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

[Kameron Esters-]

Musai

CS Link

SCENE:

TOWER OF POWER

LOCATION:

Maelstrom Tower, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Musai, Sable

TOWER OF POWER

Musai, partially impressed by the dramatic entrance and verbal jabs of his opponent, watched the martial artist leap towards him with a spinning kick. His smirk never left his face as he prepared to respond, his years of experience in the unforgiving streets of the Hiraeth City kicking in. Musai's stance, relaxed yet ready, hinted at his readiness to dodge or counter at a moment's notice.

As the fighter's foot came hurtling towards him, Musai sidestepped with a fluidity that belied his rugged appearance, letting the kick slice through the air where he stood moments before. The barrage of kicks that followed were met with a blend of evasion and parrying, Musai's movements sharp and deliberate.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, karate man!" Musai taunted, finding an opening in the fighter's flurry. He capitalized on it, stepping in close to deliver a series of calculated strikes aimed at exploiting the gaps in the martial artist's defense. Musai's approach was a mix of street brawling techniques and the kind of pragmatic fighting that prioritized effectiveness over form.

With a grin still plastered on his face, Musai aimed to wear down his opponent not just physically, but mentally, his constant banter and unrelenting aggression serving as a test to the fighter's resolve and skill. Musai's strategy was clear and he was eager to see if all those years of watching Kung-fu movies paid off.

Roda the Red

 

[Nobody Special]

BASH HIRABAYASHI

CS Link

SCENE:

Reparations

LOCATION:

Ruined Bridge, North/East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton, Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine

✕ POTENTIALS BANNED:

Rule of Iron [Shen Yue]

Reparations

He stood there, his hand remaining outstretched– an ulterior motive with a surprising lack of malicious intent behind it.

Bash had no intention to exchange blows with the King, or any of the others who stood behind him for that matter, unless it was necessary, as he had stated to his fellow Serpents earlier. But, after hearing about what he had done to that other bridge, he’d have to be a complete dipshit to not remove his Potential as early on as he possibly could.

Ruriko’s muttering brought the fury he’d been trying so desperately to hide out into his eyes. For a moment, he glared at the woman he’d believed to be his friend with a violent gaze, warning her to keep her mouth shut until he was finished talking to her boss. Not another goddamn word. I’ll fucking deal with you later, his scowl hissed, before briefly flickering over to the other pony-tailed woman who spoke not too far away from the three.

He didn’t care who the hell ‘remained nearby’, as long as they kept their mouths shut and let him and Shen handle their business without any more fucking quips. It had already been hard enough keeping his anger suppressed all this time, and this chain of events wasn’t making things any better for the young Queen. At least Kisara would have his back if he ended up losing it– he knew she would.

He let out an internal sigh of relief when he squeezed Shen’s hand, knowing that the Serpents now had an invisible upper hand if things did go South. He personally didn’t feel a shred of fear standing face to face with the man, but he knew about the damage he was capable of doing. At least those who would choose to run instead of fight had a decent chance of getting away now. Things like precautions had never been a strength of his, but being Queen meant getting good at things you used to suck at, right?

“... A few months back.” He finally spoke, looking the man ahead of him directly in his eyes. “Some ‘a ‘yer guys came ta our lab and fucked it up.” Bash’s gaze shifted to the ground beneath him, thinking back to how he felt when he’d first gotten the news of what he had lost.

“People died. People who were useful ta me. You know anythin’ about what happened? Did you call that shit on us?”

Spoiler: tags

Elenion Aura @Misuteeku @QuirkyAngel @angel doe Coyote Hart simj26 @Beann Jexon Whells @AriAriAbabwa @FabulousTrash @TheAphelion

 

[Haze-]

Je Jeong-Ho (NPC)

Scene:

Misery Hates Company

Location:

South District, WcDonalds!; Morning

Date:

November 30th, 2021 || Pre-Arc 3

Participants:

Misery (& Co.)

Misery Hates Company

You peak at your twenties, so the crowd says.

It’s supposed to be your golden age. Your time in the sun, when you can still blot out the fire giant with just your thumb. Shiny, bright statues erected ‘pon your visage and all— ruler of your own world. You cherish it, you’re supposed to, because after that time has gone and passed, what’s left is just becoming a has-been. A cling from the past, a relic, needing a fix, some polish. A husk.

They crowd says, too, that some people just age a little too fast. They burn up in the sun, shrivel up. Like processed, store bought ham chucked into a pot of burning-hot oil.

He was one of those, burnt wings and all. Charred skin.

Je-Je was squatted down on the grimy curb of the drive-thru (The menu board wasn’t working, he could chill), top of his head touching the bottom of the take-out window’s sill, a tall awning giving him shadow, just behind the establishment where the kids wouldn’t see him trying to light one up and blow some smoke. Knowing, regretting— he peaked when he was seventeen.

Left his parents’ house after highschool, thinking he was hot shit. Burned some CDs to make ends meet— five bucks a pop, a bargain— and lived life lavishly with what little plans he had, the money he’d stored for the ‘trip.’ But after reality hit,

He was fucking miserable.

The memories were good, back in the day, they were. He at least wasn’t wearing a red-yellow fit and a WcDonald’s cap on the daily back then, but when he took the time to look back on them…

He was just as fucking miserable back then too. In highschool, even back at home with Mom and Dad. That’s why he’d ran away.

The truth is, Je-Je never peaked at all. As harsh as that sounded.

No-one ever has their time to dance in the sun. The golden ages never existed; only the ruins of them, left to soak in the burning sands. Broken remains of a royal visage scattered all around. Bare, naked in the sand. A jaded dream. Stripped of shape. Of conscious. Of vividness. Dun-colored. Just blurred silhouettes still trying to vainly form whatever childish hope he was still clinging onto.

The crowd spewed a bunch of bullshit at him and got away with it. At his 22 years of age, he’s come to be bitterly aware of the fact.

He was still gripping his pillow at night just fuming about it, creasing the shit out of it — “Look upon my works, ye mighty…” — He sighs, mutters. Bringing up a box of cheap cigs out of his pockets and up to his face, thumbing it open. He popped one into his mouth, mouthed the rest of that.

And despair.

What a life to lead.

He threw back, rolled his head up to the skies, throat gulping and bobbing as he took a pull from the joint dangling on his lips. A grey cloud ambled towards the other, untainted, chalk-white ones. Stitching its gloomy puffs to them, converging, spreading its filth and misery. Je-je watched the sun be swallowed whole like a child that’d never seen the sky. Wide-mouthed, eyes still. Blowing smoke rings at the clouds. Wondering if that’d grey them even faster, if he was doing his part, also.

It would rain any time soon. A storm was coming, from the looks of it.

Dark clouds always seemed to follow him. Everywhere he tries to escape to, they just know where to find him, don’t they?

If the sky threw a temper tantrum, then that was good thing, he figured. Meant he could clock out earlier and head back home.

In a perfect world, surely.

A loud bang came on the glass behind him. He winced, rolling the eyes at that muffled yelling just barely discernible from beyond the window. He pushed back up, pinned his hat down. That perfect world didn’t exist, for all he knew.

---

The moment he stepped in, there was that immediate familiarity with the chaos, the same a soldier crawling in the barracks would feel.

There were people coming and going, tables and booths bustling with life (tragically for him), feet thumping and chattering catching his ear. Nasty old clumps of grease and food, like dry pigeon droppings on the sidewalk, line the tiled floor. In the eaves of the playground, up on the multicolored tunnel-slides, he heard kids already trying to tear each-other apart. Parents arguing, co-workers apologizing.

You see it a thousand times and become accustomed to it, part of the norm.

Je-Je stepped behind the counter, dusting off his black apron, two awaiting silhouettes already on his peripherals. He cleared his throat, waited for air to fill his lungs through clenched teeth, then gave that toothy, food-service-y smile he’d been developing — “Welcome to WcDonalds, how may I take your or……?”

His smile deflated at the sight, words slowly falling out of his mouth as he only stood there bug-eyed, looking at these two customers. One was about his height, a man with flame-red hair, different colored eyes lost in an unfocused daze— a perpetual deadpan— a katana resting at his hip.

The other— ‘buckled kneecaps’, as he’d just now mentally tagged her— annoyingly short blonde, near the size of the counter itself, wore a Victorian-seeming dress and a red hood— like she was about to deliver a bread basket to her grandmother in the woods.

The red-haired man stood there, avoiding eye contact, thin-lipped and woozy on the eyes. The chick, well, if she were a head taller, he maybe could’ve figured out what she was doing. If they were trying to mug the establishment, they were doing a terrible job at it.

“What’re you two supposed to be?”— He’d earnestly tried to keep his loose tongue in wraps, try and keep it professional, but he couldn’t temper his mouth.

Fuck if he cared about being fired anyways.

“Cosplayers?” — The redhead opened his mouth as if to speak, but ended up muttering nonsense. Just shushing down and nodding along. Je-je had taken the words right out of his mouth, it seemed — “Figured.”

Aside from the possible lethal weapon the man carried, there was a more pressing issue in his mind. Something that made him squint an eye at him, hold up a brow.

“Hold on a sec…I know you…Yeah,” — He leaned in closer, eyes widening when the realization hit — “Leaf! Yeaaaaahh! Hah! How could I ever forget those fuckin’ contact lenses of yours?” — He chuckled, pulling down on one eyelid as he leaned in further into the counter. Je-Je stumbled, elbows slipping on the counter.

He suddenly gestured with both hands banging on his chest, stuttering — “Y-You do remember me, right, buddy? From highschool? We go waaaay back, y’know…don’t do me like this.”

A trickle of cold sweat ran down his chin, he watched with pure dread paling his face as Leaf turned that awkwardly slow, reassuring nod into a mouthed ‘No’. His jaw dropped then and there, frozen, watching Leaf glance at buckled kneecaps apologetically, shrugging his shoulders.

Drooping shadows loomed on Je-Je’s face, sharpening the outline of him— he looked like he’d been struck dead-center by a lightning bolt.

“C’mon, man! Tch. Here, here— look,” — He pulled on his upper lip, showed him his pearly whites. He had a chipped bit of front-tooth, and a vacant spot where a molar should be— as if a pro boxer had checked him right on the mouth — “Bucktooth. Remember?”

“J-Hope?” — Leaf tilted his head a bit, emotion finally coming to his face. It was confusion, mixed with realization. Je-Je wanted to slap that apprehensive look out of him, leave him blank-faced again — “Call me that shit again. I’ll jump over this counter and beat your ass.”

“So it is you, huh?” — The redhead scoffs, crossing his arms — “I remember you hated that nickname. How’s the customer service life treating you?”

He threw himself back, chuckling, tut-tut-tutting with his tongue like a scolding aunt, almost disappointed in the assumption behind such a question — “Been worse, been worse~ Life’s about enjoying the little things whence they come, y’know?” — Lying just so happened to be Je-Je’s forte.

“Guess so…” — A silence hung in the air between the three, the silence Je-Je knew Leaf by. He was still good at listening, not talking. Brought a smile to his face.

“Maaan, do we gotta catch up, huh? It’s been like, what, five—six years now? How ‘bout we sit down and talk for a bit, bro? I'm bored as hell. I was just about to drop the apron and head back home too anyways.” — He finally got off the counter, cackling with a self-pleased, shit-eating grin — “Lemme take your orders, then. Make it quick, c’mon.”

“This is, uhh,” — Leaf drifted off, trying to find the right words as he glanced between Red and him — “Je-Je…from highschool.”

“Highschool, highschool, highschool…!” — Je-Je echoed, boomed, throwing his arms out and jazz-handing with each repetition, flashing the brows.

The jaded, dim sunlight— whatever remained of it, yet to be swallowed by the storm— peered through the clear, beaming down through the big windows of the WcDonald’s. A tall, hooded shadow stood scouting the insides, peering at the three of them. No intentions— no apparent ones. They sunk down into one of the leather seats, lost in the crowd.

miki

 

[joshuadim]

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

Feelers in the Deep

LOCATION:

Just outside New Oasis, closer to the North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Ryutaro, August

Feelers in the Deep

Ryu watched as the young man trailed off into the distance with his gale before all went still once more, save for the gentle hum of the car. The matter was settled, which now meant the Tiger Queen could count another card up his own sleeve in the coming crisis. Having heard the commotion of August's exit, Jackie returned by Ryu's side: "So? How'd it go?" he asked his boss.

"Well enough. He said he was in."

"Think you can trust him?" Jackie then asked, furrowing his brow. "...he already abandoned the Tigers. What's stopping him from leaving us in the wind?"

"I'd say he's quite motivated to see Markus' downfall." Ryu then said as a slight breeze kicked up nearby dirt and leaves. He took a deep breath of the crisp evening air, before sighing. "Let's head back. Don't want to raise too many eyebrows being out here for long."

Jackie gave a nod and wordlessly went to the driver's seat, while Ryu went in the back. The car rumbled to life and left the industrial devastation towards paved civilization, leaving Ryu alone with his thoughts. His eyes looked towards the distance at the ever growing towers of light, though he thought not of the high-life that was available there. Nor was he thinking of the comforts all too familiar to him. Rather, his mind trailed towards the future and its uncertainty. Though from this, amidst the waves and currents of reality the path grew ever clearer. And with it, so too grew the confidence of his plans.

In all his years in the shadows, Ryu had prepared for the coming tempest while placing the burdens of responsibility squarely on his shoulders. But it was in those times that he had retained his hesitations and pessimism. It was him against the world, and the world held every advantage. But after tonight, that had begun to change.

Ryu began to believe that he could win.

= SCENE END = ​

Doctor Llamabean

 

[Elenion Aura]

The Doppelgänger

SCENE:

Late-Night Chase

TIME:

Nighttime, post-arc 1

LOCATION:

Aksher Co. offices, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Minato

LATE-NIGHT CHASE

Through the—just a teensy bit crushing—weight upon his shoulders, Minato lifted his arms to the keyboard. His fingers flew across the keys. In a flash, he'd entered the code which he'd memorized for this exact situation and pressed enter. The command window closed and the console rebooted.

"And... Voila!" Minato craned his neck back to peer up at the looming Phoenix, clearly proud of himself. His mission was complete. There was nothing that could stop it, now. Everything else was gravy, baby!

 

[Elenion Aura]

RAPHAEL SHAW

CS Link

SCENE:

Dissonant Ichors

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1: December 21, 2020 -- Dusk

LOCATION:

Alleyway, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Darius, Raph

DISSONANT ICHORS

A little smirk teased the corners of his mouth.

“You're with the Sable Serpents? You?" He asked with a hint of incredulity, sidling a half-step back as if to take in the full measure of Darius' person, like an art critic appraising a particularly amateurish piece of work. The blood swirled lazily around his limp fingers.

“You know, that's funny. You know why?" Raph asked cavalierly as he stepped forward. With a flick of his wrist, the blood became crimson knives, their bleeding edges bared at Darius' exposed neck. “It's funny... Because I'm a Sable Serpent. ~"

With a devilish glint in his eye, Raph slasheed his hand across the air and the blood obeyed, slicing not Darius' neck, but the steel that bound him in place. Raph didn't know if the mewling man before him was telling the truth or not. He certainly didn't look, or particularly sound, like any Sable Serpent he'd ever known. But if he was really a Serpent, Raph knew someone who'd know. And if he wasn't, well...

“Aren't you so lucky that I found you? ~"

 

[thebigfella]

Zentsupa Pei

CS Link

SCENE:

Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile

LOCATION:

Underground Arena, South District

TIME:

July 21st, 2022 | | Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Mugen Elenion Aura , Kisara simj26

Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile

The wheels burned rubber, tore through the cracked streets, and drove over the faded paints. Every pothole the wheels hit caused the massive truck to jostle, and its contents hanging loosely in its trunk flew up in the air, spiraling through the sky like confetti.

It didn’t stop; as if a brick had been placed on its gas pedal, its engine roared, puffing out black smoke as everything distorted in a blur. Its momentum grew as it bolted down the unkempt streets, crushing debris and rubble underneath its tires.

The truck slammed itself through a sign, its bent shape draping over the road, the words “One Way” now sticking right through the windshield as the vehicle ignored all warnings. Quickly approaching was the stone walls of a building, and it didn’t stop.

With a deafening crash, the truck slammed into the wall, crashing through the stone and bringing the bricks toppling down, glass of the windows shattered, and wooden frames splintered underneath the force. Gas leaked from its tank, spurting like a river, igniting an explosion. Shrapnel exploded everywhere, smoke blasted through all the cracks, and fire spewed up into the sky. Numerous sheets of paper flew up into the air and fell like snowflakes.

People came to watch the explosion with curiosity, but their ogling was torn away from the crash to look up at the sky as shadows draped over them from swarms of paper coming down from above. One reached up to snatch one of the slips from the sky, scrunching it between their fingers before unfurling it to see what it said.

“Kekekekekek…”


The high rises, skyscrapers, and office towers rose high above neighborhoods of gated communities and mansions, and fancy cars drove through the streets. People dressed in designer clothes strode along the sidewalks. The slums were kept in the shadows, overclouded by the wealth—museums and fancy clubs, five-star restaurants, and stadiums.

A swarm flew from above, careening over the massive buildings and floating down from above the clouds, what seemed like birds at a distance; as eyes narrowed and focused straightened, so came buzzing, whirring blades.

As soon as they were noticed, they began to release their payload. Pounds of papers dropped from compartments that opened up, they fell from the sky, attached to rocks that broke building and car windows, slamming people right upon their heads, and numerous other bits of property damage, but also mixed in were things like water balloons and glass bottles. People ducking for cover, screams of shock and pain from the sudden assault, and only out of the corner of their eye did they spot the slides of paper tied right around rocks, shoved into bottles, and messages engraved on the balloons that had not popped when they hit the ground.

“Kekekekekekek!”

In serene streets, birds chirped and nestled themselves within trees. Dogs held by leashes were led along their owners. The sound of music from a local band played from a nearby park, and faint, smooth folk music acted as the backdrop.

Light sneaked through a window into a dimly lit building, casting beams across the checkered patterned floor. Glass cases containing pastries, cakes, and cookies. Old-style cash register and aged decor. A woman stepped towards the door, keys jingling in her pocket.

She turned the knob and pushed the door, but it did not move, perplexed she tried again but felt no difference. With grunts and shoves, she had to push her whole body against the door until, with a loud tear, she finally made her way out.

Sprawled across the pavement, she slowly pushed herself back up to the ground. As she turned around to see what was blocking the door, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.

Posters had been taped across her door, not just the door but the whole storefront, not just the storefront, but the whole street. Posters underneath her feet, plastered across the windows and the brick of mortar, trailing down the entire way in patterns of white, circling around telephone poles and streetlights like a serpent. Parked cars had their entire sides covered with them, and newspaper vending machines had their contents stuffed with posters. An old lady walking with her dog had even had the posters stuck to her street-facing side, along with her dog, as they slowly walked the way down, both oblivious.

“KEKEKEKEKEKEK!”

Continuous cackling echoed through the scenery. The ghoulish appearance of the face plastered upon the posters seemed to be laughing, and its overabundant joy at the madness slowly grew louder and louder.

Until a crack of thunder. A bleak sky, and then the deafening sounds of heavy rain as it pounded against roofs and pavement.

Graffiti-covered walls, imagery of birds of fire, and talons formed of flames. Marks of territory were painted into the buildings, etched like tattoos within stone.

A ribbit, a croak, mechanical and crackling through automated speakers. A single frog, a single spinning key, twirled in its back as its body sprung across the ground; like it was real and alive, it splashed in a puddle, its throat inflating as it groaned, before continuing to hop and bound down the empty road. The lone frog hopped and leaped until it reached a small alley; darkness swallowed its entryway, the sudden end of graffiti as it ended right as the alleyway opened as if it was a gap between reality itself. Lightning flashed, and thunder roared, illuminating the darkness momentarily as the frog lept into the alley.

It only had to hop a few times before it turned to face a metal door. As it slowly crawled closer, a roaring of voices began to shake the atmosphere, the sounds of chanting and rancorous cheers. As it crawled its slimy body through the rusting louver, it was immediately swallowed by light.


The slamming of a sweaty body against a chain fence, the sound of crunching bone, blood splattering against the white floor of an arena, joined by a few teeth. Roars and cries erupted throughout the scenery. Giant stadium floodlights illuminated the cage as the center of the room. Stands surrounded it at all edges as people filled the seats. Money grasped between their fingers as they clutched at the barriers keeping them out from the arena, men in jackets and covered in tattoos acting as a second round of defense.

From within the cage, two men in a brawl, one bleeding from his mouth as his back leaned against the black chains, slumping as his jaw bruised and bubbled purple, eyes closed shut with bruises.

He spat out another wad of blood as his head turned up to force his eyes open. He only got to see the hazy silhouette of his opponent basking in the light before a fist once again slammed into his face. Repeatedly, scarred and bruised knuckles slammed into his skull, splitting it and spurting blood as his body slowly weakened until he wasn’t able to keep himself propped up anymore, falling to the ground. Yet, the assault didn’t stop. His opponent only jumped on top of him, continuing to beat his face into disfigurement. The crowd continued to explode in shouts and screams; frustration at lost bets and demands for more brutality swirled together.


“YAAAAHAHAHAHA!” A new laugh as the perspective went from clear to broken up by the blur and feathering caused by a close-up perspective of LEDs; multiple TVs lined the walls, showing different perspectives of the arena and the crowd, leaving no blind spots within the building. Sitting in the middle of the room was a large red sofa, and sitting upon it was a single man with two women at his side, side candy that clutched at his chest and shoulders as he held a glass of wine between his fingers.


Two bodyguards stood behind him, both leaning against the wall. They kept their eyes closed in disinterest at what was happening, and their boss laughed at the ongoing battle.

He brought the rim of the glass up to his thick lips and gulped as bumps traveled down his throat. He sighed in relief as he removed the glass from his mouth, a faint trail of stringy saliva linking it to the rim as it glistened into the light before he licked across his lips.

​

​

“This is rich!”









He declared, shaking his head as he raised his glass in the air, “You wouldn’t believe what he told me before stepping into that ring!” He shouted, looking at the woman on his right, “Please…let me fight! If I win, I can make enough to pay for my dad’s surgery…!” He mimicked a voice in a very mocking timbre, his eyes softening and half-lidded, before he quickly snapped back to his regular expression, mouth opened wide in a massive smile as he turned to the woman on his left, “What an idiot!” he shouted with a wide open jaw, tongue nearly hanging out of his mouth, “As if some amateur could last in a deathmatch against a professional fighter! What an idiot! YAAHAHAHA!”

Both girls giggled, raising a hand to cover her mouth coyly, “Come on, Hugo, no need to be so mean!~” She tried to “defend” the poor fighter, but it was clear she was just playing devil’s advocate out of humor, earning a chuckle from Hugo as he raised his glass of wine, splashing it onto the black carpet as he smirked, “Mean!? I went ahead and put him against a lower-bracket fighter cause I’m so damn nice! And look at him still! What a fuckin’ chump!”

“YAHAHAHAHA!”

“KEKEKEKEKEKEK!”

A louder cackle overshadowed Hugo’s laugh, and immediately, he stopped his laugh. Both women next to him looked around in confusion as the man grasped his hands on both of their shoulders. He traded a glance towards both of his bodyguards, who had already distanced themselves up straight, their eyes snapping across the dark corners of the room.

The perpetrator didn’t take long to hide; a giant grin and shiny teeth shimmered with the shadows, and steps came as the man’s body emerged from the darkness, from a silhouette to a well-defined character. His messy blonde hair, jagged, knife-like ears, and snaggletoothed smile made him seem up to no good.

“Yo, shitstains! Kekekekek! Looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself! Mind if I join your movie night!?” Pei asked, his hands in his pockets as he casually commanded the scene. He stood slouched and looked at the man operating this underground fighting arena.

“Who the hell are you?” Hugo asked, his gaze narrowed as he stood up from the couch, “You one of Rang’s goons?” He questioned, his sharp frown slowly shifting to a grin, “Sorry, but I already told her--”


“Kekekekek! You fuckin’ dumbass!” Pei immediately interrupted Hugo’s attempt at a spiel, pointing toward him with his massive sneer, “You should already have figured it out, fatass! This is bigger than your small-time squabbles!”

Hugo’s smirk slowly dissipated and was replaced with a vein of anger. The women on the sofa peered over the back of the couch towards Pei with nervous glances as Hugo raised a finger and snapped.

The bodyguards cracked their knuckles as they strode towards Pei, smiling sadistically as they seemed like they were going to enjoy making the following unknown amount of hours of Pei’s life hell. As the massive men concaved on him, Pei’s grin didn’t go anywhere; it only grew more prominent as he waited patiently for them to approach.


A hand reached out towards him, and as soon as it got close enough, a shimmering slash went through the air. It cleaved clean through the man’s fingers and nose tip instantly, his appendages dropping to the ground. Pei raised a hand to cover himself from getting sprayed by blood as screams of agony came from the first bodyguard as he crumpled to the ground. As the other was left dumbfounded, looking at his partner in shock, a similar gleam passed across his neck, and in the next instant, it had flopped off, with only a scrap of the skin keeping it connected as it twirled loosely; the man’s body falling to the ground in a puddle of crimson.

Screams came from the onlooking women; Hugo’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses, frozen in place as he blinked in disbelief.

“Kekekekek,” Pei softly chuckled as he moved his hand out of his face, and from his side, soft squeaks of paws joined him; a small samurai joined his side, its body bright blue from its pelt to its armor, its sword covered in dark red blood, which with a quick swing it was clean once more, and then sheathed. Bushineko’s slitted eyes looked upward but didn’t move as Pei strolled over the bodies, stepping over them like trash on the ground.


“S-Stay away!” Hugo shouted; quickly, all his cockiness disappeared as he was left stumbling backward, falling against his table and knocking his bottle of wine off; it shattered against the ground, splashing his pants as he attempted to shove himself away.

The girls on the couch quickly stood up and ran out of the room as they screamed, rushing past Pei and through the doors, leaving the man with no other lines of defense as Pei hopped up onto the sofa, resting on it like a gargoyle as he peered down from it.

“STAY AWAYYYYY!” Hugo roared as he stuck his fingers underneath his jacket. Pulling out a gun, Hugo quickly raised it towards Pei. His fingers tightened against the trigger, but Pei had already hopped through the air, and like a rabid vampire, he came down on top of Hugo, pinning the larger man underneath his legs.

The feeling of a cold barrel against his forehead froze Hugo solid, and through Pei’s tiny, malicious eyes, he saw the reflection of a pink gun that looked like a toy held up to his forehead. Pei’s cackle under his breath and his slow lean forward to close the distance between them told him all he needed to know as his shaky hand let go of his gun, letting it clatter against the ground.

His breath hitched, and shaky inhales and exhales traveled through his body. He slowly raised his hands in surrender. Pei gave him a cocky smirk, putting more pressure on the gun.

“Let’s work together. Kekekekek.” Pei demanded.

A deal with the devil that couldn’t be refused.

Hugo swallowed and weakly nodded.

---

The blood had been cleaned from the arena, and the fight had already ended. People bite their teeth, waiting for the next battle to start. Chatters and mumbles throughout the surroundings ended once footsteps echoed heavily, and everyone’s eyes went toward the source.

Hugo stepped towards the center of the room, stepping into the arena, a microphone held between his fingers. His eyes scanned the crowd, spinning around to look at them before he finally raised the microphone to his lips.

In any other situation, the boisterous and bombastic man would have begun rattling off various things to excite the crowd, empty platitudes, insults, and expectations to rile everyone up and get them spending money and making bets. But now, his words were not his own. He only breathed heavily, finally opening his mouth.

“The next fight…” He began before slowly raising his fingers towards the crowd; it shook and quivered, and his head was dropped but slowly raised to show his sweat-dripping face and gritting teeth.

“Will be all of you. The audience.”

“A free-for-all will commence until there are only 2 survivors.”

“If you don’t want to take part. You have 1 minute to leave.”

Palpable tension began to rise. People were confused and in disbelief, thinking this was some kind of joke, and looked at Hugo with frowns and grins.

That was until the count began.

“59.”

And immediately, people began to panic.

Many rose from their seats; they pushed, tossed, and piled over each other to run towards the doors.

“OUTTA MY WAY! OUTTA MY WAY DAMNIT!”

“A FREE FOR ALL!? HAS HE GONE INSANE!?”

“LIKE HELL I’MMA STAY HERE AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!”

Shouts and screams of the fearful and enraged crowd poured through the aisles, trying to make themselves out of the underground stadium. Continuous counting came through the speakers as Hugo continued to rattle down the numbers, a depressive shadow over his face as he clutched the microphone closely.

“30….29….28…”

Whoever was left when the countdown ended, what was awaiting them?

Some more cocky spectators stayed in their seats, expecting nothing to happen or for it to be something beneficial. Others kept themselves in place, the taste of battle tingling their taste buds and lymph nodes.

Whatever the reason, when the countdown ended, it wouldn’t matter.

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

Operation Burning Heartthrob

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 10th 2021

LOCATION:

South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Vulken

Operation Burning Heartthrob

"Yeah...You're right, I guess I just panicked a bit and said whatever first topic came to mind that could be interesting." He muttered while his chin rested atop the wooden counter. But seriously, history about classical composers? Did you REALLY think that was an interest topic for anyone? Please.

His head remained low just like his spirits, but listened to Vulken regardless. "Oh, well the Keisteryhme was a song composed in honor of th- Hey where're you going?" A quick twist of his hips sent him sitting on the opposite direction in his stool, his elbows now serving as support as he observed the man in action. From the corner of his eyes, however, he spotted the brand new glass, his lips puckered in deep inner debate, before downing the second drink with reckless abandon.

Vulken sure made it look easy, huh? The crimson phoenix approached the little raven with nary a doubt in his eyes, the connection in their exchange as natural as a river's flow. But more imporantly than the lack of effort in the veteran's courting technique...He was flirting with another man? The fledgeling stared in surprised as he unveiled a new page of the enigmatic beacon of heat. The boy himself didn't exactly fancy other men himself, but hey, love is love!

"No no, it's okay." He responded while shaking his head, followed by a tipsy smirk of his own. "That was impressive regardless!" The rookie turned, calling the bartender for another round, he already started drinking, so why bother stopping now? The thick base of the glass rattled against the little imperfections of the barnished wood as it slid against him. "My type, huh?" He leaned his head to the side slightly, his cheek almost touching the glass he was gripping at like a claw machine. The terse skin of his cheek reflected on the glossy surface full of mahogany liquid.

"My type, huh? Well..." He took a quick sip, the strong taste not really bothering him anymore. "I guess I like the ones with a lotta energy, y'know? It's fun to be with someone else who shows enthusiasm n' stuff" His head tilted to the other side, slowly. "I also really like light hair, like blonde! Just think it's cute!"

Nobody Special

 

[Roda the Red]

CAMILA GASPARI

CS Link

SCENE:

Not Quite Pet Sitting

TIME:

Post-Arc 2, January 2nd 2022

LOCATION:

Nighttime, Invaded factory, North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Camila, Dante Aguilar

Not Quite Pet Sitting

Dante's acrobatic entrance was met with one of similar finesse, betraying what might otherwise be the look of an innocent and harmless girl (Well, at least if you managed to overlook the two-meter spaded tail slithering behind her). Fighting might've been far from her forte, but that didn't mean she didn't know how to stealth her way around, in fact, that might've been the very reason why her head hasn't rolled down by now. An imp at heart, she knew how to survive.

With a relatively safe location for the duo to lay their backs against, Camila pulled out her phone. She broke through the combination of her password with extreme haste, as to not let any intruding eyes of a certain nearby rookie to memorize them. She looked with impatience at the loading screen, a file loading with irritating delay. "Got the blueprints of the place last night" She spoke in a low voice, her phone displaying a series of detailed pictures, displaying the proportions and rooms of the building with pinpoint accuracy.

"Seventy-thousand square feet, three floors and thirteen rooms not including the main warehouse areas that occupy most of the space." With her left hand, she made a pinching hand gesture, her middle finger and thumb gently pressed against the lowly-lit screen, before splitting them apart, zooming in the picture at a specific room on the third floor.

"Last owner of this place had a big safe in his office, supposedly hidden. I'm guessing that anyone with half a brain would think that's the best place to hide those papers" She then pinched the bridge of her nose. "But just as you said, we're dealing with serpents, so no idea if that's the case at all".

Dried grass crunched under the weight of a heavy step, just a few meters away from the tigers' location. It only took a split second for her phone to be safely back in her pocket, her face slowly poking through the edge of the container. "Just one guy here..."

Camila's wire-like appendage released itself from its coiling positiong around her waist. Glimmering a blueish silver from the radiating moonlight as it slithered against the surface of their cover. The girl turned to her left, emerald eyes locking with the deep-black orbs of the man. "Think you can deal with that guy? Not gonna be easy for me to do so without having him make any damn noise."

Haze-

 

[thebigfella]

Officer Hyde

CS Link

SCENE:

Homecoming

LOCATION:

Lower Central Ruins

DATE:

Nighttime, Streets of Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Eric, Justus, Inigo, Chikage

Homecoming

The world opened like a gaping maw. The rubble was its meal, swallowed into the abyss, while jagged pieces of rusted metal and sharpened rocks of torn sediment acted as the teeth. A hollow whistle as the wind danced through gaps and flew through openings like pixies, casting a haunting breeze. The sounds of car alarms and screams, the roars of chimerics, all had stopped and left an all-encompassing, ominous stillness. Papers crushed underneath debris fluttered slightly, and plastic scraps tumbled across shattered roads like desert weeds.

The streetlights had been capsized, bent, and torqued, shattered glass resting at their roots, uprooted from metal bases to allow their crackling wires to snap in the air. Flashes of light, faint as wisps within the darkness, repeated like disorganized strobes.


A car was crushed underneath a fallen building. Its dying, fading light beat like a heart through shattered lenses, weakening blood flow as the pulses grew longer and slower, but it acted as enough just to illuminate the vicinity. A path had been carved like a worm had drilled itself through the soil, the archway of toppled buildings that had collapsed on each other and against the supports of upper central to make a grand arch of crumbling foundations, stray glass and gravel occasionally fell from the sky in conjunction with the sounds of bending, snapping, and scraping. A temporary break in between total and destruction in which a balance from carnage was temporarily given. Within the concrete jungle, hostile architecture forms in response to the carnage caused by the tremors of the Earthquake.

Empty roads, lonely streets, and the lack of life within the ruins were as reassuring as it was damning, the results of evacuation and quick thinking had kept many out of harm’s way, but evidence of recent events was still dressed upon bloodied soil. Jagged rocks stained dry crimson, marks of claws scarred into the side of buildings, there was a faint smell of something in the air, a mix between burning flesh and the undigested stomach contents. Gasoline joined the aroma as leaks from broken lines had pooled to the surface, along with the flooding caused by torn sewer lines and uprooted fire hydrants.

Everything was a hazard; safety was a concern, and no one could wander through safely. Yet, in places such as these, where no one sane would dare breathe the air, let alone stand within the vicinity, the defenders of peace jump in headfirst.

A keychain jingled, spinning around between fingers. Joined by different-colored keys of bronze and silver were hooks that connected to various charms, cute caricatures of rabbits and cats, and sparkles and shimmers of glitter that hung loosely from bandaged, rugged fingers.

A bent cigarette hangs from his mouth. Despite the danger of an explosion, he doesn’t seem too worried, letting the ashes fall to the ground from the dim ember. He keeps himself propped on top of a sideways toppled Sudan, legs dangling down the windshield as he holds his police radio up to his mouth.

“This is Hyde, 10-23.” He spoke through the speaker; there was only a brief pause before another voice replied with an audible click and a static crackle.

“Heard 10-23. The search squad is 10-49. Status?” A feminine tone barely made it through the distortion, and the service wasn’t great down here.

“Dark as hell,” Hyde dryly replied, finally stopping the swinging of his keychain. “I can barely see my hand in front of my face. I hope the search and rescue team brought some lights with them.”

“They have been given all the proper equipment needed, so do not worry. Just focus on your job. Your potential is important to ensure the quick evacuation, assuming things begin to fall apart.”

With that, the connection was cut off, leaving Hyde to let his radio go right back to his chest as he pushed himself up to his feet. He turned to look towards the all-encompassing void that led deeper into the tunnel of rubble. Within darkness, it seemed endless.

“This is one of the last places we haven’t surveyed yet, huh?” He asked, a click of his tongue as he shoved his hands into his pockets, that cutesy keychain hanging out from his right, his dreary eyes closing as he tilted his head back.

“I hope this is worth it, all for some SOS signal, one we don't even know where it even came from.”

A small sigh escaped his lips, and with it a plume of smoke that slowly floated upwards as his chest compressed.

“...I got a bad feeling.”

 

[King Crimson]

LI DAIYU

CS Link

SCENE:

The Game [Post-Arc 3, July 3rd]

LOCATION:

The Precipice, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Missy ( BriiAngelic ), Mugen ( Elenion Aura )

THE GAME

"...Sucksh...This sucks..."

Like clockwork, the pessimistic grumbling echoed once more throughout the barren, empty locker room, bouncing right off of of the barren, windowless drywall, and empty, rusted lockers, and right back irritatingly into the ears of the only living soul within to hear them, just as they had thirty minutes ago, and just as they had thirty minutes before then.

This was supposed to be a simple job, offered "generously" to her as a way to pay back some of the bar tabs Li Daiyu had racked up over the past few days; go in, do some cleaning, some cooking, some waitressing, the kind of easy, odd jobs she'd gotten used to doing in exchange for funding her beer habit.
But, of course, she should have known that the good folks that held her debts over her head like a guillotine, and that there would be the caveat that the place she'd be working for was an underground arena, where dumb, meat-headed morons beat each other stupid in a cage for the amusement of a bunch of rich, sadistic bastards.
Well, to their credit, the night did start out fairly normal, until she got just a little thirsty working in the kitchen, and decided to help herself to just liiittle bit of the chef's stock of wine.
Really, they didn't have to get that mad about it, and how was she supposed to know that that bottle she drank was supposed to be used for cooking anyway?

Well, in any case, here she was, lounging on an old, rickety metal bench, staring at a particularly interesting crack in the roof, locked inside of this room as she helplessly waited until she was called on to join the other meatheads in that cage.
And, knowing the Tigers, she probably would have wound up in here, no matter what she did.
She brought the large, hollowed out gourd in her hand to her lips, drinking deep of the sweet wine held within, relishing the familiar burn in her throat, and the sudden clarity of her senses, before pulling the bottle away with a lamentable sigh.
She was trapped in here against her will, waiting to possibly die, and worst of all, her bottle was now half-empty.
Her agitated eyes turned towards the locked door, which, for the entire duration of her stay, had remained as still and quiet as a tombstone, with nary a sound or movement to be heard outside, almost as if they had forgotten about her.
Swinging unsteadily to her feet, she decided to test that wishful notion, drunkenly stumbling her way across the room, until she steadied herself by planting both hands upon the door's panel.
With a balled fist, she gave a few testing knocks, before loudly yelling, "Heeeeey~!! Heeelloooo~!? Anybody out theeere~!?"
Her frustration seeped into the next few knocks, which came with a bit more force, and a lot more agitation.

"Heeeeeey~!! Lemme out!!

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

CHIYOME

SCENE:

Growing Pains

TIME:

Post-Outbreak || July 15th, 2022

LOCATION:

East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Xuefeng, Jackson, Kanna, Renjiro, Isaiah

GROWING PAINS

Meeting Xuefeng’s eyes as she held the hilt of her sword, Chiyome realized three things: the chimeric child was more dangerous than she first surmised; she was uncertain she could overpower him in a scuffle without hurting him too much, and; he reminded her a little of Hanako, her younger sister.

She silently mulled over these thoughts as the party made their way out into the courtyard leading to the Eastern Market District. She walked ten steps behind her superiors, always keeping a wary eye on Xuefeng as they went. The chatter of market goers echoed up where they were, along with faint scents of fried karaage and spring onion pancakes that made her salivate. Of course, she kept her expression neutral, betraying no hint of her growing hunger, as a bushi should.

Then Xuefeng made an attempt at freedom, bolting for the stairs. Chiyome tensed her legs to run after the boy, but the Jack of the Dragons was faster. In a way that Chiyome didn’t entirely comprehend, Kanna propelled herself forward almost effortlessly to grab the boy by the scruff of his neck. Impressive, it was. How amazing it would be to see it wielded in battle…

Meanwhile, the chimeric child, trapped as he was in Kanna’'s grip, now reminded Chiyome of Hanako's puffy, frowny face when she got caught sneaking out of the castle. It brought a small smile to the woman’s face, which she quickly schooled back into neutrality. She felt no small amount of shame that the Jack of the Dragons had to step in to keep the child from running away. ‘I must be more vigilant. There is no room for mistakes, even if the mission is just babysitting.’

Yet her mind (and her gaze) kept turning towards that one karaage stall…

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

To Live in the Shadows

TIME:

Afternoon, Pre-Arc 1, June 11th 2020

LOCATION:

Nameless Warehouse, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Helva

To Live in the Shadows

The alcohol was a cure that felt like poison, singing at his flesh once it made contact. Tears built up on the corner of his eye as the torture continued, his mind focusing on good memories and a brighter future alike, the pain was naught but a mere obstacle for better things to come.

At some point, the pain mostly disappeared, quiet steps taken by the girl beside him, her grasp on him now a story of the past. She went on about detailing what was to come, making sure to emphasize that danger was still very much on the table.

"Field experience, huh..." He lightly scratched his chin, a smile forming as thoughts cemented themselves. "That's kind of exciting, I mean, after all..." He turned to face the woman, not an ounce of fear in his eyes. "I'm already going to be facing a lot of danger if I get to pass, right? No point in getting cold feet."

Through clunky and slow movements, the boy began to get back on his feet, palms pressing down on his bent knees finished shooting him up on a straight position. "I think I'm just gonna rest at home meanwhile, I mean, I already told you." He place his fist against his chest. "I'm completely broke!"

"I was just wondering something, who was that purple-haired jerk?" He scratched the back of his head, fingernails digging into the ocean-blue locks. "I thought I was just going to fight Revenant, but that guy attack me from the back...But, he DID leave a bit later, was that guy even a Phoenix?"

Peckinou

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

HECTOR MOSES

CS Link

SCENE:

You Know The Rules, And So Do I

LOCATION:

Some Park, Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Eric, Hector

YOU KNOW THE RULES, AND SO DO I

Hector couldn’t help but crack a smile, showing a few teeth that were biting against his lower lip in pure concentration as his pick swung just above the cop’s body. Whether the cop’s quip, his laughable cockiness, or the sweet satisfaction of drawing blood made him smile, nobody was to know. It was short-lived in any case. Ignoring the threat in the sky, he focused his efforts on trying to thwart the firing of the cannon.

”No need. I’m always motivated to butcher a pig.”

The momentum of his pick-arm stopped around halfway up the Phoenix’s body as he took large strides towards Eric as the cannon fired. Charging directly into the line of fire may have seemed unwise, but Hector batted his army towards it, hoping to either stop the ball of light in its tracks, or better yet, return it to the sender. There was little he could do about the smaller projectiles that rained down like fiery hailstones. Each burned for a second, battering his skin, leaving a residual sting, throwing him off just enough where his batting aim wasn’t as great as he’d like. At least the cannonball didn’t hit him.

”You’re pretty crafty, ain’tcha? And it still isn’t enough.”

 

[Coyote Hart]

Gideon Gray

CS Link

SCENE:

Torment Builds Character, Right?

LOCATION:

Clark's Cafe, South District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

Gideon, Hector

TORMENT BUILDS CHARACTER, RIGHT?

"No, no, your judgment is alright," Gideon said hastily. It was only too late when he realized that the way he said it might've made it sound like it was an insult, but Gideon had more important matters to take care of. Gideon's heart rate accelerated rapidly as adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream when Hector grabbed him. But it was just to wipe his coffee stained hand all over Gideon's shirt. The villain's mouth went slightly ajar as he sputtered out, "I-- that's not what I mea-- ugh, whatever."

It wasn't as if Gideon had a dozen other exact copies of the same shirt in his dresser.

Gideon let himself be dragged around by Hector, and when he was brought to the car, he obediently got in. But instead of taking the shotgun seat, Gideon opted for the back right seat, diametrically opposite from where Hector was. That way he could put as much space between himself and that terrifying monster of a leader.

"So you want me to help out with negotiations," Gideon released an internal sigh of relief. It seemed that the lacrosse stick that Miles had lent him wasn't going to come in handy this time around, thankfully. He wouldn't have to hurt anybody, "Yeah, I guess I could help out with that."

Gideon wasn't the type to use his potential in small every day matters. From a logical perspective, making use of his Potential in everyday interactions would be the best way to rise to the top of the pecking order, but for some reason, Gideon found it unsavory. Wrong in a way. Not in an immoral way, but just wrong.

"I can make people think thoughts," Gideon said. He hastily followed up, "I know that sounds lame, but it's good for putting ideas into people's heads. But it can't be something too off from what they'd usually think, because... well... because."

Gideon left it at that. He was sure that Hector didn't want a lesson in psychology. Blabbering on would probably earn him trouble. To demonstrate, Gideon projected a simple thought into Hector's mind, "Wait, wasn't that the street I was supposed to turn at?"

"Small things like making people think they missed their turn," Gideon said nervously. He had never dared to use his Potential on Hector until now, "So maybe you'll find that useful?"

WhiskeyMarten

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

CHIYOME

SCENE:

Phantom of Euphoric Memories

TIME:

Post-Outbreak || July 20th, 2022

LOCATION:

Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Free for All

PHANTOM OF EUPHORIC MEMORIES

Fate was fickle, cruel, and unfathomable. These were words her father muttered every now and then when he was alive, more so at the height of their country’s civil war. Fitting, then, that Chiyome remembered those words as she walked along the dark, damp streets of the Lower Central District, a paper bag held tight in her left hand.

Her leather boots splashed along puddles in the pothole-riddled ground, echoing against the dingy walls of buildings that loomed oppressively in the dark of night. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of trash bags haphazardly strewn about, mixed with notes of burnt rubber and week-old unwashed humans. Chiyome kept wondering if it was worth the trip to buy the limited-edition Bakeneko Premium Salmon cat food for Kuro and Shiro from that hooded bald guy wearing the gas mask. But her cats were the only living creatures keeping her tethered, and their joy doused the embers of sorrow nestled in her chest, so brave the dangers of fate she did.

Boom, went the explosion somewhere to her distant right. Prudence dictated that she prioritize the safe delivery of cat food back to her home in the East. Honor demanded that she head on over to assess the situation and take care of any malicious elements. Clicking her tongue, she stuffed the paper bag inside the spacious inner pocket of her blazer and made her way to the source of the explosion. The alleyways twisted and turned, a labyrinth filled with broken bottles and drunkards, yet Chiyome trusted her ears to guide her through as she sped along. Another explosion rang, louder this time, which meant Chiyome was close to her destination.

One more turn, and the alleway opened to reveal a graveyard, with bodies littered all around. Bits and pieces of flesh, limbs, and organs were scattered amongst the graves, painting the old tombstones with a macabre mix of brown and crimson. Those who still had their bodies intact were writhing or shuffling along the ground, moaning something she couldn’t make out. It was a gruesome sight, but nothing Chiyome wasn’t used to. In her waking memory, the hills of her ancestral home ran red with the blood of thousands, the corpses of people she condemned to their deaths.

A sound drew her eye, and up in the moonlit sky there was a man hanging onto what appeared to be a small robot, hovering above the carnage. He held in his hands the smoking barrel of a weapon Chiyome could only assume was the cause of all this destruction. Her objective clear, she took a deep breath, and ran back towards the alleyway. Without missing a beat, she kicked off the ground and towards the wall of the nearby building. Riding the momentum, she jumped off of it and towards the opposite wall, again and again until she reached the top. She flipped over the side, ran across the roof as fast as she could, and launched herself towards the man with the spiky blonde hair. In one swift motion she drew Hanabi from its scabbard and slashed at the robot holding the man aloft.

BriiAngelic thebigfella Jexon Whells

 

[simj26]

Elise Cutter

SCENE:

Telephone Line

TIME:

July 20th, 2022

LOCATION:

North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Dagger

Telephone Line

She was completely unsure as to what she should say or do here. She had never the capacity to be an empath, she had never been much of someone that others looked to for warmth and support. She was cold steel, biting and unfeeling, not warm flames, inviting and comforting. Even with Julie, all she had to offer was her shoulder and a listening ear. And even Julie knew that if she wanted a sounding board or an echo chamber, she would have gone to one of the other three available.

She didn't understand. She couldn't understand. After she had left Amestria, she had been alone. No, even long before that, she had always been alone. The pack she ran with, they might have been family, she might have loved them enough to kill for them, to kill in their names, but she had never been affectionate or open, just as many would be. She hated the feeling of needing to depend on others, she hated the feeling of needing to speak out on how she felt, how she thought. To their credit, her family wisely left her alone. They loved her, and they understood that she loved them as well, just in her own way. She was thankful for that.

The Princess was a whole other beast, however. Elise didn't need her words to know that the place brought back memories. She didn't pride herself on her people skills, but she thought it was clear from the look on the princess's face that she had memories of a place almost like this. She followed dumbly behind the princess as she made her way into an office deeper inside the poor excuse of a room, her boots treading carefully over the dust and detritus scattered around the floor.

The Princess continued to talk, every word tinged in pain. It hurt even her to hear them coming out of her mouth. Why was she doing this? Why was she intentionally showing her scars to her, of all people? And why were those scars causing a dead woman so much pain?

Her heart ached. She was not used to this. She was unfamiliar with it. All of her pain, her sorrow, her hatred was hers and hers alone, her burden to shoulder, she would never let another carry it, and she would never carry another's willingly.

Yet, the pain was not entirely uncomfortable. Some part of her understood that she was helping, in some way or another. Something like Jules complaining about the price of coffee going up, but not quite. Maybe it was something like that. Maybe not. For one, Jules was always more open about her feelings, Seri never really did that. It was usually a mask. Always a chipper tone, trying to downplay whatever it was that was bothering her. Like how she was doing right now.

But where did that leave her? She felt as if she was supposed to say something. Do something. Nothing came to mind. She took in a deep breath. One thing at a time. Just say something, even if it was bland and dull and grey as the last thing she said.

“Yeah.” She paused, running back the questions that the princess had fired away at her, then shook her head. “No. I meant ‘no’.” That wasn't right either. “I mean, yes. No. I'm–” she scowled, and tried again.

“I'm free. For breakfast. I don't mind.”

Even if she had other arrangements, she would have postponed them anyway. She wanted to spend more time with the princess. It felt like the right thing to do. With that forlorn smile on the princess’ face, she wanted to throw her arms around the princess, tell her things that could help lift that weight, something, anything to give her some breathing space.

But she couldn't. She wasn't that person.

The One Eyed Bandit​

 

[Jexon Whells]

Scene Director

TIME:

Pre- Outbreak: 2022 July 1st

SCENE:

Agonizing Bonechill

LOCATION:

Littleleaf, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Jackson BriiAngelic , Yona CasualTea , Lloyd Jexon Whells

Agonizing Bonechill

Though their formation has changed, the battle is in full effect still. Lloyd had charged in with a relentless assault to become the focus of attention, taking out one enemy in the process. However, he himself then got pinned against a wall shortly after by another one of their enemies. In the meantime, Jackson was checking up on Yona who had expended a lot of her energy already. But with fierce encouragement she told Jackson not to worry about her while she created a crude ice blade which she throw at the earth user.

After one last command to Yona to stay back and keep herself safe, Jackson charged in as well, skewering one of the workers. Adding the wave of pain from his Potential, the worker was dead within seconds. At the same time, Lloyd broke himself free from the earthen pillar that had pinned him to the wall, and after another mighty roar would charge again. The enemy was ready and focused on Lloyd, which left him completely unaware of the ice blade thrown at him. It hits him and leaves a deep laceration his arm and ruins his focus. "Perhaps the battle will be over soon."

 

[Wxnter]

Callista Reinhart

CS Link

Scene:

Bitter Aftertaste

Time:

Pre Arc 1 - June 7, 2022

Location:

The Cerulean Orchid

Participants:

Callista, Eric Roda the Red

Bitter Aftertaste

The damsel arched an eyebrow at his whimsical illusion of an umbrella, a subtle smirk playing at the edges of her lips. She eyed him curiously as he took a sip of his drink, offering only a vague response to her question. When Gregory's gaze returned to her, it carried a weight of solemnity, his expression tinged with melancholy. The color of his eyes reminded her of the early rays of morning light.

"Tyler," Callista pronounced, the barest of smiles flickering over her lips. "It has a nice ring to it." Callista held his gaze as she raised her glass to her lips, downing what remained of her drink in one large gulp. It was a cautious move on his part to fabricate his name, leaving her to wonder which identity was false: Tyler or Gregory. Perhaps both; but it was a matter of no importance to her.

As the clock struck midnight, the lively dance music yielded to mellow jazz tunes. The strobe lights dimmed, and the soft glow of lights from beneath the bar enveloped the room in a dreamlike ambiance. The crowd began to thin out, some drifting toward the exit while others gravitated toward the vacant seats. It being a Tuesday night, the majority have opted for an early retreat to their homes.

"Call me Rose," declared Callista, her voice carrying a hint of warmth amidst the dwindling commotion. "Weeknights here hold a certain allure for me. As you can see…" She gestured gracefully toward their surroundings. "The atmosphere completely shifts after the main party is over, and only a few remain." With most people gone, the place had become an ideal space for uninterrupted conversation.

"Do you enjoy coffee?" Callista glanced at Tyler's half-empty glass, a memory stirring of his valiant effort to thwart Gideon's assault on their office's coffee machine. Such dedication hinted at his deep appreciation for the brew. An idea struck her then. "I have just the thing in mind."

The damsel's eyes sparkled with excitement as she beckoned the bartender over. Her passion for mixology was a well-kept secret; she wasn't a heavy drinker by any means, but she relished learning about various concoctions and their intricate preparation. A peculiar hobby, perhaps, but one that fascinated her more than social interactions. Objects were easier to understand than most people.

"A B54 and a Mudslide," Callista specified, raising a single finger. "If you would, please."

"Coming right up," the bartender acknowledged.

In a matter of moments, the drinks were prepared. The bartender deftly slid two shot glasses across the bar, each containing a coffee liqueur base. Yet, while the B54 boasted a delicate layering of Amaretto, the Mudslide swirled with the addition of vodka. Callista turned to Gregory with an impish grin.
"Well? Pick your poison."

 

[CasualTea]

Welsha Reaper

CS Link

SCENE:

What's the Tea

LOCATION:

Moonflower Cafe, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Yona Kowloong CasualTea , Welsha Reaper

What's the Tea

Welsha frowned a bit as she listened to Yona express her disagreement, while she perhaps did have better circumstances when it comes to their parents their philosophy of thinking was more so a greater picture of things. If Yona actually ever met their parents she might consider them a bit cruel with their survival method of parenting though perhaps maybe not considering she herself didn't come from a peachy family. Still she didn't exactly refute her statement simply managing to speak out "Perhaps they do, in their own way." she recalled all the times her parents put her in a situation that could of ended with her being killed if she wasn't smart, charismatic or strong enough to survive it, but those thoughts were put to the back of her head as they went on to a new topic.

Welsha narrowed her eyes a bit when she mentioned that some of her efforts to obtain money weren't clean, she knew that it meant that she probably did a few criminal acts back then. She pondered on weather or not to ask her about it, until Yona began to ask her about her music taste, Welsha paused for a brief moment as if pondering on the question, before shaking her head. "Sorry I really don't listen to much music, unless you could count snoring as music." she chuckled a bit at the last part as her smile returned once again. "You can play whatever you want I won't mind too much."

Yona Kowloong

CS Link

TIME:

Pre-Outbreak: June 21, 2022

SCENE:

What's the Tea Genshin Impact - A Sweet Smile

LOCATION:

Moonflower Cafe, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Yona Kowloong, Welsha Reaper Peckinou

What's the Tea

"Alright, then. Perhaps some classical music... Hm, non, maybe just regular pop---" She said as she was turning the channel to a popular radio channel that plays what they considered the greatest hits. However, just as she finished tuning the channel, the audible crack of the windshield pierced their ears as Yona reflexively ducked to the side a bit but kept her wheel steady. "Merde!" Upon examination of the windshield, there was a bullet hole through it and one just like it in Yona's head rest. "Shit! Welsha, hold on tight!" She said as she began to drive more erratically as sniper shots kept coming down upon them, mostly aiming for Yona. She sped up and took more turns to lose the sniper but it soon began clear that everywhere they were going, they were still getting shot at by snipers. It was such an intense situation that Yona didn't realize her accent slipped up to her normal one. "Welsha! Any safe areas we can park in?!" She called out, swerving amidst traffic and avoid the pedestrians as they continued getting bullets hammering the vehicle.

 

[CasualTea]

Rohen Vista

CS Link

SCENE:

Hoodwinked [July 15th, 2022]

LOCATION:

The Suede Bee, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Rohen, Passeri The One Eyed Bandit , Dyne Damafaud

Hoodwinked

So far, so good. Of course, this was a ballsy first play but whatever she can do to get her target's attention. And it looks like she already caught her eye. She looked at her and gave her a soft chuckle. Time to put her acting skill to use. "Could say that. I actually live here, but I spend so much time abroad that you could say I live practically everywhere." With a statement like that, anyone could think you're loaded. Either that or you're a drifter somehow finding the money to get around places. Need to spice it up then. "I may not look it, but I'm quite the businesswoman. And after striking a particularly good deal, I'm just feelin' a little more daring and riding that high to where it feels good." She boasted. "Who knows, maybe I'll get really lucky tonight." She said those words in a bit of a tempting way but meant no means of seduction. She had to understand. Her and her target are both females. Usually, most strangers don't dabble in that sort of thing together in bed. So what she really meant was hitting an even bigger jackpot and going home to a mattress made out of money.

Of course, this is all a lie and just a front she's putting up to advertise herself to her target. Perhaps she's going at it too hard from the start? Nah, she hasn't even bought the drinks yet. Her boss would give her a heads up if she felt like she was being a bit too pushy with her words and acting. Well since she asked a question, it's only fair she would offer one back. It's almost basic if you want to keep a conversation going. "What about you? You from around here or also on vacation?" She asked.

 

[CasualTea]

Yona Kowloong

CS Link

TIME:

2022, July 22nd

SCENE:

Thou Shalt Not Detonate Sicario - The Beast

LOCATION:

Pleasure District Sewers, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

THE POPE @Vorifengrous , Lloyd Jexon Whells , Renjiro @Beann , Yona (Me) , Aerith thebigfella

Thou Shalt Not Detonate

The greenlight came and Lloyd would lead the group. She stuck close behind him, learning from their previous mission. She needn't charge in if she can't see. Might as well let him take the brunt of any attack since that was his specialty, like a tank. A juggernaut. She also stuck close to him as out of the group, two of them seem to be... rambling in odd sentences. She knows one of them is named "The Pope" but she felt like that bit was taken quite far. She couldn't understand what he nor the other girl was saying. Even if she spoke in english, the meaning of her words fell on Yona's deaf ears. She didn't want to be close to them in order to keep her head levelled and focused.

"Just tell me when, Lloyd. I'm ready this time." She said, assuring him that she was up for this fight. It was a familiar environment and familiar setting. Just instead without Jackson. She'd honestly rather wished it was just the three of them again. Plus Renjiro. Renjiro didn't seem like the type to ramble meaningless nothings into the abyss teeming with combat ready serpents, waiting for them to walk right into their teeth.

 

[CasualTea]

Yona Kowloong

CS Link

TIME:

Pre-Outbreak: July 1st, 2022

SCENE:

Agonizing Bonechill "The Switch"

LOCATION:

Littleleaf, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Jackson, Lloyd, Yona

Agonizing Bonechill

A level head... A level head... Yona kept thinking as she tried to keep her focus stable. As she looked at various objects, shapes and bodies, their outlines were accompanied with an assortment of colors that traced their figures. She was losing it. But at this point, she felt she can move just a bit fine. Almost like being drunk on alcohol and making your way out. She was wobbly, swaying but mobile. She can tough it out. Seeing as her first ice blade hit, it was sure enough a distraction for Lloyd to get back into the fight. Even then, with a wound like that, fragments of ice can be found in it which Yona took advantage of.

After creating an ice wall behind them that was easily breakable, Yona executed her next action. As cruel as it sounds, she used her potential to start expanding those ice fragments lodged in the laceration to make it a complete hinderance to the enemy's arm where they can barely move it. An agonizing bone chill effect was being put onto their enemy and causing a great deal amount of pain. Perhaps so that it might just break and fall off. However, she was putting a great deal of focus into it and blocking out everything around her. She wasn't watching the rear. As long as the ice wall remained, they can be rest assured that there would be no reinforcements coming from behind. While it was easily breakable, it'd give notice about reinforcements or if they needed to retreat that Lloyd, even Jackson, can break through the ice.

 

[Peckinou]

Hiyma

CS Link

SCENE:

To live in the shadows

LOCATION:

Warehouse, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiyma, Charlie Roda the Red

To live in the shadows

She honestly expected the kid to get a bit of cold feet as she explained things to him, it wouldn't be a first time and probably not the last time either, but he seemed more exceited than what not. She honestly didn't understand people sometimes but she supposed it was good for him, he already got this far might as well see it through to the end. Helvas trials were rigorous and they would only get harder with each person that ends up actually passing it, Hiyma rolled her eyes as he mentioned how excited he was before adding on "Yeah, yeah but remember real deal missions are more unpredictable so we won't even know what expect, so don't be acting too reckless or end up doing something stupid like putting yourself in situations that you know you can't get yourself out of. These trials aren't just about physical strength, but also mental strength, you aren't going to pass if you are a complete brute with no brains, you got to be smart and have a plethora of skills." Hiyma went silent as she just gave him a hint on how to pass the later trials, before he went on to advise her on how he now wanted to get some rest and how his financial situation was less than ideal.

"Oh yeah you will defiantly need plenty of that in order to recover, and don't worry if you manage to pass you will get plenty of opportunities to make money, plus Revernant likes to take really good care of her Sponsorees so you shouldn't have to worry too much about falling onto hard and desperate times." She knew about all the things Helva did for Skadi and if things ever got bad she could always rely on the system Helva has for them to help them recover when needed. But with what Charlie said next Hiyma snapped out of her thoughts before frowning and saying "Oh you talking about Upyr, he is a annoying pain and yes he is a Pheonix, though you shouldn't worry too much about him, he is typically kept on a short leash most of the time, and as much of a pain he is he has his uses, if you pass Revernants trials you will learn all you need to know about me, Revernant and Upyr, but for now I suggest you focus on recovering and make sure you are ready for when we contact you again, you can make it back home on your own right? or do you think your gonna need a lift there?"

[/justi

 

[tityanya]

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐

CS Link

SCENE:

They Tell You Not To Mix Chemicals Because You Can Make Mustard Gas, But Nobody Tells You How Mixing People Makes Something More Deadly

LOCATION:

North District Rental

TIME:

May 6th, 2022 || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak

They Tell You Not To Mix Chemicals Because You Can Make Mustard Gas, But Nobody Tells You How Mixing People Makes Something More Deadly

Naomi ignored the feral Tak in front of her, a serene smile on her face as she readied the knife to cut the pita. She couldn't ignore the comment about cutting off fingers, though. She laughed as she sliced through the plastic, imagining it was fingers instead. "Very northern justice, but we haven't reached that point yet," Naomi said, referring to the North's violent reputation. As the pita began to fall from its prison, Tak dove for it like some kind of reject quarterback. No control, only chaos. Naomi laughed as he ran into furniture, knocking abandoned chairs and drinks over.

He rose his pita trophy in one hand, rising back to his feet, definitely worse for the wear. He flapped the pita around, and Naomi watched it full of fascination, wondering about the structure of it and how it didn't just rip in half from the sheer force. Tak must have taken her look as desire for the pita, informing her that it was first come first serve and then slobbering all over it. Naomi's head tilted to the side, her lips curled in mild disgust. "Who said I wanted it, dork?" she said with a dismissive hand wave. "I want something with a little more flavor than some bland bread," she said, blowing a raspberry back at Tak. She couldn't hold the haughty air for much longer though, instead dissolving into a fit of giggles.

But before he took a bite of the pita, Naomi could see his one brain cell starting to churn, smoke pouring out of his ears. “WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YA SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!?” he roared, slamming the pita bread back down on the unconscious man's face. Naomi giggled, thinking of those videos where people would throw cheese on their cats.

She gasped with surprise as Tak grabbed at her shoulders, his eyes crazy. Naomi didn't break eye contact, knowing that the only way to battle crazy was to be just as, if not more, crazy. He confessed his hatred for pita bread like it was some deep, dark secret. "Well, yeah. Pita's only good if you can dip it something," Naomi said, her tone saying that this was the most obvious thing in the world. She barely even noticed the shaking, as the various drugs she had partaken had already left her feeling like she was rocking back and forth, even when she was standing still.

Ta's eyes began to well up at the idea of Naomi buying him food. "Well yeah, of course. When have I ever lied to you?" she'd probably lied to him a bunch, actually. Like about having siblings. But those lies didn't matter. Those were to keep him in the dark so they could still be friends! No, as far as she was aware, she hadn't lied to him about anything important. Although, what her idea of important and someone else's idea of important were probably drastically different.

But as quickly as Tak's tears came, they faded away, instead replaced by a manly look as he told Nao that he wouldn't drain her wallet because he was a gentleman. She couldn't hold it in, bursting out laughing at his bold statement. She leaned forward into his chest, completely off-balance and relying on him to stay upright. Her hands clutched at his shirt to keep herself off the floor as she was wracked with laughter. Get it together, Nao. a very distance voice in her head commanded. Take some deep breaths. Naomi gasped for air, trying her best to take deep breaths in-between laughter. After a few moments, she let go of Tak and took a step back. "You're the epitome of gentlemanly behavior," she tried for a straight tone, but couldn't help but laugh a little at the word gentlemanly. There were a lot of words one could use to describe Tak, but Nao didn't think that would ever be one of them.

Tak began thinking of what he wanted to eat, and Naomi lost all track of reality, staring at the designs the lights made on the wall, and how they warped and shifted with the music. Tak's words about curry washed over her mind, just for a moment. Just enough time for him to wonder if she was listening (she wasn't.) The song ended, and the brief silence snapped Nao out of her trance. "What was that? Curry? Sounds delicious!" she smiled, clapping her hands together, her gaze still faraway and dreamy. So Tak knew a man that would deliver curry to the North? Awesome! She could tell by the look on Tak's face that this was someone he knew well.

He reached his hands into his pocket, pulling out the greasiest, dirtiest piece of paper Naomi ever saw. And he handed it to her. "Oh, thanks," she said, taking the piece of paper between the tips of two fingers. It was hard to read through all the grime, but she recognized a few different styles of curry. A menu. "Let's go outside to order? What do you recommend?" she asked, already heading towards the door without waiting for Tak's confirmation. He would follow if he wanted curry.

POST NOTES​

((ooc: ))
((Outfit: grey dress and sweater))
((Tonight))

thebigfella