists tight. “I just do what works.” With a guttural roar, he brought forth his crystals, erupting from his skin in multitudes of miniature cascading mountains, crawling up his arms from his fingers to his shoulders. He drew his arms back, the crystals grinding and cracking as they shifted to accommodate the movement. The ruffians had now turned their attention and their guns towards him, hoping, in vain, that their bullets might delay the inevitable. No chance. Not a goddamn chance in hell. Even as the small caliber rounds struck him, the dull stings could do little but stoke his fire, and now it was time to let loose the inferno.

“This party is OVER!” He punched forwards with both arms.

The barrage of crystals met with Eric’s arrows of light. The incandescent streaks of the arrows that met with the refractive nature of the crystals sent streams of radiance throughout the establishment. The lightshow was accompanied by the exclamations of pain as both officers’ Potentials met their targets. All that was left of them were a pile of groaning bodies on the ground and several crystals embedded in the walls around them, still aglow and glinting with Eric’s light.

Inigo straightened up, dusting the diamonds from his palms. A siren could be heard in the distance. “That sounds like the rest of the latecomers. Too bad the bell’s already rung, huh, Eric?” He adjusted his patrol cap and flashed his partner a smirk.




Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
celestine renee cadieux
SCENE:
blurred borders
LOCATION:
hartswan terrace, north district
TIME:
pre-arc 1 || october 25th, 2019 - night
PARTICIPANTS:
darius, celestine
blurred borders
Celestine watched as Darius backed himself into a corner and a wave of guilt crashed over her. If only she had been more patient, then maybe things would have gone differently.

"Oh, but it is my fault..." Celeste's voice was soft as she turned to him with a sad smile, "I should not have escalated things as quickly as I did."

Sniffing, she rose to her feet and walked over to Darius, crouching down in front of him so he wouldn't have to look at the bloody scene before him, "We do have to bring them back, but you just leave that to me. I do not want you to worry about it."

With a sigh, Celestine turned around and began gathering the bodies, carrying them to the other room and placing them in a row. She had brought some body bags just in case things went south and went out to the van to grab them, returning shortly after and putting each body into its own bag. Celeste was careful to gather all of the pieces she could of each person before zipping them up and tossing them into the back of the van.

Now that she had gotten that out of the way, Celeste returned to Darius and crouched beside him again. He looked so far from okay and she couldn't help but feel responsible for making him feel this way. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she quickly blinked them away, meeting his gaze evenly, "Will you be alright? Is there anything I can do for you?"

Celestine was genuinely concerned for his well-being and part of her wanted to offer to wipe this whole thing from his memory- at least then he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.



WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Back in the Game
LOCATION:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 5th
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo
BACK IN THE GAME

Zoos made Milo uncomfortable in a hazy, undefined sort of way. In a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. By all accounts, the animals didn't seem like they were being mistreated. They had plenty of space, plenty of sun, plenty of anything they could need. Was a life lived inside of a cage—a gilded cage, even—really so bad? Milo didn't know the answer to that. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't want to wrestle with those deep, unsettling implications right now.

Milo smiled and nodded. Charlie's assertion was correct. It would be nice.

It would be nice for a lot of things to happen.

Reality often paints a different picture.

He nodded again as Elizabeth explained. He didn't have the heart to say what was on his mind. That 'nature' and 'innocence' didn't necessarily belong in the same sentence. Nature could be cruel. Nature could be harsh. Would she be so enchanted by the tigers if she could see their teeth, their claws? Out of sight, out of mind—a gilded cage—, but that didn't change the facts.

"I think for all their faults, people have their moments." Milo said, half-defending Hitoshi, half-advancing his own system of beliefs. He couldn't help it. Man or beast, they were all creatures of habit in the end.

Again, he restrained himself. For all her terseness, Elizabeth was an optimist. Milo had read a little here and there. One article in particular doubted if the Kaibal Tiger population could ever be replenished. They were too far gone. Sometimes, things go away for good. A bitter pill that Milo had swallowed once before.

Milo's gaze lingered on the exhibit and he nearly missed Elizabeth's cue to move on. Hurrying so as not to be left behind, Milo listened silently as Elizabeth droned on; her knowledge of her chosen field was almost encyclopedic in nature, as though she had memorized and was reciting passages from a book that she'd read. Milo looked at the creature and thought it looked lonely.

Everyone needs a friend.

Milo blinked as Elizabeth gave orders to Hitoshi and Charlie in turn. He turned toward her, half-expecting to be asked to fetch a quartet of overpriced baseball caps emblazoned with the zoo's insignia. When the directive never came, and after Hitoshi and Charlie shuffled off to do as they were bid, Milo stood beside Elizabeth, the two of them alone amongst the crowd.

Feeling as though he may never get another chance, Milo asked what had been on his mind since they’d arrived at Elizabeth’s door, ever since he’d first laid eyes on their peculiar, young charge.

“Why were we hired, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth turned to Milo, with a brief hint of surprise laced across her face before she sighed. “My last bodyguards were… dismissed. Something about them handing information against my father. So, you’re the replacements for today until a new group is assigned.”

But she quickly figured that that’s not the answer that Milo was after. For a moment she considered telling the whole truth, as she viewed the Phoenix as more intelligent than the other two that had been assigned this job. Instead, she shook her head: “The world I live in, because of the family I’m a part of, is to be alone. Ironic, isn’t it? To have everything in the world, yet to have nothing at the same time.”

She turned her head back towards the exhibit with a look that Milo could recognize as being one of hidden melancholy. “But the animals. To have nothing yet the world is everything to them. Blissful ignorance.”

Milo wrinkled his nose. It still didn’t all make sense to him. He wanted to ask her many things, most of them inappropriate for a bodyguard. It would’ve been simpler if he just didn’t care, did the job as written, and got on with his life. Unfortunately, Milo had never been good at ‘just getting on’.

"Elizabeth," Milo said after a moment of silence, choosing his next words with care. "Is there anything about your life you would change if you could?" A wholly inconsequential question. It got him no closer to the truth. Milo felt almost silly for even asking.

“To not have a target on my back.” The response was quick and blunt as Elizabeth kept her gazy towards the wolverine’s habitat. “To not have to spend my life looking over my shoulder, guessing who might be here to either kill or take me as ransom.”

Her grip tightened on her companion doll, as she furrowed her brow in a fleeting attempt to not let loose her anger. “I just want to be left alone.”

He understood the appeal. Solitude often appeared preferable to the challenging headaches of other people… Then again, he didn’t know what it must have felt like to grow up in a world like hers. Still…

"I get what you mean, but… Being alone’s not the answer." He should know.

"You’ll realize that," he paused, resting a hand against the crook of his hip as he gazed at the creatures on display. "Once you find your people." He thought of Bolt, of Matsuda… Little flickering lights in the dark sea that had almost swallowed his life all those months ago.

Elizabeth looked towards Milo with a look of confusion, not understanding what he had meant by his words of wisdom. “My… people?” she mused aloud, trying to draw a further meaning from the words. She moved to speak again, looking straight into Milo’s eyes, but before a word could escape her lips a distant commotion broke out a fireball roared into the air. An explosion had rocked some other part of the zoo, drawing eyes and ears from everyone towards the epicenter.

Milo’s own attention was quickly drawn towards the explosion out of concern, as his job detail entailed protection. But as he quickly turned towards Elizabeth again he saw a hand wrapped around her throat, pulling her into a quickly closing black void. A figure inside, a man wearing shades and a nice suit, gave Milo a smirk: “Bad luck, kid.” he spoke, like smooth rocks dancing across water.

Wordlessly, Elizabeth’s terrified eyes looked at Milo as she wordlessly begged for help before disappearing from view entirely.

"No!" Milo’s hand shot forth, fingers grasping at the nothingness that had filled the space where Elizabeth had just stood.



 
Dante Aguilar
CS Link
SCENE:
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again
TIME:
May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Central District
INTERACTIONS:
Nao ( tityanya tityanya )
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again

His eyes rolled at Tak’s retort, then they moved somewhere else, up to the swirl of colors. The crowd was engulfed in the heat, the music became a pounding pulse at the hem of his throat— the air had an anticipation to it. Teeming, bundling, gathering; way too many people for the one and only dance floor.

Strange was one way to put it. But that was about as much thought as he’d give it. Again, maybe they just couldn’t have cared less for the club’s capacity.

Slight hints of emotion were far and few on his face as they talked, his expression as steady and subtle as a dying heartbeat— fading into something else every now and then. A quirked brow; a turned lip; a twitch in the eye; still not much to work with.

Once the mention of ovulating and him having a fertilizer brain had finally passed his mind, along with the disgusted look it’d kicked off on his face, Dante wore a light smile for Nao on the quick glance they’d share. Enigmatic. Plain. Near hinting at a hidden depth beneath those pools of bright gold peering at her— still, not much to go off of.

He turned to Tak then, sighing — “Yeah, you’re not woo-ing shit— sorry to break it to you.” — His words cut sharp through Nao’s laughter, unapologetically — “I’m just looking out for you, y’know? Making sure you don’t embarrass yourself out there.”— He brought a hand over his face, an over-the-top scowl formed, drama queen fashion.

“The world doesn’t appreciate a good friend like me nowadays…It’s a tragedy, really.”— There was true pain and suffering in his voice, uncannily so. He was damn good at working his vocals.

He peeked from under the openings between his fingers, Tak was already on his way over to the dance floor. Dante scoffed, brought his one good hand back to his pockets and straightened up.

“But go see if Jason Benson’s at the bar, or whatever… Blow him off if y’find him— since you’re such a fan.”— He jeered. Fanned him on one dismissive hand, shooed him away. Making sure to usher in those last few sentences loud enough for them to jab him right on the back of the head as he walked.

Tak’s shape merged with the crowd, pushing through— Dante found himself alone with Nao, the whole club ceased to exist for a moment — “Hm…?” — He looked at her with a tight expression for a beat, a face taut with little to no emotion. He held that look up until something flared in his eye, a half-seen glint of tire weighing down on the eyelids, and he loosened up.

Was there really any point in being cautious with her by now?

“Oh, I love playing dress up— let's go.” — He beamed at her, punching in a yawn and a quick stretch with his hand at the back of his head. Dante didn’t seem to be putting much brainpower into their interaction anymore — “What size’s your brother then? I’m like…M, I think.”

He grumbled, baring down and tugging at the loose fabric of the sweater, feeling out the aching pile of muscle beneath. Estranged, but oddly familiar all the same — “Maybe a size larger actually…” — He had bulked up quite a bit ever since joining the Tigers.

“Ah, and before you ask. I’m telling everyone it was a bar fight, just to look cool and all…” — His hand moved down to drum a quick beat on the cast, black nails tapping rhythmically, he hung on his own words — “But it was a car accident.” — Then he spat it out. Sighing, like it were a disappointing tell.

“Still, you should tell everyone that this other imaginary dude ended up way worse than me.” — Dante gave her the cough cough wink wink; the classic. He was certain she’d back him up on this made-up story of his.

Maybe telling her that he’d had an accident at work would’ve been a better half-lie. More authenticity that way…




Nina Aguilar
SCENE:
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again
TIME:
May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Central District
INTERACTIONS:
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again

“Horrifier 3. I’m tellin’ ya, cinema.” — Nina was tellin’ her, the sleeves of her jacket pulling to show skin with the grand gestures she’d adorned those words with.

The air around them was electric— it had an anticipation to it— it’d pulsate and thrum on the ear along with the boom of the music, the neon light rushed and drained on the entrance, fading up the stairs. The sea of bodies bumping with the overbearing beat was asphyxiating; hell, it’d been asphyxiating just to watch them from the entrance, before they’d crossed that threshold.

But now… — Horrifier 3? You’re joking. That’s your pick for the year?” — Now they were in deep, she could feel the bass reverberating on her chest, picking at her ribs. A complete and utter cocoon of sound, it was hard shift from the outside world, made you feel like you’d slam headfirst into the edge of something you weren’t supposed to. But Nina didn’t seem to mind it. Nina never really seemed to mind much of anything, rather.

She was too righteous for a life billed on neon, glitter and strobing lights nowadays. Go figure.

“Mmyeah? Name one movie that came out this year that’s anythin’ like it. It’s just that unique.” — She drew a deep breath, then a noise rumbled low at her throat, rasped its way out of her mouth. In annoyance. In frustration. She didn’t know anymore.

She’d always hated how lively Nina was about…everything. There was always a pep in the step with this girl. Even now, she was taking long steps away from her, facing her as she did. Jaw tightening and going half-square on the bubblegum she was chewing on, head tilting on a shoulder like a confused cub.

Even in the way she spoke, they were a clear contrast. The valley girl showed on her chirpy tone; and in her case, she just sounded dead inside.

She was bright, blindingly so. It made her feel like she had a snake tugging to band at her throat. Just thinking how her naïve, happy-go-lucky character could backfire on her— it made her feel sick — "They could film shit on a platter, hundred different angles and all, and it’d be unique. Still, it’s just shit.” — A sigh escaped her, hung cold on the air, she shook her head and her arms folded.

“’Sides, that thing was just a gorefest passing as a horror movie. Characters were dumb as hell too…” — She mouthed the last, earning a pout from Nina as she went to tug at her hair with a click of the tongue. She spun on her heel, shoving her hands into her pockets.

She was such a child...

Her energy would’ve been infectious, intoxicating at times, it’d spread like a wildfire; but now it’d just made her scrunch up her face and stare at her like she was trash. Still, Nina didn’t flinch one bit — “Y’just don’t appreciate a good slasher.”

They’d gotten too close now. The beat was starting to sound like a pair of boulders clashing against each other, churning and gnawing at her eardrums. She grumbled and trotted up to her, tugging at one of her twintails once she’d matched her step — “Whatever…”

A smile played on Nina’s lips for a while, one fateful step out of the entrance, a moment before the sudden burst of strobing light would inevitably assault their retinas. The sudden shift almost showed on Nina, barely a twitch in the eye; Dani was about to keel over by then.

The girl felt cold fingers snake their way up her spine. Turning to frigid spikes, raking on bone, tracing bumps as they passed; a handful of jumps made her keel forward.

The goosebumps ended at the collar of her shirt. That same snake tightened on her neck like a python. Rounds and rounds over, tugging. The music felt like it would start eating at the stale air, soon enough she’d be fighting for air amidst the crowd; everything felt wrong.

Nina seemed to be having the time of her life, her head already bumping to the music — “Hey!” — Dani had to shout over it to get her attention.

She spared Nina a glance, her head drooped down and she wound a hand through her hair. The motion was restless, annoyed — “I’m sticking my neck out for you by doing all of this. I’m already in deep shit at the office, not looking to lose my job over this…” — This time Dani bit down a hiss, eyebrows knitting together for a quick second once that moment indecision kicked in. Her nostrils flared; she folded her arms. The front door of the nightclub was looking mighty appetizing.

“Just… Just go do whatever it is you wanted to do. I’m getting my info and leaving; I was never here.” — Dani grumbled; she sent a look of absolute, pathetic defeat over to the dance floor. That was the main excuse for her bringing Nina all the way out here. She’d heard ghost stories about this new miracle going around in the underground scene, she needed to see it with her own eyes.

Was it just another bitter snake with a grudge, or was it something else?

“Ah, it’ll be fine~ Don’t worry bout it, ‘kay? I’ll just do my thing and I’m out too. Never here. Promise. I’m a ghost.” — Dani went stiff as Nina began to pad her on the back, giving her a not-so-reassuring thumbs up. The intent behind the gesture wasn’t lost on her, surely.

“You’re talking to a figment of your imagination, actually.”

“You’re over-doing it…” — The blue-hair slouched, sighing.

“I’m your subconsciou—”

“Stop…” — She pleaded — “I’ll go look around. Don’t have too much fun, please.” — She begged.

“Gotcha, gotcha— I’ll see what I can fish out for ya’ too.”

With that said, both women parted ways. Begrudgingly as they did.

Nina stood there looking on as the multi-colored mess of light waved before her eyes, her heart hit a ricochet inside her chest, feeling the bump of the music; the heat building up in her left eye, beneath the eyepatch— she set her sights on the bar. You always start at the bar in places like these, right?

Not that she was an expert.

She took measured steps toward it, making sure to weave away from stray shoulders and people on their way to the dancefloor. Graceful movements, lightning without the thunder; and she jumped right onto the bar stool once she’d reached it.

Some of the sloppier stitch-work on her back pulled and damn near came undone with the motion. Some fabric was made thin, wet and clingy on her skin from the tinge of blood at some of the cuts— the one’s she’d been trying to hide under her jacket. Mere slits, but they showed.

Still, Nina felt the heat rising in her eyesocket with a shaky smile. The pain only lasted for a while, something flashed underneath the eyepatch— the merest flicker, a spark. She took a quick huff and turned to the figure behind the bar, hands propped on the counter — “Hey, can I get umm…”

Her eyes wandered around, gliding across the disco— looking, maybe for something that wasn’t there. She’d just now realized that this was her first time ever ordering hard drinks at a place like this.

“Uhh…” — She drawled, her smile wavering — “Whatever this guy gets! Yeah.” — Nina leaned forward in her seat, pointing at some rando that had stepped up from the crowd looking like he was headed for the bar. From afar, he had a wild look to him. Black-white tracksuit lined with so many wrinkles and creases it’d looked like the wisest tracksuit to have ever existed. His hair was bushy and all over the place, unkempt like the light stubble on his chin. Stern, indifferent, uninterested eyes

Long story short, in a place like this, this guy in particular looked like he knew what he was doing.





  • AZURE DRAGONS
    R E A V E R ✖
    Nina
    LEGAL NAME
    Nina Aurora D'Angelo Aguilar
    AGE & BIRTH
    20 (January 15th, 2001)
    ALIAS
    Reaver
    GENDER
    F
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'6'' (167 cm) | 127 lbs (57kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Azure Dragons Wannabe
    ACTIVE SINCE
    shrug
    REPUTATION
    crouching taiga; hidden doragon
    Home District
    North District | East District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Dante's sister. Dani's headache.
  • POLICE
    F A I T H †
    Dani
    LEGAL NAME
    Daniela Alessandra Nazario
    AGE & BIRTH
    24 (June 11th, 1997)
    ALIAS
    Faith
    GENDER
    F
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'10'' (177 cm) | 149 lbs (67kg)
    GANG & RANK
    NOPD Detective
    ACTIVE SINCE
    xxxx, 2019
    REPUTATION
    caffeine addict; unorthodox investigator
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Dante's old friend. Nina's 'manager.'
-->
 
SCENE:
Whispers at Dusk
LOCATION:
Taiyōkō Shrine, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Mirza, Hifumi
WHISPERS AT DUSK
“To the gate, please.” Mirza murmured to a few of the Dragon’s, who nodded dutifully. Tailed by a couple others, Mirza walked a half-step behind Hifumi as he was led inside, hands held behind his back.


“Yes, yes.” Of course Mirza knew enough, listening carefully to his briefing before arrival. He wasn’t so acquainted with the prominent families of the East, being relatively new in comparison, but understood the importance of this.
“Unheard of in the district as a whole. I’m still shocked.”

His hands dropped when they entered, seeing the damage in front of him. He reached up to the charred wood, brushing it with a gentle finger. Stepping carefully over the rubble strewn across the floor, his frown grew.

“I see.”

Though it wasn’t Mirza’s intention to sound unsympathetic, he lacked concern in his voice as he looked between the two groups. Calmly, he turned to his fellow Dragons.

“Stay here, please, with them.”

Of course they followed his instruction immediately, just as the others had near the gate, and Mirza hurried to follow Hifumi to the end of the corridor. He didn’t have to ask to know that this wasn’t an ordinary feature of the temple, though he looked at Hifumi with furrowed brows. The most concerned he’d looked so far.

“If I may…”

Mirza reached toward the mask, holding it up, turning it around in his hand.

“I don’t suppose you have any information on this?”

 
Last edited:
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again
LOCATION:
Central District
DATE:
May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Takakazu, Dante ( Haze- Haze- ), Nao ( tityanya tityanya )
INTERACTIONS:
Nina ( Haze- Haze- )
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again

Tak's senses were overwhelmed by the disorienting pulses and throbs of bass, along with the chaotic movement of bodies and the loud chatter. His normally sharp instincts became foggy and dulled by the surrounding chaos.

Not enough to make him be unaware that Dante was talking smack as he walked away, even though he couldn’t hear a single thing he said, he knew that there wasn’t any way Dante would let him walk away without saying something behind his back.

“I’m starting to hope she is an organ harvester after all,” Tak empty-mindedly scratched his chest as he wished for terrible fate to befall Dante, the thought of Nao being out to sell some organs on the black market had been on his mind ever since he had brought it up.

This wasn’t to say that he actually thought that it was possible that she was an organ harvester…

But if she WAS, it would make a lot of sense. That would explain why she was so able to put up with his bullshit, she was just waiting for a chance to take his liver and kidneys. For him, that was much more believable than her actually enjoying his company.

“I’d feel bad for wastin’ her time, it’s not as if anyone else can use my organs,'' Tak paused for a moment, deep in thought. It had been quite some time since he last took into account the impact of his abilities on his own body. In fact, it had been such a long time that he couldn't even remember the last time he had been injured enough to be concerned about it.

He guessed that was a good thing.

The carefree hopscotching of his mental state kept him distracted long enough to make him forget about the club atmosphere, twisting through the gaps between bodies and ignoring the physically assaulting beat drops. The next thing he knew he was standing in front of the bar, sliding himself onto one of the bar stools with a slight swivel. He didn’t even notice the strange woman who he had happened to plop himself down beside, even if she had noticed him. She stuck out like a peacock in a penguin exhibit, which said much about Tak’s spatial awareness.

With a quick glance at the laminated menu in front of him, the mangy Tiger's gaze wandered through the options, ranging from the luxurious "Sugar Gloom" cocktail to the more down-to-earth "White Oak Light Ale". It only took a few seconds for Tak to decide, leaning forward on the counter with his order already on his lips.

The bartender gave him an expectant gaze, only currently occupied with shaking a drink in his one hand, having more than enough experience to multitask and start on whatever drink the man ordered, and by conjunction what the lady next to him wanted.


Tak met his gaze for an awkwardly silent moment, before his mouth finally opened to share his order.“... Give me some beer water. Make it 75% tap water, 25% of your cheapest beer.”

He spoke brazenly and without shame, to the point it made the bartender stop the motion of his hand to give him a deadpan stare, blinking at him.

“...We sell drinks here, sir.” He responded dryly.

“Have you seen these prices, damnit!?”
Tak quickly dispelled any notion of being a stoic and uncaring seasoned veteran with his fervent declaration, "I'm broke over here! My budget is tight as hell this month, I ain’t got the money to dump on your overpriced drinks!”

The wrinkles on his clothes just came from a guy who couldn’t afford an iron.

The bartender only shook his head with a sigh in response to Tak’s outburst, glancing over to the woman who had claimed to ‘want the same’ earlier, “Have you changed your mind on your order?” He said in a joking tone as he poured the drink in his hand out of the shaker tin into a glass through a strainer, “Or are you both fans of watered-down beer?”

“Huh?”
The bartender's words caught Tak's attention, making him realize that there is more to the world than just his financial struggles. He turned his gaze over his shoulder, his pupilless eyes stopping to blankly flicker at the woman beside him.

“What a weirdo.” Upon laying eyes on her, his immediate thought was that everything about her exuded danger. From the eye patch to her attire, she was the kind of woman one should steer clear of. She seemed to invite trouble and was likely to drag others into it as well.

“What’s up with that eye patch?” Naturally, Tak directed his finger towards the ominous woman, highlighting the strangest part of her, just as a child would captivate their parents' gaze towards a peculiar, unkempt stranger across the street. Tak probably could do it so well because he had been on the other side of it so many times. “You poke your eye out with a straw or something? Slip with a pencil in your hand?”

From anyone else such a question would have been a joke, or a weird attempt at flirting.

But knowing Tak, he was dead serious.


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

“Yes.” Hector took another bite of toast, leaving a chunk of it on the plate. Though he didn’t feel particularly great mentally or physically, sparring was always something he enjoyed, as everyone knew. He trained often, both intentionally and unintentionally as he picked fights wherever he went. This time, he was eager to see what the group was made of.

“Be good to make a habit of these sparring days. Can’t have the gang going soft.”

Was he going soft?

Too slow to swoop in and pay for the group, Hector thanked Hitoshi begrudgingly, insistent that he’d cover the bill next time. With another cigarette on the walk, he made conversation with Kaede, observing the rest of the group from behind as Hitoshi led them to the dojo.

“Lot of work to do in building this area back up. Something to bring up to…”

To who, Queen?

Taking a step inside, Hector coughed immediately as dust was kicked up into the air. Taking the time to look around, he smiled approvingly.

“Great location. No-one’s going to disrupt us here.”

Patting Hitoshi firmly on the back, Hector walked ahead of him, eyeing the training equipment. He opted to use none of it, as metal crept through, coating his fists.

“Well, I’m ready when y’all are.”

He stared down the group, hungry for a fight.

 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Blurred Borders
LOCATION:
Hartswan Terrace, North District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1: October 25, 2019 -- Night
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Celestine
BLURRED BORDERS
Eyes shut, Darius sat helplessly as he listened to the shuffling of corpses around him. Though wracked with guilt for leaving her to the cleanup, he was overwhelmed. His stomach churned, and his body threatened to retch as the stench of blood and mold festered in the air. He continued to shake, hugging his hands against himself.

“Huh?”

Darius opened his eyes, flinching away from the woman now so close to him. His lip trembled as he parsed the question. How? Unless she could reverse time, far far back, and stop him from getting into such a doomed situation.

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do. I don’t know. I want to go home.”

Darius looked up towards the door. He was holding things up, wasn’t he? He was furious with himself as much as he was panicked.

“I need a minute. I’m sorry about all this.”

Darius looked at Celeste for a moment, before turning away from her sharply, suppressing the urge to vomit.

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
TIME:
Daytime, Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Kiki's Eatery, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hitoshi, Kaede, Ashley, Hector, Gideon
Get(ting) Help
Charlie continued to enjoy his meal, biting into his burger with generous mouthfuls, the dish standing no chance against his voracious appetite (also the fries, you can't forget the fries). Very shortly after he was already sucking his fingers clean. He didn't quite expect that roasted eggplant would fit so well in a hamburger! No doubt pretty high on the tierlist.

He patiently waited for the others to finish as he sipped on his juice, finally able to truly relax for a moment, now that the initial tension due to Hector's arrival had faded for the most part...Even if he still continued to look as grumpy as ever. He also kept an eye on Gideon, making sure to help him out if at any point he found himself with any kind of difficulties with his meal.

He didn't have to wait much longer, fortunately, as the others weren't really slow either, one would think that a big appetite was only fitting for a Scarlet Phoenix (ironic when you consider the fact that the current active leader was little more than skin and bones). A satisfied Hitoshi didn't want to waste another moment, already paying the waiter to head to the training area. Charlie wanted to help with the payment, but something told him that the new Hitoshi was going to be pretty damn stubborn about his decision. "And I'll pay for the icecream afterwards!" Said Charlie as a follow up to Hector's remark.

Now with the group walking together through the streets of South, it could not be denied that they kind of stuck out like a sore thumb, especially considering that Hector's title as the Queen was pretty well known by this point. Civilians might probably think that the group of Phoenixes were making their way to cause some trouble, once again, it was easy to forget what exactly was the role that connected all of them, especially on such a casual day. Charlie maintained a cheerful conversation with the others, although especially with Gideon and Ash, who he found the easiest to connect with, probably because of their similar ages. In fac, the rookie didn't even notice until much later that the area they were walking on was one he had never seen before. Kinda made him think of just how busy he had been these days, just when was the last time he just took some days off to explore? It certainly was one of his favorite pasttimes before.

Inside the old building, Charlie was impressed that Hitoshi had such a place of his own. "Wow! Aniki you should've told me sooner you had a place like this! This is so convenient!" He said as he removed his jacket and shoes, soon after giving little hops around the matted floor, his steps being quite loud and causing a good amount of pressure on the soft material due to the boy's unexpected heavy weight.


"Hey, Ash" Charlie went over to the weaponry area, after giving the weapons a good look, he gravitated towards the quarterstaff hanging on a rack, with a gentle tap from below, he sent the wooden weapon flying up in the area, making a single turn in the air as it reached its apex, once it fell, the boy catched it with the same hand. "It's been a while since we last fought, so don't chicken out on me now, okay?" He said, the mild and friendly tone in his voice giving away the joking nature of his uncharacteristically conflictive words.



joshuadim joshuadim @Sei Shonagon Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
MdLJ4uG.jpg

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝒜𝓈: 𝒩𝒶𝑜
Scene: If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again
Time: May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3

I am here: Central District Club
With: Tak and Dante

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



Naomi had always been impressed by how everything seemed to roll off of Tak's back like he didn't even notice. Her comment about fertilizer brain didn't reach him, but it did garner her a smile from Dante. A slight smile, hiding hidden depths in his golden eyes. If she wasn't careful, she was going to find herself obsessed with diving into them!

As she laughed at Tak's comment about picking up girls at the bar, Dante roasted the man, causing her to laugh even more. She managed to get out her bit about women liking a well-dressed man, but Tak was already walking away, ignoring them. “The world doesn’t appreciate a good friend like me nowadays…It’s a tragedy, really.” Dante lamented, causing Naomi to giggle. Ah, she really needed to stop. She was starting to get light-headed. The heat of the packed dance floor and strobing lights were not helping. Dante made one last comment about blowing off Jason Benson, which caused Nao to snicker. "Maybe he can share some race-car pajamas with you, too!" she called after the retreating form of Tak. Of course, the man made no sign that he ever heard their words. What a life to live.

The duo stood in silence for a moment, as it crept in that Tak had left them alone together. Naomi tilted her head towards him at his little hmm, his expression tight. Oh no, was he mad at being left alone with her? They hadn't done a very good job of convincing Tak to come with them to get a change of clothes, had they? Mostly they just...insulted him. Whoopsie. But as Naomi watched, she saw the wall come crashing down. A hint of tiredness came to Dante's eye, and then he stopped entirely with the mask.

“Oh, I love playing dress up— let's go.” he beamed. Naomi beamed back, realizing that she had already failed in her mission to be careful with him. What was the point of being careful anyways, when you could just have fun? All she really needed to do was not mention anything about serpent business, and she would be fine. Nothing bad would happen. Dante asked what size her brother was, saying that he was a size M...or larger. Naomi sized him up once again, her gaze going slow over his body. His sweater was baggy, but she was pretty good at imagining the shapes and contours of a person underneath their clothes. Her potential relied on it in order to copy people perfectly. Dante was a couple of inches shorter than Noam, but around the same weight.

Her eyes caught for a moment on his hand, tugging at the sweater, gliding over the hidden skin underneath. Focus! she mentally slapped herself. "Most of our clothes don't come in the typical small, medium, large sizing. But please trust me when I say that his clothes should fit you just fine!" she answered, her face flushed. Jesus, it was ungodly hot in here. Her eyes swept out once again to the crowded dancefloor. What exactly was the capacity, again? It was just one big, throbbing mass of people. Naomi wished, not for the last time, that she wasn't sober.

Naomi began to make her way to the exit, when Dante spoke up again. His hand drummed on his cast, his black-painted fingernails in time to the music. He told her that he was telling everyone it was a bar fight...the end of the sentence hung in the air, and Naomi leaned in closer to hear the end of it, intrigued by the anticipation. A car accident, he managed to spit out with a sigh. He then asked her to participate in his lie, saying that the other guy looked way worse. "Of course," she agreed. "He couldn't even walk after you were done with him," she said in a throaty voice, with a wink.

"Now let's get out of here. Some fresh air would be nice," she said, linking her arm through his good one to lead him through the crowd. At the door, she beamed at the security guard. "I have to go get something from my car, and he's escorting me. You'll let us back in, won't you?" Naomi asked, laying on the puppy-dog eyes and baby voice thick. The guard glanced down at her chest, which she was subtly squishing together, and then at Dante. "Uh, yeah. But be quick, we're almost at capacity," he said after a moment. "Thank youuuuu!" she said, blowing him a kiss as she led Dante to the outside.

The air wasn't as fresh as she'd hoped. They were still in the industrial part of the Central District, after all. All the car exhaust would take centuries to clear out. But at the very least it was cooler, and there was a nice, gentle breeze. The change from the onslaught of light and sound from inside the club to the moonlit night was jarring. But it was nice, just for that moment. "I parked really close. You'll know my baby when you see her, she's gorgeous," Naomi couldn't help but brag about her car. Most of her money went towards it, after all. She let go of Dante, and began striding towards the street.

The car was parked remarkably close--one might even argue illegally parked remarkably close. But there were dozens of other cars lining the streets, parked just as dubiously legally. Naomi was nearly bouncing with excitement as they got closer, and the last few steps she bounced to turn around and present the car to Dante, her arms splayed. "Here she is, my pride and joy!" she said, beaming at the teal supra. If he knew cars, he would undoubtedly be excited about the supercar in front of him. If he didn't, hopefully he would be impressed by how beautiful it was.

After the introduction of the car, Naomi reached into her clutch purse and pulled out the key, popping the trunk. After a moment, her expression was panicked for half a second. She didn't leave anything serpent related in her trunk, had she? She smoothed out her reaction, pulling the trunk all the way open. Phew, it was just drugs. She affected an embarrassed face, carefully tossing the small bag of white powder and much larger bag of herb deeper into the trunk, away from the clothes. She didn't feel the need to mention anything about it--Tak had already told Dante that she was a drug addict. It wasn't that surprising that she would have drugs in her trunk.

For a second she stared forlornly at the cocaine. The high didn't last that long, she totally could--focus! she mentally slapped herself again. She wasn't sure how much longer her willpower would hold out. She tried to focus instead on the mission--get Dante some new clothes. Three bags lined the floor of the trunk--one deep blue, one red, and one black and white. For Noam, Nao, and Omi respectively. "We share the car since it's so expensive," she answered an anticipated question. She wished it was the truth. How many more things could she buy if she had two more people helping her out with the car? "So we all keep clothes in the trunk, in case we need to change. Partying can be...messy," Naomi didn't feel the need to elaborate on that statement. He saw the inside of that club. Even stone cold sober a person could become a mess. Her answer was also partially the truth--most often she did use the clothes as an extra change when she got messy. But it was also convenient when she needed to switch from one persona to the next in a flash.

She pulled out the blue bag and unzipped it, pulling out various clothes. A blue button up and slacks, something nice but still casual. A daring black bodysuit that was cutout at the waist. That one was placed to the side, as though it wasn't a legitimate offering but she wanted Dante to see it. Just in case. She pulled out a couple more shirts and different colored slacks, just to give him a few more options than what she was envisioning. "Feel free to pick whatever you want! And if you need any help with anything, let me know. I'm pretty good at getting people dressed and undressed," she winked at him, gesturing at his arm. It had to be difficult getting dressed and undressed when one was injured that way.


((ooc: I got so distracted looking for clothes. So many options, I had to stop. Feel free to either pick one of the ones I linked or come up with your own!))
((Outfit: Red Dress with red high heels))
((Die in the Disco))


Haze- Haze- thebigfella thebigfella
 
Last edited:
PEYTON XIONG
SCENE:
Confidental Motivations
LOCATION:
Taka's Apartment, North District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || July 1st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Takahiro

CONFIDENTAL MOTIVATIONS
Afterwards, Peyton snuggled up into the couch, serotonin and euphoria running through his veins. The mixture of alcohol and cocaine had reached its peak in Peyton's blood. As he waited for Taka to redose, Peyton absentmindedly licked his lips, savoring the taste of a bygone act.

When Taka returned, Peyton returned to the comfortable position pressed up against the man. However, with the newfound confidence given by the drugs and Peyton's general shameless countenance, Peyton also laid his head on Taka's chest. He enjoyed the way that Taka's breath caused his chest to rise and fall, and how his words made it rumble.

"Yay, I'm glad you like me!" Peyton squirmed in delight after hearing Taka's words, "That was my first time being in any sort of dominating position, so I hope I did okay!"

Peyton giggled to himself. Like Taka, he hadn't expected to get frisky today, and certainly not with Taka. Not that he was complaining or regretting it in the slightest. If Taka was okay with it, then Peyton was also okay with it. He just doubted that he would want to go through the same thing again, especially since his ability to be dominating was... lacking, to say the least.

With the conversation now turning towards Raph and getting more serious, Peyton slipped off of Taka's torso and sat up on the couch. Almost immediately, he missed the warmth that Taka's body exuded, even despite it being the middle of summer. His nose also scrunched up almost imperceptively over the smell of cigarettes. Peyton wasn't much of a fan of the noxious smelling scent. He put up with it though, as many of his friends also smoked.

"It sounds like we're just going to have to be rivals," Peyton said with a fang-filled grin, "That's okay! I'm friends with a lot of Raph's competition! Besides, being friends with you means I get to keep an eye on you too. So sure, I can be your non-mean friend!"

There wasn't any way that Peyton would want to spend less time with Taka. If his relationship with August was something to go off of, Peyton tended to get closer with the people he saw as rivals. Something about doing that helped to keep Peyton's jealousy at bay. Whether that had anything to do with Peyton's predilection for degradation was yet to be seen.

Peyton leaned towards Taka, all traces of earlier hostility all gone. Intimidation didn't seem to work, after all, and so Peyton's next steps were to get closer to Taka. He let the burning question on his tongue loose and asked, "So why do you like the mean ones? I haven't met someone who was as much of a glutton for punishment as I am! I'm kinda curious!"

Slav Slav
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Cleaning Duty
TIME:
Nighttime, February 19th 2022, Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Inigo, Eric
CLEANING DUTY
Even the light-man himself was caught a little off-guard by the sudden exponential increase in luminescence by the combination of their attacks. Once the battlefield cleared up, Eric came out of his cover, patting down the dust and tiny bits of debris and crystal on his suit and pants.

"*whistle* You say that but that was plenty fancy to me, you get a gold star" As he spoke, he raised his hand up lazily, his index finger being the only one extended, from his fingertip surged a small ball of yellow light, as it floated in the air, it took the shape of a five-pointed star, slowly traveling and rotating until it got close to Inigo, where it just bursted into light particles that quickly died out.

"Yup, we got aaall the fun to ourselves, I bet they'll be green with envy after they show up" Next to him, one of the criminals was crawling his way on the floor, thrusting his arm forward, he grabbed a hold of Eric's looser lower half of his pants. The Detective responded with a very annoyed look (which, to normal people actually seemed like his regular deadpan face) "Hey, buddy, I'm having a chat with my partner here, that's a bit rude-"

"CDPD, GET YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" A group of six-or so officers busted through the main entrance, firearms up and ready to shoot.

"And here comes the heroes" Let out Eric, pull his leg aside, yanking it free from the wounded criminal's grasp. "Okay guys, I trust you can handle the rest" He broke into a confident, strut, swinging his arms back and forth in an exaggerated manner.

"You...sure, Detective? We may need your testimonies an-"

"Sergeant Han and I have it all under control, we'll go back to HQ immediately and write reports for the Captain"
Without bothering to look behind him, Eric waved goodbye unenthusiastically at the officers, slowly making his way towards the entrance. Once the main door closed behind Eric and Inigo, the former stopped waving, and turning his head to face the latter. "So, about that fried spam, I don't think we're getting any service here for the night, but I know a good place closeby" Like a tired office worker by the end of their nine-to-five, the detective rested his back on the side of their vehicle.

"You coming?" A sly grin was plastered all over his face.



simj26 simj26
 
Brandy Baker
SCENE:
Captives of The System
TIME:
~2004, Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Brandy Baker & Caio Santana Coelho
Captives of The System
What did she want?

Brandy's brow wrinkled. Was she even allowed to do that? Even if she were, where would she even start? There wasn't much that she longed for, and even the few things that she did, even she wasn't naive enough to think she could get them with a simple wad of cash.

Her thoughts swayed from one thing to the next, momentarily brushing against one fleeting dream after another. For a girl her age, she'd used up and discarded far too many of them. What she wanted wasn't much. To have a nice meal. For her parents to be a bit nicer to each other. To not roll over onto the bed springs that night. Or, maybe, that TV. Surely there was a way for them to get one without having to pay the bill, right?

"...Do you think it's enough to go to school?" She pondered, honestly. "I asked Mom and Dad, and they said it was dumb... But I think it looks like fun! There's some kids I see every now and again on their way home, and they're always talking soooo much. They all wear matching clothes, too! I think it's cool."

If there was anything that she envied, it was probably them. Those kids that got to just go away for half the day, hang out with their friends, learn, and... Whatever else it was that you did at school.

"What do you think?" She bet he knew all sorts of cool stuff that people did with money. "You seem really cool! A-are you a teenager, maybe?" That would explain why he knew so much. Secretly, she hoped that he wasn't. She really would be a little munchkin, then. "A-about what to get, I mean! I don't really know where to start."

Caio's reflection glimmered in Brandy's eyes, and then the unthinkable occurred. A low, hungry growl seeped out from her stomach, and the deep ruby red of her eyes spread out into her cheeks.

"S-sorry!" She covered her stomach in shame. "I didn't mean to interrupt! Um. Sorry."

What a disaster.

 
Vissarion Argyris
SCENE:
Equestrian Diplomacy
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 17th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri( The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit ) , Vissa
Equestrian Diplomacy
Despite Vissarion having an important meeting today, he also had other things on the docket. Even though it was already tidy, he wanted to make sure his estate was as presentable as possible. That also applied to some of the residents on his property. While he usually paid a well-trusted individual to do it, he was doing it himself today. Vissa moved his brush along the horse's coat, getting rid of any imperfections that may be apparent. Alexander was surprisingly calm today. Usually he would have to feed him a carrot or two to calm him down enough to thoroughly brush him. "If you keep up the good behavior I may have to give you an apple." He pet the horse softly on it's mane, continuing to brush it with his other hand.

Alexander wasn't his only horse. Vissa had six horses and he planned on expanding that number. Half of his horses were race horses, the other horses being retired from racing. Race horses often met cruel fates after their racing days were over. He tried his best to prevent that by giving them a fruitful life. As the owner of a horse race track, it was his duty to care for the animals that could no longer race. After he finished brushing Alexander, he retrieved an apple from his pocket. "Don't take my hand off this time." He fed the black horse without issue, not having to deal with getting his fingers smashed against his teeth.

Vissa was at peace... that was until he heard footsteps approaching. He could tell from the sound that it was one of his butlers. He took off his gloves, putting them in his back pocket as he turned to address his new arrival. "Sir Vissarion, your guest has arrived." He didn't like the formality his butlers presented, but it was better than being called master. "I'll be out of here shortly." His butler gave him a bow, the footsteps retreating out of the stables. He didn't expect her to arrive this early but he liked it that way. Punctuality was a good sign of respect.

He emerged from the stables, fixing his hair and appearance since he dirtied himself up a bit too much in the stables. For one rare moment in his life, he found himself feeling nervous. He wasn't nervous about the prospect of talking alone with her. His nervousness stemmed from the potential implications that a meeting like this had. He wanted to make a friend, an ally. The bar to become one was quite high. He didn't openly give his trust to who ever sought it out. His trust was always earned, making it hard for him to make connections, being a roadblock on his quest for power. The walk over to his circular driveway was a short one, but one that he used to prepare himself, putting a smile on his face. He saw the vehicle that she arrived in, noting the model. He wasn't surprised she got drove around. Even though he had more than enough money for it, he preferred to drive himself. He stopped a few paces from the car, waiting for his guest to get out. Vissa was betting that everything would work out, his future depended on it.
 
Lily Lavinia
SCENE:
Tigers B-side: Takes One To Know One
LOCATION:
East District, 24-Seven
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Lily
Takes One To Know One

What is the price of a good deed? What add up to the cost, what constitute the immeasurable value of a kind act? Could it be the intent or rather the outcome? Lily did not know and had never wondered about such things. Not even then. She believed so little of something like fortune for the likes of her, that when it smiled she could but think it a thing dubious. And yet somehow, it seemed her first transaction in the new trade would prove a success.

It is something indeed, to get something right on one’s first try, or to get it right at all. When was the last time an endeavor of hers had been fruitful, a lackluster effort rewarded? Chalk it up to good karma then, though she believed not even in that thing. In the end, she had done something right, it seemed, intentionally or not. And her client had at last given in to her accidentally skillful persuasion, and had agreed to a swift purchase of her merchandise.

Her back straightened, a seeming alien act to her. And with the same old vague smile under slightly unfocused eyes as it bloomed somewhat more visibly, she let go of the girl's hand.

“Sure, you go, I follow...” she stammered, not quite sure what it was she said. But what does it matter? This is a success!

That girl was raising a brow. What that was, she could not be sure either. Eagerness? Anticipation? This stuff might not be as good as you’re thinking, girl, no matter how good I was at selling it.

But then again, it might not even be about the types of drugs, it might needn’t be drugs at all! And perhaps what someone needs, really needs, to fix their shitty life is just anything at all to hang on to, a random substance, a fountain of alcohol, a jar of sweets, a purring cat... Something at all to be ballast for a piece of shit of a life, lest it float away towards the unalloyed sky of infinite expanse and endlessness, positively lost to the dark filthy ground we all dwell in the here and now. And so, mayhap, that Lily’s coming here was in the end an accidental act of kindness, timely providing just what this individual of hollow eyes was desperately in need of: a thing to hang onto.

So you are right to be thankful, girl, and let this be over it and your angel be on her way. So thought, Lily secured but lightly the plastic bag between her index and middle finger, dangling it still on her side as she went, as though it was a badge of honor, a rare possession for her to be proud of as she never had been, and not an illegal, third-rate product that may or may not worth less than a hot meal in a 24/7 store’s oppressive atmosphere.

miki miki

 
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


“Ew,” said Lily, effortlessly condensing her immense disgust for the new arrival in one meaningless sound. The thing in human guise, and not a very good guise at that, had slid from the elevator’s ceiling and had announced her entrance so dramatically, that even Lily’s fit of petty revenge had been shattered to pieces. Credit to the number that blazed still Lily’s way even when themselves had been reduced to nakedness. But she could not give them much heed anymore, now that a creature of a video game boss’ stature had entered the fray. At any rate, Lily had never been one to care for such climatic gameplays. Hers are the types where she swipes idly her fingers at unvaried intervals on a phone screen until her eyes glaze over or the device shuts down. So “Hell no!” she said, and ducked under the upturned table. Let that thing deal with whoever willing to deal with it. While she, why, she would be on her way. Which way? Whichever way farthest from that unnerving thing. So she crawled, unseemingly, her head down low, towards the obscuring smoke.


 
Vissarion Argyris
SCENE:
ABCs of Sportsball
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 5th 2022
LOCATION:
Argentium Stadium, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy( BriiAngelic BriiAngelic ), Vissa
ABCs of Sportsball
Vissa raised an eyebrow as he watched Missy take a sip from his beer, displaying a reaction that wasn't all that surprising to him. He was particular in what he drank, in fact, he wouldn't have been as bold as Missy to try something new. His taste in beer differed from many of those in the social circles he usually was in. Higher class people tended to stay away from beer but his poor upbringing made him different. Despite him having a lot of money, he still had the same tastes and habits as before. While he enjoyed fine dining, he enjoyed a cold beer much more. "Back when I didn't have a lot of money, the only thing I could afford was a game ticket and a beer. I can't remember the last time I was able to go to a game like this. Usually my clients and investors prefer the club boxes." He said, taking a sip from his beer.

He raised his eyebrow once again when she mentioned a mixed drink. He was already drinking beer, mixing the two probably wasn't a good idea... but today wasn't his usual routine. "I suppose I have two hands... one more drink can't hurt." Vissa wasn't on board with the idea, but he wasn't going to say no. The last thing he wanted to be was a mood killer. He gave her a bright smile, hiding his aversion to the idea. He took another gulp from his beer, this one larger than the ones before. He wiped the foam away from his lips, he didn't want to appear messy. "I've heard of the drink but don't know what's inside it. Mixed drinks aren't my forte." He said, beginning the trek over to where the vendor sold the beverage.

Once they arrived, Vissa narrowed his eyes at the prices. "These prices are outrageous." He said aloud, voicing his thoughts. He was rich but he still didn't like getting ripped off. He knew a terrible price when he saw it and this vendor had a whole list of them. This mixed drink better contain ambrosia from the gods because it was simply ridiculous. Vissa straightened himself as he downed some more of his beverage. "I hope this taste better than beer." He didn't have a lot of optimism that it would.
 

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