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AKIRA TSUCHIYA
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 3 [The Faceless Fox]
LOCATION:
Akira's Office, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Akira, Dante, Pablo, Welsha, Kiwi
THE FACELESS FOX

I see, I see…

Akira patiently nodded his head, eyes shimmering with ‘interest’ as he listened to his assistant explain what she was working on. There was a gentle smile on his face as he looked at her from his desk. She was being as vague as ever– omitting as many key details as she possibly could. What was in this usb? Who was this ‘guy’ her pawns were making a delivery to? She was smart, but Akira wouldn’t have had it any other way.

After all, why would somebody as secretive and lucrative as he was want an assistant that lacked intelligence?

He couldn’t help but laugh out loud at her ‘Deliveriwi’ pitch, spinning around in his chair as he did so before stopping to stand up and gaze at the city through one of the many tall window panes lining the wall.

Haah. Maybe I should set you up with Feng Ma. If you do a good enough job, I’ll make him give you Bolt Transport and you can do some rebranding!

He laughed again at the bizarre (but by no means impossible) thought, sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed while following one of the dozen cars driving down the main road with his burgundy eyes.

Speaking of, I haven’t gotten any calls, yet…” He muttered, lifting his arm up to glance at the watch on the palm-side of his wrist. It normally didn't take this long, right?

Looks like my prediction was right. Some of my toys are starting to break.

gxxberkit gxxberkit
 
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NPC Posts - M, Miles & 'Thelma'
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 1 [PASSERI PARK'S ULTRA PASSIONATE MELODY ONSLAUGHT]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Pascal, Gavril, Milo, Jackson
THE GREAT THRESHOLD > THE HALL OF INSIGHT
The doors swung wide before Jackson, unveiling a maw of pure black. A light haze hung low in the air, illuminated by the Threshold's twisting, neon spaghetti of colours. Makoto backpedalled from the heavy set of doors, and her eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of irritation and surprise. She wanted to move forward, true, but having to look at Jackson's smug face almost made her want to slam the door shut before any of them could make it through.

But, she steeled herself. Her shoulders tensed, and a vein just about shot out of her skull as she followed after the blonde, allowing his blithering comments to wash over her gracious back. She, instead, cast her mind to the future, determining that as soon as she won this thing, she'd dedicate a sliver of her winnings to making his life hell.

And then the door started to swing shut. The tension that filled her body unfurled, and she sprung forward as quickly as she could, though given her choice of footwear that was unfortunately not very quick at all. Her brow very nearly bolted itself together, and in one burst of furious, petty effort, she sprung forward, catching Flo by the scruff of her collar and yanking her back onto her side of the Threshold.

"Oh no you fucking don't!" She hissed, wrestling Flo to the ground in the brief moment that lay between her snatching the element of surprise, and the professional boxer turning the tables on her. Her grip was short-lived, and swiftly broken by a quick, reflexive elbow to the gut, but it was enough. The doors swung shut, and the last sight Jackson caught would be Makoto's middle finger, standing tall and proud.

She would've preferred to slow down Jackson instead, but getting payback on the boxer for her rude entrance was just about as satisfying. This way he'd be on his own from here on out, too.

~~~

"Sheesh." Miles' voice kicked in, filling the void which had now become all-consuming with the Threshold's sealing. "Sure know how to kick up some drama, you two! This'll make for great television, you've got my thanks."

Surrounding Jackson, there was nothing, only a hall of stretching blackness. Just beyond his touch, walls led him forward, narrowing, twisting and converging, until they were close enough for him to touch both with ease.

"And I've got some good news for you, too! Since teamwork doesn't seem to be your forte, you'll be pleased to know that your next challenge'll be easy as pie to do on your own! Welcome, one and all, to..." He spoke as Jackson moved down the converging hall, waiting until the moment when it would be considered more of a hallway before announcing the challenge with his trademark, flamboyant roar.

"...THE HALLLL OF INSIIGGGHHTTTT!!!" His voice echoed loudly, tumbling just far enough through the light-muted section of the maze to each Pascal and 'Thelma's' ears. "This one's straightforward, kid. Not even that blunette could mess it up. A classic maze! Make it to the centre for a special prize, or just one of the other exits to move forward. And don't worry about ending back up the way you came." Behind Jackson, a wall shifted. "As of just now, you're stuck! Good luck!"

~~~

"Look at you taking charge, you really are a Ted!" 'Thelma' said, and let themselves trial behind Pascal by a few centimetres. There was no point in his leading the way if he wasn't actually leading, after all. They followed merrily alongside him as they wandered through the reflective part of the maze, occasionally pausing to squint and one of their warped reflections. But otherwise sticking to the shaggy blonde like toilet-paper on a shoe.

Some time passed as they two delved deeper into the maze, led on by their merry camaraderie until they came to a sudden stop. Their ears perked up, twitching as if they were trying to play the role of the group dog rather than the witty brainiac, an impression that was not helped by the fact that they sniffed the air, too.

"Do you hear that? It smells funny." They said, their voice bristling with excitement, as they shuffled to the right. They pressed down on one of the carnival mirrors, which clicked open cleanly, and then stuck their head into the waiting void.

"...allll of insiiggghhtttt..."


"HELLLOOOOO????" They called without a care, projecting the full force of their voice into the dark, narrow passages. "ANYBODY BACK THEREEEE???" They yelled again, and then popped their head back into the illuminated part of the maze.

"Did you hear that? Reeks of mystery, if you ask me!" They grinned wide, and started to hop on between their feet. "What do you say, Ted? You wanna get to the bottom of things?"
 
NPC Post - Lydia Trope
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 1 [PASSERI PARK'S ULTRA PASSIONATE MELODY ONSLAUGHT]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Florence, Pascal, Gavril, Milo, Dimitri, Jackson
THE IRIS
As Milo leaned into her, Lydia's eyes shimmered, and a myriad of iridescent colours refracted through her glasses. Within himself, he'd feel some sort of primal, but implacable change, like a switch had been flipped within the depths of his soul. Lydia smiled warmly as her eyes returned to their usual dull, inky hue, and then clapped Milo on the shoulder cheerfully.

"Congrats, you passed! You've got lovely eyes, you know that?" Behind her, the quartet of doors swung wide. "It's a shame about your buddy, though. I had a pal who had a habit of getting into a pickle or two myself back during my service, so I can sympathize! I don't think Miles would care much, though. He's always going on about how important contracts are."

She leaned back into her chair, or at least, leaned back into it as much as she could a stool, and rubbed her brow in genuine contemplation. If she recalled correctly, this was one of the contestants that she was supposed to keep an eye on. One of the favourites, if she had to put it to a word, so she hardly figured that anyone was going to be happy with her if she just showed him the back door and sent him on his merry way.

"You're putting me in a pinch here, honestly!" She laughed. "Things'd be a lot simpler on any other day, but the boss lady let us know that she'd be hard to get a hold of today, so Miles is the one calling the shots on everything, and he's about as 'The show must go on!' as you can get! But, hmm~" Something glimmered in her eyes, this time not literally, and she fished about in her pockets. A few pieces of stray candy tumbled to the ground, and then she produced a slim, golden key.

"If there's something he likes more than anything, it's a good storyline!" She held the key between herself and Milo, and waved it playfully. "So here's an idea~ You can either bust through every wall you see until you're out of here, and deal with the consequences of vandalizing a multi-million dollar set on camera" She gestured to one of the dozens of cameras that littered the refurbished mall. "Or you punch me in the face, take this, and then use it on the big gate through that third door over there."

She gestured with the key, pointing out the door she'd mentioned. There was little special about it, as far as Milo could tell at least, but that had been rather the point.

"That'll take you to his special challenge! Give it a go, make a nice show out of it, and I bet you'll be out of here in a jiffy!" She nodded to one of the cameras again, this time giving it a little wave. "I'm sure he would've butted in already if he didn't like the idea! Just make sure to sell the punch. Cute little you decking me out of nowhere? It'll make for a great twist.
 
BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
CDPD-HQ, Upper Central District — Second floor
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Ashley, Gideon, Roza, Tatsuya, Inigo, Eric, (NPCs)
TACTICAL MAYHEM
They argued back and forth for some time, Boltius and the detective. Long enough for Boltius to disregard the detective as a major threat. Though, not so little a threat that he was willing to let him go. No, Boltius had wanted to keep an eye on him…

Slippery little fuck, he thundered down the hall in pursuit of the detective who’d managed to evade him.

His hair roared with flame; fists, too. Thermal plume rippling and distorting the image around the flames’ dancing edges. When he noticed, he shook his hands and the flames ceased without decreasing temperature—Vulken had taught him that one—then did his head the same, pursuit steady, showing no alarm at the now-present issuing of gunfire throughout the building.

He thought of how the detective had escaped him again and snarled at the memory, only then catching glimpse of a figure vanishing around the corner up ahead.

Boltius sped up, “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GO-”

It happened fast.

The ceiling above cracked and rained down upon him a disgorge of tile and metal, wires and wood. Everything but the shoulder of a man phased through his being, which he quickly ducked, tucked, and rolled clear of at the initial contact.

Crouched in a position ready to pounce, piercing ochre eyes darted from face to face, first recognizing Ashley and noting the unfamiliars. He identified the one as Ashley’s opponent, then all at once adopted a look of utter and complete bewilderment at the sight of Dyne Enjyre.

“. . . Hah?”

Had she been a cop all this time!?

Bolt’s heat seemed to dwindle in the presence of Ash, but unlike eight-months ago, he still burned hot to the touch. Vulken taught him that one, too. Compressed temperature so that he could better fight alongside his comrades, those who couldn’t withstand it.

“No fuckin’ way,” the Ace whispered, still glaring hard confusion at his intimate partner of many months now.

Unbeknownst to Boltius, the contact made by Inigo had rendered him free of the previous detective’s potential. He was tangible again; though, he’d never thought himself intangible.
BOLTIUS/POST NOTES
— —Current Temperature: 1'000+ Fahrenheit to the touch but no emanating heat

— —What he's wearing (Click) Black Coat over an orange/grey/black Jacket + Matching Shorts w/ black leggings underneath; Orange sneakers; Black flat-bill cap; No gloves, harness, or jewelry as seen in the reference image...

— —Boltius' Tattoo Reference (X) His tattoo is currently hidden/unseen by his clothes...

— —Boltius' Physique Reference, since his face-claim art doesn't accurately depict it (X) (X)

— —POST RECAP: Tatsuya escapes Boltius and runs. During his pursuit, Boltius is almost crushed by Ashley and Inigo's descent to the second floor but the effects of Tatsuya's potential protect him. Inigo's shoulder makes contact with Bolt and disables the effects of Tatsuya's potential on Boltius, who then notices Dyne and is confused.

— —Upper Sector CDPD Floors:
1st Floor, Visitors Center... The main floor from which people come and go.
2nd, Officers Division... Where officers conduct their work. Includes many rooms dedicated to varying purposes.
3rd, Detectives Division... Where detectives conduct their work. Includes many rooms dedicated to varying purposes.
4th, Dispatch Center... Includes two large, separate offices of call cubicles, one labeled Center A and the other Center B.

When descending from Upper CDPD to Lower CDPD via freight elevator, one passes through a glass tunnel that offers a high-rise view of the underground city.

(Interacting w/ Tatsuya, Inigo, Ashley, Dyne, Oliver)
(Mentioned no one)
Nobody Special Nobody Special simj26 simj26 Lucem Lucem Damafaud Damafaud
 
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NPC POST - "BANDY"
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
CDPD-HQ, Upper Central District — 1st Floor, hallway
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Ashley, Gideon, Tatsuya, Inigo, Eric, (NPCs)
TACTICAL MAYHEM
Each floor shook with the battle of Phoenix versus CDPD.

A unit of six in riot gear, armed and on the steady prowl, a riot shield taking the lead as they inched forth with a mind for stealth, checking every room and office in passing for intruders or civilians, careful to distinguish predator from prey.

The sound of gunfire rang in intervals from different parts of the building, calculated shots most of them, none yet the panicked squeezing of a trigger, which meant ground was being stood. For now…

They cleared a room and moved on. Ignorant of a butterfly here and there. Ignorant of the Phoenix in their midst.

Sweat made slick the insides of gloves, and breath fogged on face shields. Not an unpinched brow among them. Each one, NPs especially, abused by knowing what enemy they faced. Morale seemed to dive off with every minute that passed; to take flight a temptation above temptations. Had the feeling been understood to be mutual, it’s likely each officer would have given to that temptation and sprung to freedom locked at the hands in proud cowardice.

But no.

When eyes met it was brief. No one wanted to be read.

Cautiously, together, they rounded the next corner, heeding practiced arm-and-hand signals and swift but quiet verbal queues from the lead.

A glimpse of blonde halfway down the corridor’s expanse gave them immediate pause and guns went up.

“HANDS UP!!” The lead screamed. “HANDS UP! TURN AROUND AND KEEP YOUR HANDS UP!”

She didn’t look like a gangster, but anything was possible in this city.

When her hands came up, one of the officers spoke into a walkie and reported her as a likely civilian, and the unit slowly made their approach, closing the distance.

Bandy was positioned at the back, face unrecognizable as ally or foe to either cop or Phoenix behind the dark tint of those goggles. He’d swapped places with the original wearer of the gear without notice. The snap of a finger and he was there; the perfect infiltrator, playing the part of CDPD personnel for shits and giggles. Waiting for the perfect reveal~
BANDY/POST NOTES
— —Bandy's Potential: Swap: he can swap places with another person at the snap of a finger so long as they're within sight.

 
EVIELLE, SOON-TO-BE OVERLORD OF NEW OASIS
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
Upper and Lower Central Districts
PARTICIPANTS:
Ashley, Boltius, Eric, Gideon, Inigo, Tatsuya, Callista
TACTICAL MAYHEM
Gregory Gallons. What an odd name. Part of Gideon wondered if Gregory's parents had treated him like trash too, and given him such a silly alliterative name to spite him. But then again, Gideon himself had the same name as a fucking Zootopia character, and he was pretty sure that his parents didn't give that name to him out of spite.

In the face of Gregory's plight, Gideon's stance softened. For a moment, Gideon wondered if it was possible to convince the officer to stand down and perhaps end this confrontation peacefully. Maybe he could even go invite the guy for a cup of coffee and occupy him for as long as possible-- if there wasn't a wall around the entire police complex.

But then Gideon realized something terrible. Something crucial. There weren't actually any tears streaming down Gregory's face.

By that point, it was too late. Gideon shielded his eyes from Eric's flashbang, and in his moment of weakness, he failed to dodge out of the way. Eric's hands clasped around Gideon's neck, sending him into the wall behind him. The air was knocked out of his lungs with a wheeze. It hurt. Gideon's bones ached with pain.

"Yes! Yes!" Gideon shouted madly when he recovered from his disorientation, "What a magnificent speech befitting a paragon of a police officer, the hero of the people! But know that I as your villainous counterpart won't go down so easily! Our battle will be legendary!"

Perhaps his words would have more weight if he wasn't currently in a chokehold and barely able to force out his words.

Gideon drew from his satchel a grenade, which he brought up to his mouth to pull the pin with his teeth. Then he lobbed the grenade.

The target wasn't Eric though. If it was, then Gideon would've gotten himself caught up in the explosion. No, the target was the coffee machine. The very thing that Gideon threatened to blow up if Gregory hadn't stood down. Now he would make good on his threat, and teach Gregory the consequences of defying his will.

"Let go. Save your precious coffee machine," Gideon dared Eric.

Roda the Red Roda the Red
Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Lucem Lucem simj26 simj26 Wxnter Wxnter Nobody Special Nobody Special Damafaud Damafaud
 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Filth In The Gutter
LOCATION:
Lab Icarus, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Mimi, Orion, Rutheless, Sang-Cheol, Ten, Yuna, Yuto
Ruriko, Schroeder, Silva
THE SUN IN THE GUTTER

Soon, Darius found himself at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t know what to expect, being confined to the ground floor until this point. What he hoped for was something a bit more secure than what was ahead of him, instead, it was just a dimly lit storage area. Darius didn’t dare snoop, unsure whether Sang-Cheol was lurking nearby, but he trudged on, legs and arms shaking.

He could still hear the chaos above. What if he got buried alive down here? What could he do if that transformer fell down here with him? He heard footsteps and he stopped, his heart pounding through his chest, holding his breath until he saw a familiar face.

Ten!

There wasn’t time for words. Darius rushed up to his partner, forgetting every danger nearby to wrap them in a tight embrace. He hadn’t noticed yet.

“Ten, oh my God. I didn’t know if you…”

After another moment of hugging, Darius brought himself away, holding Ten by their shoulders. Then he noticed, and his heart skipped a beat. He stared, mouth agape in horror as he studied the fresh burns.

“Ten, what-” He didn’t need to ask what happened. “I’m so sorry…”
 
MYSTERY INCORPORATED
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Dragon and the Phoenix]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Meirin, (Kanna) || Kaede, Yong-Yut
THE DRAGON AND THE PHOENIX
recap of recent events happens and then yy, kaede, isaiah, and meirin team up to follow the kings. isaiah informs kanna about what they're doing.

Yong-Yut’s eyes flickered between the Dragons in front of her. They were willing to help, however apprehensive, and that was good enough.

She followed the Ace’s line of sight to Helva, her expression shifting to a slightly more displeased one. Calming down the Revenant was… an impossible task, to say the least. Especially if Yong-Yut was the one to try it, knowing their shaky relationship.

She simply looked back to him, wordlessly apologizing with a shake of the head.

Out of the corner of her eye, though, a third Dragon approached— rapidly.

The scarf she wielded molded itself into a faux-shield, but it was unnecessary as the unknown assailant was stopped by Meirin. Carefully, Yong-Yut lowered the fabric.

The man that Kaede… was, slowly made his way to join the group, and after Meirin was done speaking, Kaede shared her side. Yong-Yut nodded along to the words shared by Meirin and Kaede, only giving a quiet, “Right,” as they finished.

But only moments after they spoke, the sky went dark.

Immediately, Isaiah tightened his grip on his knife. For a moment, he believed that the Phoenixes in front of him had set a trap, and he listened for the sound of their approach, prepared to strike back. However, when neither of them made an attempt to take advantage of the darkness, it became clear that they were just as blind as him and Meirin.

While he became less suspicious of Yong-Yut and "Momo", he didn't let his guard down. He stuck close to Meirin, hoping his eyes would adjust to the sudden lack of light as he tried to see more than a few feet in front of him. Unfortunately, it looked like that wouldn't be happening. He was used to operating at night and in the shadows, but the darkness swallowing the battlefield was unnatural, appearing out of nowhere. It was more than obvious that it had to be the effect of someone's Potential.

It was hard to tell just how far the black void stretched, and wandering the area without being able to see was too dangerous. Trying to escape or find the source of the veil by running through it wasn't viable, but there was still one option available. They could still go up.

"Giant, can you size up and get us a better view?" He wordlessly called out to Meirin as he pressed his shoulder against hers, still listening out for any attackers lurking in the gloom.

Meirin nodded as she started to grow, proportionately expanding in size and height. Five feet. Ten feet. She didn’t know how high she had to climb to escape the veil of darkness, but Meirin wasn’t deaf. She could still hear the sounds of battle and the claps of heavenly thunder as the two kings clashed. The taller she grew, the louder the sounds became as she closed the distance between herself and those in the sky. She followed the sounds. Past 21 feet, Meirin’s vision cleared and she could see the fighting kings…as well as the interloper who assisted the Phoenix King, bombarding a metal-shielded Shen with junk. Still, she continued to grow.

The now 100-feet woman reached out to try and grab the enemy king, prepared to jump as necessary, but Shen seemed to have the same idea…and he was much faster. “King!!! Where are you going!!?”

However, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, giving further credence to her gut and Momo’s story as her eyes followed the gang lieges across the sky.

This was a mess. Shrouded in darkness, Kaede could sense neither her allies nor her foes. A truly counterproductive move if the intention wasn't to confuse everyone present without discrimination. The man's tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth and he clicked it. Tsk. He couldn't exactly start walking around willy-nilly either or lest he could risk bumping into Yong-Yut or worse.

The man perked his ears and crouched down to the ground to listen for all and any sound. The battlefield reverberated through his head in a chaotic requiem but aside from the occasional scream, he couldn't discern any approaching footsteps. He pushed his palm flat against the asphalt, coarse and cold and picked up on a faint rumble underneath the wrinkled fingers. He coaxed the knife out of the back pocket and nursed it in his free hand. The rumble increased in strength.

"Yong-Yut do you think you can find the car?" He called out for his ally in a moment of seriousness and dropped nicknames. If worse came to worst, then they would at least have a chance to evacuate if Kaede made a quick swap for the rooftop body.

And presuming that the dragons were still in proximity, he would make sure to protect at least Yong-Yut if he couldn't grab anyone else. Kaede traced the route of the car under lidded eyes and made a mental approximation of how far they would have to reverse it to reach the sidewalk bump.

Yong-Yut’s scarf had wrapped around her hand, outstretched in two different directions— one end to her left, and the other behind her, in accordance with Kaede's request. The words that echoed from Meirin made their way down. With a tilt of her head, her brows furrowed. “Their King is gone…?”

The end of the cloth behind them slapped the roof of the car Kaede arrived in, eliciting a hum from the Phoenix. “Got the car,” they informed. The fabric slid across the vehicle’s doors until it found the wing mirror, tying itself around it. The other side continued to extend until it grasped the floating marble. Once the scarf wrapped around the orb, it quickly withdrew with it until the orb found itself in Yong-Yut’s hands. “Taking the orb,” they called to Skadi (though, unbeknownst to her, she was not heard) before turning their head to see the Dragon’s Ace. To her surprise, he was unshadowed. “Wha—”

“Dragons! Are you in or not?”


“IN???” Meirin’s voice boomed as the giantess glanced down at the darkness covering the lower half of her body, just below her knees. Distinguishing old man “Momo”’s voice from the chaotic chatter below her would’ve probably been impossible if Meirin hadn’t trained her senses. Still, conversing with the people she couldn’t see was bothersome, so she shrunk back to her normal 5’6’’ height in a matter of seconds. She looked to the illusioned Isaiah, whose image–due to being a fabrication of the mind–was still clear to her amidst the darkness, before shrugging. “You did offer to help them.”

It would be dishonorable to go back on one’s word. She called in the direction of the Phoenixes. “If your goal is to chase down our kings, and figure out what went wrong, then I guess we’re in! They’ve left the battle and are headed to the other side of central!”

Like Meirin said, Isaiah did offer to help the Phoenixes if something unnatural was afflicting the fleeing gang leaders. However, after hearing the eyewitness provide more detail on the events that transpired, he had plenty of reasons to doubt the claims. There wasn't enough information to make a definite conclusion. It was impossible to say that this battle wasn't the outcome that their Kings desired. Still, he acknowledged that the events that followed were unusual. Meirin also seemed to believe Shen wasn't acting like himself, and while he could think of many reasons why that may have been the case, he did trust the Giant's instincts.

At this point, it didn't really matter if he believed in the balding man's story or not. Even without him and Meirin, the Phoenixes would fly to their King's side, leaving Shen outnumbered. He knew that the Steel Tempest was a force without equal, but when fighting against multiple enemies with unknown abilities, the tide of battle could easily turn. The quickest way to even those odds and support the East's ruler was to use the means available to him.

Aside from protecting Shen, there was another reason he believed it was best to use the Phoenixes to give chase. There was more than one way to achieve peace, and that was by eliminating the other side. The fastest way to achieve that was through the death of a King. He couldn't afford to leave Shen alone because of that, but it went both ways. If they struck down Lyric, the war would end before it could truly start. Even if the Phoenixes rallied and continued to fight after losing their commander, Lyric's death would buy the Dragons time and weaken the enemy forces.

It was something he hoped wouldn't be necessary. He wanted the theories to be true and discover that what happened here was not as simple as it may have appeared. However, if Shen confirmed that this was his will, he'd see this through to the end. His personal feelings were irrelevant. He was a Dragon, and he'd do what was necessary to secure peace and order. For the sake of creating a place where people could be safe in a city as terrible as this one.

"We're in. Lead the way." After answering, he used his Potential to reach out to Kanna, still able to send his whispers through the previously created layer.

FabulousTrash FabulousTrash
"The Kings are heading deeper into Central. The situation is complicated, but there may be something wrong with them. Sleeping Giant and I are going to pursue them with two of the Phoenixes. If you can, try to use the chaos to lead a retreat. If you use your Potential, you'll be able to float up and break through the shadows around here. Your presence is hidden right now, so you won't be seen or heard."

The Dragons were outnumbered at the moment, and they were at a heavy disadvantage in the dark. Falling back seemed like their best option, and if they were going to do it, now was the best time. The voice of the Phoenix named "Vulkie" boomed, calling for a stop to the fighting. While the southern side dealt with what appeared to be a case of infighting, Kanna and the others would have an easier time escaping.

"But if you choose to stay, I trust your judgment. I'll keep a low, repetitive tick playing for you. If it stops, it means we've left the district or something else has gone wrong. If you need the illusions on you canceled or adjusted, try to message me and I'll do what I can." He realized this was a lot to drop on her, but he trusted the Jack could handle this and make the right decisions. "Be safe."

After ending his message to Kanna, he then focused on Meirin. "I'm hoping this won't come down to a fight, but be prepared to strike at a moment's notice. We're putting ourselves in a dangerous position." He didn't think she would falter if things took a turn for the worse, but he wanted to be sure they were on the same page. It wasn't like the Phoenixes were the only danger either.

Meirin sighed as she walked to the Phoenix car following Yong Yut’s voice, but nodded. Fade really was hard of trust. While she could travel greater distances in her larger form, Meirin didn’t like walking as a giant when she couldn’t see her feet–least of all in a large crowd of intermingling fighters. It was hard enough not accidentally stepping on tiny people even when she could see so a car worked just fine.

"If something really is wrong with our Kings, are you prepared to stand against them?" He posed the question to all three of them as he followed the voices ahead. If Shen and Lyric weren't in their right minds, there was a very real possibility that they'd turn on anyone who got too close or stood in the way of their fight.

The old man nursed the handle of the knife between his fingers and put it back into the pocket as it appeared that they were in on the plan. Kaede fumbled forward while he traced Yong-Yut's voice carefully through the air until hand brushed against fabric and he clenched down. Mindful not to dirty it more than necessary in the grip of it in his non-injured palm that climbed horizontally.

The fabric eventually unraveled in a handle and he shifted his weight onto it. The question that was aimed at his back was a damning one. Were they prepared to go against the Kings? The metal pressed cooly into callouses as he gauged the intentions behind it. The man peered back at the dragon that had remained visible throughout the ordeal.

"Are you?" He quirked a brow.

"I'm hoping we don't have to find out."

“It’s not standing against them. It’s helping them. At least that’s how I see it…assuming something happened to them that is. And yeah, I’m prepared to help the King. That’s why I came here.”


“We can think of it as… the world’s deadliest intervention.”

Isaiah wasn't sure if they understood the true meaning of his question, but at the very least, all of them seemed prepared.

The rattled figures filed into the car one by one, Yong-Yut taking charge at the wheel and the dragon woman as a navigator beside her. The backseat buckled under Kaede's weight in the one-handed crawl to the far end and he settled down with a huff while the door slammed shut behind his fellow suit wearer. The curled fist that rested in his pocket was starting to spot through the textile in a murky red stain that inched away at the navy. Kaede craned his neck over the backrest "If you reverse around 30 meters you will hit a bump. It is the sidewalk to the main road".

"Should I check?" The dark gaze flitted up to the rearview window.

“Check what you need, but step on it please.” Meirin didn’t know what potential the old man had, but he really didn’t look like he was in good enough health to be using it. “The kings are fuckin’ fast.”

“Right. I got it. Thank you.”

Pressing her foot into the gas pedal, Yong-Yut reversed onto the road before speeding off. In only a few seconds, the sky cleared of the darkness, the white clouds now visible. More importantly, far off into the distance, the Kings could be seen.

With a glance to the mirror above her, the phone she carried was ejected from her pocket and landed on the balding man’s lap. “Please text Vulken about our whereabouts,” she requested, “he’s under Kenny in my contacts.”

Checking didn’t seem necessary after all. Yong-Yut pulled them out of the tight spot with ease, screeching tires the starting sound for the race towards the Kings. The old man pulled the seatbelt taut- the dragons that had been crammed into the car were already two dangers too much and Kaede sure wasn't gonna add another risk onto it. His pale face reflected in the window for a few passing panorama shots of the city before a blur in the corner of his eye alerted him.

He flinched in twofold, once at the phone that landed in his lap and then one additional time when the familiar name crossed Yong-Yut's lips- Kaede relented with a grunt. The hand that was slick with blood surfaced from the pocket and he started to tap away at the phone:

Going after Kings. Placement: Deeper into central. Present: Yong-Yut.

He hesitated for a breath before he added ‘Kaede’ to the text as well. “Done.” Kaede wiped the phone off on his pants with a newly made furrow that leapt between brows. Were they gonna die? Probably. Was this stupid? More than probably.

HONK! HONK! HOOOOOOOONK!!! HONK! HONK! HONK!HONK! HONK! HOOOOOOOOOOOONK!!!

One hand gripping the car’s grab handle, Merin had reached over to repeatedly pressed the car’s horn as Yong Yut smoothly reversed in the dark. She didn’t stop until they cleared the darkness. Not safe driving in the least, doing so without visibility that is, but emergency situations called for emergency action…and they’d at least warned pedestrians of the incoming vehicle in the dark so that those who heard the honks, who had common sense, would dive out of the way. She ignored the cursing of gangsters as they breached the veil of darkness and exited the battle area .

“No splattered guts. No crashing into anything. Excellent driving!” Meirin gave Yong Yut a thumbs up. Even more impressive was how calm the Phoenix had been while driving in the dark…granted only certain HPs would be severely injured if rammed by a car…but not all HPs were built the same. Mr. Wildschwein would be proud.

She locked her eyes onto the tiny kings in the sky as the vehicle sped the main street, prepped to honk more cars out of the way as necessary. “Keep up the pace if you can. I know Central is police turf, but fortunately they seem slower than usual today.”

Gang wars of a massive scale were typically broken up by the police once news got around, especially if they occurred in Central, but, then again, it wasn’t as if Meirin expected much from the cops. If she wanted something done, she did it herself. She turned the radio on to the New Oasis Central News Station.

"Once we're close enough, try to keep some distance from the fight until we have a plan. It'll be bad if we get caught in the Dragon King's Potential while we're in this car." As Isaiah cautioned the others, he turned to the Phoenix next to him, eyeing the man's wound.

Removing a small first aid kit from his inner coat pocket, he examined the cut on Momo's hand. Despite all the blood, it didn't look like a serious injury. If they were fortunate, that would be the only one they had to deal with today.

After retrieving bandages and an antiseptic wipe, he held out his gloved hand, gesturing for the Phoenix to inch closer as he met the man's gaze. "Let's take care of that while we can. There probably won't be any more chances." Dragons and Phoenixes were enemies, but for now, they were allies. And he had to make sure his allies were taken care of.

The old man dragged his hawkish gaze between the outstretched hand and the first aid kit. It wasn't an urgent wound and not even something that would affect her personally. But there the dragon was, extending his help. He eyed the red slit in his hand and then shifted forward, slightly uneased by the prospect of skin-to-skin contact that showed in his stilted movements. Kaede lent the man his hand and turned it to face him palm up.

The wide forehead that hovered above it sparked irritation in his throat to take root and branch out towards a lopsided quirk of lips. He cleared his throat and quickly schooled his expression once more to aim a peeling glance at the dragon. There was something...familiar about him. Something that Kaede couldn't pinpoint in either appearance or mannerisms. Perhaps it was a trick of the eye, the same eyes that probed at the features while trying out the waters of his memories.

He trailed down the slope that separated blue astute eyes in a slim nose bridge and that fanned out in a monotone expression below.

No matter, it was probably just someone she had met on the street before. Someone who couldn't pose a danger to her identity. Someone who had a forehead that could rival her own in globe-like properties.

“Shen wouldn’t hurt us if he were of sound mind…but yeah, good idea.”
 
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COLLAB - FLIGHT OF THE RAVEN
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Peyton, Kisara, Shinko, Damian, Kinsley, Kyo, etc.
THICKER THAN WATER

The show must go on. Such was Romero's philosophy—from adolescence to death. Even now, faced against the most formidable of foes, it was up to him to write the end of this tale…

The Raven squawked a booming caw into the air, and moved. Like a charging gorilla, it trudged towards the trio with erratic movement. Each limb dug into the concrete floor; a hand ripped up chunks of debris, flinging it at them as it neared.

The pink-haired demon let out a guttural snarl, springing from the floor, leaping over the scattered detritus, landing back on all fours, the violet blaze leaking out from between her jagged teeth in sparking fury.

A torrent of wind erupted beneath August, catapulting him into the air and out of rubble’s way.

Blindly, the Raven swung at the center of the three. Its talon cut clean through the floor, leaving a scratch-shaped crater.

The impact sent Kisara careening through the air. Still, still, the static ran between her ears. She must destroy, she must kill, she must erase this obstacle from existence. Her head snapped towards the Raven, a defiant glare shooting straight at the creature, before she slammed into the wall. She arched back, then dug her fingers into the cement, affixing herself to the wall.

Peyton also got thrown in the air, and he broke his flight by careening into a pile of crates and carts. The pieces of metal bit into Peyton’s body, bruising him painfully. But he had no time to consider the pain. He lithely threw himself back on his feet. The teal-clad Serpent was counting on him to strike a blow to the Raven, and he had to be in position for it.

Like a charging bull recovering from a missed charge, the Raven skidded on its limbs as it glanced at least once to each individual. Its gaze settled on what it deemed to be the biggest threat at the moment: Kisara. Recalling how her laser tore through the previous monster, it was no wonder…

The Raven squawked a bellowing call akin to a roar. Then it stretched its wings out, flapping once, then twice, and picking up speed. The gigantic beast carried into the air, sending blasts of air from its wings. And, arching back, it tore through the air on a collision course with Kisara’s spot on the wall—its long beak poised ahead like a lance.

August hit the ground with a little more force, and a little more panic than intended, barrel-rolling before kicking off into a sprint, wearing the exertion on his face in the form of a focused grimace. It was the most effort he’d put into anything this week. Burst after burst of wind underfoot, he covered substantial ground, keeping up with the frenzied beast that held only an eye for Kisara.

That just meant he had an opening.

The beast was huge, so if he missed here and now, then the universe truly had it out for him.

Teal-blue eyes studied, in what short time they had, the anatomy of the bird, trying to gauge Romero’s position within its colossal frame. He ran in its shadow, gaining ahead, then skidded to a halt and whirled around on its overhead approach.

First a whisper, then a roar, the cyclone erupted.

August was then met with the back end of a wing, just barely swiping his head as the cyclone pushed the Raven upward. The impact threw him across the warehouse, just as the Raven itself struck a pallet rack on the other end. For the moment, it was stunned…

Peyton desperately grabbed onto the frame of the gigantic pallet racks that occupied the warehouse as he slowly pushed through the billowing winds. If not for the heavy metal shelves, Peyton definitely would’ve been blown away. But instead, he could slowly force his way forward to Romero, his teeth gritted.

He had to be close enough to deal the blow. Otherwise, Peyton had a feeling that the feathers would reform the shield like when he had tried to take on the monster by himself.

The cracks on the wall lengthened, stretching further across its surface as Kisara tightened her grip. Another guttural growl seeped out from between the razor sharp fangs, as her muscles pulled taut, a predator ready to pounce. Her viridian eyes gleamed in the shadows, and she pushed forwards with all of the might in her body, launching herself forwards like a bullet from a barrel. The wall splintered and cracked in her wake, the air seemed to shatter as she hurtled towards her prey.

Her body slammed into the Raven, the impact shaking even her to her bones. She did not feel it. Instead, her teeth and her nails dug into the Raven, latching on. The violet charge that lit her horns and her armored extremities burned bright with searing intensity.

Meanwhile, August’s body was flung through the air with a ragdoll-like performance before the back of his skull cracked on impact with the wall; every bone in his body wracked with pain. And he descended towards the ground where, just barely, a weak manifestation of wind beneath him cushioned his landing.

He managed to sit himself up against the wall where he held his head. A fierce ringing stole away the surrounding clamor. Concussion stole away his awareness, and he forgot where he was; what was happening. When it returned to him, it didn’t actually. Everything was a blur, distorted. The noise, garbled and unclear and distant sounding as the ringing heightened and dulled in intervals marked by every shaky exhale. He, at least, remembered the threat.

August stood but didn’t realize it, and when he stepped he collapsed to a knee.

The Raven now stuck to the wall, sandwiched between it and the Prinz Gyoushi—the impact seemed to freeze the monster for a better amount of time. Its feathered carapace tore into shreds, bursted by August’s cyclone and now Kisara’s relentless clawing. With each of her attacks, a voice inside of it became louder and louder…

He knew what was to come… He heard the charges of power; the very same that annihilated the Monster of the West, now aimed at him. Weakened on all fronts, surrounded by those thirsting for blood… He knew full well what awaited him beyond the veil of power he was mercifully granted. As quoted from the captain Ahab, defiant but aware of his fate, he proclaimed…

FROM HELL’S HEART I STAB AT THEE!

Kisara finally ripped into the empty space of the Raven’s torso. In the next instant, a smaller appendaged talon shot from within—its claw punctured through her stomach, just as she had the Raven. Blood spat out from between her lips, followed by trickles of steam as what had remained evaporated from the energy that pooled in her body. Puddles of red mixed with the Raven’s slop of blackness. Standing on its limb, grabbing Kisara’s face as though Shakespeare would the skull, Romero stared into her eyes with an ear-to-ear grin.

And now his stubborn challenger will reside in the depths of the inferno.

Inside the Raven’s body were chalk-white scribbles along the spherical walls—detailed writing. The beast itself remained indefinitely still with only one exception: its left arm raising to swipe Kisara’s head clean off.

August watched the violent battle between Kisara and Raven through a blurred veil, inching forward with staggering steps, over bodies limp and debris scattered. Still the ringing persisted in his ears, and the world swayed, but his mind was back… Mostly.

He commanded, voicelessly, his winds to obey him, but they responded poorly. He flexed his fingers at his sides—swirling wisps raced just beneath his palms, then desisted quicker than they’d come. Shit. He winced, nearly tripping over a uniform-clad corpse what’s arms were bent and twisted in unimaginable ways.

Pushing, still urging his potential, he fought forward until he thought—he hoped—he was close enough to do it. Then he raised both of his arms, holding his hands up at the Raven in a stopping gesture from about fifteen feet.

August commanded, again, his winds to obey, but this time they revolted; backfired. His own winds shoved him back, but he urgently recovered his balance and tried again. Arms up. Bracing himself. The Raven’s left was lifted.

Three, two, one…

A lance of frenzied, drilling wind exploded forth at incredible speed—smaller than the previous cyclone; this one was more slender and only thinned as it furthered from its wielder—and it stretched for the Raven’s arm, reaching to drive its point straight through, to grind feathers and flesh like does a blender. And as it did, August seemed to stand his ground. Beneath the raised heel of his foot, a cyclone small enough to hold reinforced his position, keeping him in place.

… It merely grazed the arm, brushing it a few inches to the side as it fell. Anyone looking would have expected it to strike Kisara… yet it didn’t. Romero watched in horror as a long-limbed woman of pale skin and sickly attire stretched by her lergs from the rafters to the Raven. One of her arms, twisted in all manners that it should not have been and possibly just as long as her legs, snatched at the Raven’s arm, grabbing its talon with writhing fingers. August’s last ditch effort had just barely pushed the arm into Taka’s reach…

Her other arm shot forth, striking below the Raven’s talon. A loud snap echoed through the warehouse. “No…” Romero uttered. The Takaonna paraded the detached arm around for a few seconds, then letting it fall pathetically to the ground.

Meanwhile, Peyton bolted forward, using the momentum that August, Taka, and Kisara provided to charge through the thicket of the cyclone. His yellow eyes glowed with bloodlust with no thought spared towards the injured Kisara and the concussed August. For now, he was determined to snuff out Romero’s life.

This is the part where the story ends with the bad guys winning!” Peyton snarled with glee, “The heroes die out and their ambitions never come to fruition! That is your ‘happily ever after!’

With that, Peyton slashed down into the exposed cavity of the Raven, right at the squishy mass that was Romero.

Normal, red blood splattered into the air. Romero stumbled backward with a dry gasp, falling into the Raven’s chest cavity. This wasn’t right… He was meant to be the one left standing. This ending was all wrong! Full of unsatisfying literary decisions! A glorious ending would be… one like the ever-glowing light of electricity forming outside: the last thing in the climactic battle for the protagonist to see…

A piercing screech, like steel grinding across asphalt, emanated from Kisara's mouth. At this range, from this position, with a clear sight of her target, even in her blurring eyesight, she could hit it. The glare of the white-hot light that channeled through the warped sections of her body burned, the gaping wound in her gut felt like a spear run through her, but she was blind to it all.

At long last, she released the overcharged fury that she had been holding onto. A thin, violet beam shot forth from her open mouth, streaking through the air, the pressure shifting as it shattered barriers of speed, straight into her target within the monster. The beam struck square at Romero's chest.

For a split second, all went still, the air frozen. And then the energy dispersed from its mark, a violent explosion of bright, iridescent indigo erupted from the collective Serpents' target.

Thus came the life and loss of Romero—a man whose passion won him all, yet amounted to none—as he and the Raven were torn into a vapid nothing.

The End.

Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Coyote Hart Coyote Hart simj26 simj26
 
Jennifer Weber
SCENE:
Heist
LOCATION:
Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Jennifer, Maria, Ryutaro, Samira, Sylvie
Heist

Jennifer remained behind cover as the bay erupted into a frenzy. Bullets rang out as did the wails and cries of those in their flight path. Jennifer remained focused though, waiting for someone, some guard or worker to turn the tides with potential but it seemed her waiting was for nought. The bay guards were dropping like flies and the chaos was in the tigers favour. Looking at her handgun Jennifer took a deep breath "One shot left in the chamber, looks like I need a new gun".

Swinging wide as she reemerged from behind the pallet bay, Jennifer grabbed an approaching guard by the collar. Pushing his barrel toward the floor and the man himself back up against the pallet stack itself. Pressing her knees to the shotgun to keep it aimed downward, Jennifer freed up her hand. Aiming her pistol upward then Jennifer took her shot, her bullet entering just under the chin and exiting well it had exited somewhere in the mess that was formerly the back of his skull. Holstering her pistol, Jennifer took the man's shotgun and gave a quick count of the ammo loaded "Five, steel slugs".

Raising the pump shotgun Jennifer's eyes began to glow a faint red, her expression faded and in a matter of but a few split seconds another three of the guards had found their heads partially removed. The shotgun itself rang out above all the other firearms and the rapid firing made it sound like thunder had come to rest within the bay. Swinging her focus toward one of the vans, Jennifer took another two shots, killing another two of the workers. Workers who had taken it upon themselves to try and make a run for the armoured sanctuary it was. Slinging the empty weapon over her shoulder Jennifer moved for the closest guard body she could find. Grabbing the pistol it had been safeguarding, Jen turned again and began unloading her shots into the terrified workers, not wasting a single round. When all was said and done she had dropped four guards and at least ten workers. If anyone were to inspect those killed they would find each had been killed with a headshot and not a single shot had missed.

Tossing the pistol aside Jennifer stepped over the body and made her way toward the security nest as instructed, her eyes returning to a normal hue "We don't have all day, let's get this over with". And with that, she disappeared from the bay behind the heavy security door to await her companions.

Beann Beann joshuadim joshuadim Roda the Red Roda the Red WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Shoya Shoya
 
KYODEN
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Damian, Kinsley, Kisara, Kyo, Peyton, Raph, Sab, Shinko
THICKER THAN WATER
Through the chaos and the fighting, Kyoden reached Caio at last... Though he had never managed to recover his sword... Oh, well! He figured it'd turn up in his possession again eventually. Not that it really mattered in the moment, anyway. After all, his sword wasn't why they were all here, why he was here. And, well. About that... Kyoden shook his head as he felt the Queen's watchful eye upon him.

FiyLPMP.png
"You good?" Caio asked.

Kyoden nodded.

The two men stood there a moment. They shared an inscrutable look as their fellow Serpents carried out Caio's bloody directive. It was quite a sight. Bodies and parts of bodies littered the floor and the walls. The blood pools in places were ankle-deep at least. Kyoden watched as Caio surveyed the carnage with a satisfied, almost proud, expression, and did not know what to make of it. Luckily he wasn't left to ponder it for long, as the rest of their motley crew filed in, looking more or less like—

"You all look like shit. Took you long enough. Now let's go," Caio ordered before taking the lead down the dark corridor before him.

The Queen had not gotten a few paces before the scene began to shift. Kyoden's brow furrowed as the ceiling above, and the walls and floors themselves began to move around and through the group of Serpents, melting and solidifying, taking on new shapes and new positions. Caio turned abruptly, stern eyes surveying first his morphing surrounds, then the man who stood before him as everything settled into place.

When at last the dust settled and the world was once again still, the Serpents came face to face with their new environment. A twinned pair of paneled walls stretched along either side of a long hall leading ahead. In one corridor stood Kinsley, Damian, and Sabrina.

In another place, Peyton, Kisara, and August stared down a similar hall, with Takaonna's sinuous body scrunched up in a backmost corner of the recently manifested structure, as if she'd been attempting an escape. But there was only one direction to go in: forward.

 
Noa Bakoria Aquanaut
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 1 [Follow the Lightning]
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Follow the Lightning

After Noa had their clothes changed, she had her bodyguard drive her to the location of Hyperstar, their bodyguard was luckily kind enough to brief them on the Suzu situation, but all Noa could do was hope that she was doing ok. But she didn't concern herself too much about it, and instead opted to just play with her otters in the back of the Limo till they reached their destination. Which didn't take long at all as when they pulled up close to Hyperstar, there was a modest sized crowd staring at the trashed club but soon kept walking after being goaded by what she assumed to be the owner. Noa was a bit stunned by the scene but their bodyguard didn't hesitate, and had exited the car in order to open the door for her. Noa reluctantly left her otters once again, to leave the vehicle, their bodyguard closing the door behind them in order to make sure the otters wouldn't wander out. After a bit of waiting and leaning against their limo, Ryoma finally made their appearance and Noa soon joined him with their bodyguard in tow, Ryomas comment about the Tigers made her roll her eyes. "Ugh, let's just deal with this, mess." she said pointing towards the Hyperstar club that wasn't looking to be in the best shape.

As they made their approach the, what she assumed to be club owner, greeting them though Noa did raise a eyebrown when they referred to them as friends, unsure of what to think of him as of yet. He didn't seem dangerous and looked like he could pass as a NP, though her mannerism remained neutral as a of now, since she didn't know if the man was indeed a friend or foe. Instead she let Ryoma do the talking for now, listening as he gave Vague questions to the man, though Noa still wanted to know just who exactly this man was as well so she opted to ask a few more questions aimed more specifically at him, to get just a vague idea of who and what was going on. "Yeah, that, i'm assuming your this clubs, owner? What is your name? and do you have any idea who may of exactly done this? I'm guessing someone with a grudge against you?"
 
Callista Reinhart
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
1st Floor, CDPD-HQ, Upper Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Ashley, Boltius, Eric, Gideon, Inigo, Tatsuya, Dyne
Tactical Mayhem
“...So you’ve come out to play.”

The golden-haired damsel wore a cheerful smile on her face, heels click-clacking against the concrete floor as she strutted down the hallway. She looked forward to meeting her self-proclaimed adversary, though truthfully, she was happier about the fact that her rival was not as beautiful as she’d expected. Choppy black hair, dull complexion, plain features. How disappointing.

“She’s as plain-looking as her butterflies. It’s true what they say… pets tend to look a lot like their masters,” Callista chuckled as she turned the corner that would lead her to the lab. She felt silly for worrying in the first place. It was as clear as day that she was superior in every manner. The stranger’s potential was still unknown to her, but that was the least of her concerns. In a woman’s world, it didn’t matter who was stronger, it only mattered who was more beautiful.

The young lady was so engrossed in her own matters—gloating like a child and playing out in her mind how the confrontation would go—that she’d failed to notice when the officers began to surround the building. By the time she thought to survey the area through her mind’s eye, droves of officers were already marching into the building, armed with weapons that looked like they could really hurt. It was too late. She stopped in her tracks, and the butterflies that once perched idly began to flutter about frantically, looking for the best escape route.

The cops had the worst timing, Callista was just about to have her share of the fun. “Fate is so cruel for getting in the way of our first meeting… Farewell, dear.” She whispered with a frown, and simultaneously a loud explosion was heard coming from the lab room. The butterfly in her rival’s palm had exploded. Dead or alive, she did not care to know.

Callista turned back the way she came. All possible exits swarmed with officers, like ants filing in to look for dessert. She ignored the few Phoenixes she crossed paths with, pretending not to know them. Her only way out was to ally herself with a powerful Phoenix, not mere fodders. Callista had to get to the second floor.

Before she could ease a step further along the path, a thunderous voice pierced through the air, freezing her into place. “HANDS UP! TURN AROUND AND KEEP YOUR HANDS UP!” Her hands slowly rose to the air as images continued to shift in her mind’s eye, searching for a way out. She didn't have time to think of something more clever as the cops approached, so she did what she did best. Pretend.

The blonde girl turned around wistfully, dramatically, eyes brimming with tears. She spoke to the lead cop in between fitful sobs, wiping away fake tears from her rosy cheeks. "O-Officer…!" Callista cried out with trembling hands. "I-I lost my younger s-s-sister after the fire alarms r-rang...” Her voice quivered, as if all hope had been lost. She was never going to find her sister again. Maybe her sister was dead. “I can't find her anywhere! I-I-I've looked everywhere and I—” She wept, her legs threatening to give out. Oh, what was she going to do? Poor sister must be dead in a ditch.

She boldly launched herself forward in between the cops, crying hysterically, before clutching an officer's arm. "P-Please... you have to help me find her!" She yelled out desperately, looking up at the officer with her doe-like eyes. Tears continued to stream down her face like waterfall. Surely, only a cruel man would turn away a beautiful woman in tears. And if there was one thing Callista Reinhart was perfectly good at, it was playing the part of a damsel in distress.

ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ
In the break room where Gideon was caught up in a mess of his own, several more butterflies entered the room and began to flutter above Gideon and a certain Gregory Gallons. They flied about harmlessly, catching the eye of the Phoenix, before flying away and spreading out, perching themselves on different corners of the room. Callista hoped that Gideon would understand the message.

Give the signal and they go boom.

Interactions: NPC (Brandy) | NPC (???)
Mentions: Gideon and Gregory Gallons
Lucem Lucem Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean simj26 simj26 Roda the Red Roda the Red Damafaud Damafaud Coyote Hart Coyote Hart Nobody Special Nobody Special

 
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Ezra Knight
CS Link
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 1 [Where Giants Sleep]
LOCATION:
Heavenly Beast Plaza, Lower Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Elias, Isobel, Kenji, Passeri, Wren
WHERE GIANTS SLEEP
Ezra listened carefully, taking everything in as he stuck close to his stone cover. He didn't move an inch, remaining completely still as he didn't even dare to take a single breath. He acted as a perfect statue, but it was far from intentional. This wasn't just him trying to remain stealthy. He simply couldn't move. Couldn't even think about it.

From the moment he saw one of the robed cultists take a knife to their own neck, he had been frozen in place. The words in his ears fought to be heard, losing a battle to a sharp ringing sound that continued to grow louder as the seconds went by. It pierced his brain, forcing him to move again, if only slightly.

He shivered, but not because of the soaked clothes sticking to his pale skin. His blood ran cold, feeling like ice in his veins. And yet, somehow, he was warm. Too warm. The heat was unbearable. He needed air. No matter how hard his lungs worked and his chest pumped, it wasn't enough to bring him relief.

He kept listening, but there were too many sounds. They all fought for dominance, begging for attention. The whispers, the ringing, the pained voices, and the booming beat of his own heart just kept going. It made it even harder to process what was happening.

The others were surrounded. They were threatened by an unimaginable hazard that was far beyond what they had signed up for. And he was down here, not even sure if he truly existed. Something had gone terribly wrong after he saw that person die, and the foreboding feeling only worsened as he thought about what would happen to the Tigers above.

His mind was empty but chaotic. He was freezing, but the intense heat forced him to break a sweat. He was breathing so much, yet he couldn't get a scrap of air. All those contradicting sensations came together before being overpowered by a familiar jolt of electricity running through up spine. It reached his brain, and suddenly, that wave of emotion he was drowning in vanished, as if it had never been there.

Ezra let out one last breath, sighing to himself as he leaned against the stone pillar. Once again, it seemed as though the Jack had gotten him roped into a nasty predicament. This time, it was a bunch of nonsense involving a cult and their clandestine endeavors. He acknowledged that the situation was just as dangerous as it was ludicrous, but there was no concern evident on his face. There were just the early signs of a smirk.

In the end, it didn't really matter what kind of trouble they were plagued with. His role was still the same. As always, it was up to him to pull people away from the looming hand of death. Honestly, he was starting to get a little tired of it, but he couldn't afford to slack off. A job was a job, and he had to get it done, especially when there was promise of great reward. Assuming he made it back to the surface in one piece, he would be sure to receive proper compensation for his efforts this time.

He reached for the notepad in his jacket, and within moments, the damp sheets of paper became usable once again. He tore three small strips before putting it back. Hopefully, the homeowners would be too busy giving their grand speech to notice what he planned to do.

After he activated his Potential, the torn sheets flew into the air, making their way to the trio on the upper floor. Wanting to wait long enough to give them a chance to pick up on what was going on, he turned his attention to Wren and Kenji as he put away the notepad. It was a good idea to make sure they were on the same page before things fully kicked off.

"I'm going to try pulling the other members of our little spelunking team away from the lunatics above us. I can only see one exit, so I'll be aiming for that. If you'd like to join me, just hold on to those papers of yours. Of course, if you'd prefer to try your luck with the ocean, I won't stand in your way."

After extending the offer, he fully unbuttoned his jacket, and he immediately felt a cool breeze brush against his chest. He revealed a series of holsters, each spread across both sides of the garment. The ones on the left all had the same contents, holding a single piece of forged metal identical to the one that was now in his hand. It seemed to fit just perfectly with the bladeless hilt in his other hand.

"Well, I'll be going then. I'll do my best not to end up as a sacrifice for this parade of freaks. I hope you two will do the same."

Without sparing the duo a second glance, he aimed the metal at the large door above him and gave it a good toss. As soon as it left his hand, he used his Potential once again, channeling it into the hilt in his right hand. Then he flew, following the path of his weapon's other half.

As he soared through the air, he moved to the next part of the plan, using his ability to restore his notepad and pull in the missing pieces of paper. Hopefully, the others had picked up on his little hint and grabbed on to those scraps. If they hadn't, welll...that would be their problem.

Once the stone path was beneath his feet, he reversed the flow of his Potential's effect, pulling the blade to the hilt instead. He didn't allow the halves to connect with a satisfying snap, only letting them get close enough so he could have both in his possession again. Then he dropped, falling the rest of the way and landing in front of the door as he tried to shake off the sudden force.

He hoped the door would actually serve its purpose and provide an exit, but he only found disappointment when he attempted to push it open. The cultists were definitely crazy, but they apparently still had enough of their sanity to use locks. Not surprising, considering the little puzzle he and the others found on the dragon statue in the plaza. Not surprising, but definitely annoying.

Without knowing how the lock functioned, trying to use his Potential on the door could end up making the situation worse. It would also likely use up quite a bit of energy, and he was already starting to feel the effects of using his ability in rapid succession. This was unfortunate, but at the very least, he'd managed to create some distance between the cultists and his companions. The ones who were able to follow him, anyway.

Spinning on his heels, he turned to face the Jack, smirk still in place. "Well, it seems as though a hasty retreat will be trickier than I'd hoped. I guess that leaves us with few options then, doesn't it?"

His gaze then flitted to the fallen idol. He was no doctor, but it was easy to tell just by looking at her that the jewel of New Oasis was not in performing condition. He wasn't particularly concerned, not having any strong feelings for her as a person or as an entertainer. However, in a situation like this, having as many allies as possible was key to survival. And if they did all manage to make it out alive, having someone like her be in his debt would be a nice treat for his troubles.

Kneeling down, he placed a hand on Passeri's shoulder and began rewinding her body to a more presentable state. "I suppose one perk to being trapped underground is that there's no paparazzi. If the press or any overzealous fans saw me right now, it probably wouldn't turn out well." Touching a beloved idol so casually? How scandalous.

After finishing up, he stood straight and looked back at the masked masses. He joked, but there were actually quite a few overzealous fans already here. Although, they seemed to be more fond of their precious Sleeper than Iroi.

Once again, he turned his attention to Isobel, but he made sure to keep checking for any sudden moves made by the trick-or-treaters on the other side. "So, what's next? They said they won't harm us, but I don't imagine they'll keep that promise if we interfere with their little ritual. I think it goes beyond a simple reconnaissance mission, but I'd rather not let them do as they please. I'm against some entity and its minions meddling with the city. Laissez-faire and all that."

He then focused entirely on the cultists, eyeing their covered faces. "I'm also not fond of people in masks." He'd dealt with Henry, the drama club at the casino, and now a bunch of delusional worshippers. After all of that, he was starting to develop a bias.

"Or birds." He looked over the man that once took the form of a giant crow. First the Phoenixes, now this. Between the birds and the masks, there were too many coincidences. Maybe this Sleeper was responsible for his unending streak of bad luck.

Those last bits of information weren't really important in his decision-making process, but they did help stretch out the conversation. The extra time was needed at the moment, both for coming up with a plan and taking a breather. He needed the break, but he didn't want to let anyone see him even slightly out of sorts. A bit of charm and some snark helped solve that issue.




 
Julian Midgley
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Peyton, Kisara, and Takaonna
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
Ticking. He heard ticking through the darkness. It was a low and murmurous sound, one that refracted into water drops on a second listen. Drip. Drip. The rain droplets shed from the sky as the collective grief of earth. His head spun. Had it not always been water? Why did he think it was ticking at first? He didn't know. The cogs in his head slowed to a halt.

He...? Who was he?

The world blurred back into view at a knife's edge. Cold and cruel as it wrenched the air from his lungs in a sloshing twist. The muscles and nerves contracted around it in swirls of carnage and funnelled the gasp he nursed between parted lips into the humid night. "GhUH!" The exhale stuttered in the air in white vapour and a dim ceiling flickered into view behind it as it dispersed. He blinked, gawked at the lowered and materialised 'sky' above him that was not the atmosphere but concrete.

Solid and sullenly grey in a mirror image of the ground which he grated his hands against. It was damp and the moisture was picked up on the ridges of his palms in a light sheen. Ah, he looked down at the pool of water beside him when a raindrop hit him flat on the nose. The figure stirred and craned his neck to peer up at the broken pipe that spanned along the slate. It was not rain, but sewer water. The wetness taunted his throat that seared into existence below and he stuck his tongue out to soothe the sandpaper landscape.

Drops trickled to the back of his mouth in desperate swallows, animalistic in execution and pants. The figure was eventually sated and bottled it up with a wipe of his hand. It hovered in the air afterwards, then moved instinctively to clutch at his chest where the stab wound from earlier flared into remembrance. He lifted his shirt and stared at the place where the supposed hole should've been. The spot glared back in intact ribs and smooth skin in turn.

"Huh?" He traced his fingers over the bones that undulated in heaving underneath them. It was cold, like the water and the ground but moving nonetheless. Was he not...dead? He skimmed his surroundings, a drab and empty room that was more akin to a prison cell. Or was he dead, and this was just the afterlife? The figure crawled onto his knees and pulled himself up on his feet. Stumbled under the influence of melatonin which kept his body drowsy. What a dull afterlife it was in that case.



It was then he saw it or rather- stepped on it. A soft mass of mangled flesh that had spilt out on the floor in guts. "Oh." He exhaled softly at the discovery "-Oops".

The figure crouched down to poke at the body when he found something interesting in the torn pocket of the pants. The shard shimmered in his grasp, a flash of the ceiling reflected on its surface before it angled down to show a face- his face. It was a pale one that was more like a sunspot on the iris than cohesive lines. Blonde eyelashes blotting out in matching tangled strands and arctic eyes. It was him, Julian.

The memories racked through his body in shakes- the guards, the torture and the other prisoners. "Prisoners?" He echoed his thought out loud. He dragged his gaze from the mirror down to the body that he was squatting over. Right. His finger reached out to hinge one of the guts on it. A familiar gnawing ache surfaced in his stomach. The kind of ache that scraped one's insides into hollows.

His mouth started to water at the sloppy hose that wiggled in the air until it shed something onto the floor. The arctic blue eyes flashed and the plaything dropped with a splat. Julian cupped the white speck that had been birthed in his hands.

His face ripped up in a glowing smile at the maggot "Excellent timing friend! You're coming with me".


There were more bodies outside the cell which, speaking of, he had only known to be a cell because the man had told him that. The man that the body had belonged to, that was. Yes, Julian remembered now that they had been captives together. Something...hit on the head...something...the man thought they were gonna be killed. Well. He had been correct on one point. A dull pang rang through his head from the sore spot at the back of it. The blonde rubbed it gingerly. Maybe two points, he added. Another revelation revealed itself to him as he paced through the corridors.

He remembered a hand, gently patting his hair down over the spot while the other held a cotton ball. The man had called himself a "doctor" and explained that they were "prisoners". Of whom he didn't mention. His brows furrowed in a thoughtful look. "Where did he get the cotton ball from?" His voice trailed out in a low hum as he pondered over the mystery. Oh well, doesn't matter now. He couldn't eat the cotton ball anyway the man had said.

The pitter-patter of bare feet stopped short in front of the next curve in the corridor. A murmur of voices resounded from the other end of it and footsteps too. He peeked out. More prisoners or...more guards? A sudden force hit his back and propelled him out of his hiding spot. The blonde stumbled into view for the group in his tattered prison garbs. "Uh. Oh. Hello?" A knife suddenly slid up against his throat in between the stammers along with a man he hadn't noticed before.

"Drop whatever weapons you have you freaks or else I'll kill him!" The guard barked and snapped his jaws next to his cheek. Splatters of saliva struck it and Julian raised his hands in the air. "Please don't do that, I just came back from the dead-" The knife cupped his adam's apple with the blade "Uhhhh-". Julian whipped his gaze to the strangers and the words chimed from his throat in a shrill plea against the pressure "If you save me I'll tell you something you don't know! Something important! Ugh-".


@ im too lazy to add the tags bcs i don't know who owns what characters
 
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COLLAB WITH ROSE

COLLAB — RUTHE & SILVA
SCENE:
Dragons Arc 3: Scene 2 [Hunting Filth]
LOCATION:
Lab Icarus, North District — Hallway south of Loading Bay
PARTICIPANTS:
Silva, Laura, Ruriko, Schroeder, Jiak (NPC)
Filth in the Gutter
Creeping across her cheeks was the inkling of a devilish sneer as the woman suddenly appeared struck by the purest of ice, falling stale at first sight to Ruthe’s wicked stare. The poor damsel, stuck in a spider’s web as dangers began to contort to center from all sides. Though as effective as her gaze could render one senseless, Ruthe’s own passive perception shrunk to nearly match. There was nothing but a brief glint of silver that glimmered in the corner of her eye as one could only assume the second had become knowledgeable of her flank.

As quick as an asp, she severed her stare with the mare before she rose glinting amethyst talons to slide between her and the cyborg’s assail. A heavenly ring of clashing metal shook the drums of her ears as Ruthe twirled in a delicate sidestep to catch the next.

Silva’s steel swung for Ruthe—the perfect arch; precise as two-and-two equals four.

And such a gorgeously deadly crescent it was. Eyes of swirling ebony narrowed upon its nearing danger, though somehow she found solace. A sinuous whisper seeding its way into her conscious, ever so diligently laxing fabric by fabric of her concern, to almost- desire what deathly proved imminent. Though before time could grant a second more, the sanction had already been made as Ruthe felt cold silver carve through her skin like warm butter, leaving a rather painful purchase of sundered flesh that instantly began to seep free its crimson ichor as a barbed hiss rose into the air among her stagger.

It was the pain that forced an outcry to rupture from the back of her lungs, though the lingering sting and surge of adrenaline freed a convulsed chuckle to ooze from the pit of her throat. Her cohort then promptly made the perfect stall as Ruthe’s bloodshot eyes watched as Yuto dropped onto the dragon’s shoulders from above, permitting no better window.

Swaying backwards by the presence of a new weight upon his shoulders, Silva stumbled for balance and control, feeling what he first suspected were daggers penetrating his jacket and finding flesh.

“GIVE. IT. TO. ME! NOW! MINE!” The voice came accompanied by disturbing giggles.

Elsewhere, a devastating thunder shook the building.

Tossing about, metal feet scratching and scraping and clicking on tile, Silva spat a variety of confused exclamations in his native tongue, wincing at the goring of his shoulders by his attacker’s claws.

He dropped one of his saber-blades and reached back over his head, fingers finding silky black tresses to latch onto, and he pulled, bending forward at the same time that his pixels found a gap between them and expanded into a solid ball to separate them. He yanked hard, trying to pluck the spider from his back, and felt success in the sudden lightness of his body again.

Closing the air between them in a breath, Rutheless drew her serrated talon along the back of Silva's knee, buckling the man’s stance in no such displeasing sight as her grin only cracked further across her face. Proving the woman’s lack of sanity as a crazed expression accompanied the plunge of her talons for the center of his chest.

Silva, too, showed brilliant ecstasy on his face; though, hidden behind his mask and goggles. No fear of the approaching peril as he fell to a knee, but even further… He sunk through the floor, pixels following, and proceeded to drop elsewhere through the ceiling in a less than graceful manner, clattering like silverware as laughter bubbled from within at the realization of what happened.

Sword drawn, spare hand clutching her saya, Ruriko came at Ruthe with a downward diagonal swing so practiced and clean, you’d have thought it showmanship. Her portals ceased then, but her offensive held sturdy.

The brilliant blade caught Ruthe off guard, she’d admit.. Quite the play the two made, quite the play indeed. “Maldita vergüenza….” The serpent scoffed as sparks flew awry the moment her talons made contact with hard concrete. Grinning not unlike a feline chasing a mouse, as if the violent skirmish stood as a game among the woman’s wicked mind.

Again, the shrill ring of resounding metal returned to Ruthe’s ears, unfaltering her movement as she rerouted the incoming saber down her claws, missing her by inches. Spinning upon a knee to arrive once more at a stand, Rutheless tilted her chin to the side with an avid glare of what one could possibly say arrogant. Though her stare slowly descended, and soon made their perch upon the tiny pair of fang prints blemishing Ruriko’s wrist. Then trailed back up to meet the girl’s vision..

“Count your moments, niña…” Ruthe mused. “Soon they'll be few and far between…” Ruthe mused.
SILVA/POST NOTES
— —What he's wearing: (Click) Leather aviator cap, mask, and green-tinted goggles; Open green jacket w/ open grey jacket underneath (no undershirt); Grey shorts; Fingerless gloves; No shoes because metal feet

— —Silva's hair is spray-dyed green this time around. Due to wearing his aviator cap, Silva's hair cannot currently be seen.

— —He smells harshly of chemicals from the spray-on hair-dye that he uses.

— —Pixels: No current constructs; Pixels floating around him

— —POST RECAP: Silva saves Ruriko. Ruriko saves Silva, then is bitten by one of Ruthe's mambas.

 
Elias Yumin
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 1 [Where Giants Sleep]
LOCATION:
Heavenly Beast Plaza, Lower Central(Beneath Dragon Statue)
PARTICIPANTS:
Wren, Elias, Kenji, Passeri, Isobel, Ezra
Where Giants Sleep

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three bullets fired from Elias’s gun before he was forced to move lest he be tackled, or diced, by the blades the masked government official presented. At the last second, Elias pivoted to the side, his free hand reaching out to snag the Bishop’s mask, ripping it from the man’s face and exposing skin before stepping back to gain distance from the scythes.

Bang! Bang!

Each step back was punctuated with a bullet meant to distract rather than maim, but if they managed to hit his opponent all the better.

Acquired skills. Memorized movements. Normal people took time and effort to learn the passable skills that belonged to others, but Elias’s potential made that quick and easy. Too easy. Hence one of the reasons life had become a little boring for the young heir of Yumin entertainment who’d paid his way into the Albino Tiger gang for the sheer thrill of it. He was a cheat. He had no reason not to be a cheat.

His current gunmanship was the acquired memories of one Zachariah Locke.

“Anamnesis,” Elias corrected with a genial smile, despite lifting up Bishop’s mask in a taunting manner. That was how he’d chosen to introduce himself to Araminta Grant, after all, despite knowing what she already knew. “When I am doing stuff like this, I like to be called Elijah Anamnesis, unless you have a preference for using our true names, Miss Grant. Mr. Minister.”

Bang! Bang!

“Would you like to make a deal with Elias Yumin? There’s no need to kill me and I don’t have to be an enemy if you don’t want me to be.”
Finding his way behind a pillar on the balcony, mostly to give himself space to talk, Elias took the chance to briefly glance at the battle below. The other Tigers seemed to be doing well enough, minus Park who’d just been shot a couple of times. While he could jump down to join them there was little reason to do so at this point. His eyes refocused on his current fight.

Bang!Bang!Bang!Bang!Bang! A couple of the ‘missed’ shots flew in the where he remembered gunshots (that weren’t his) sounded before the idol shielded herself. As the only Tiger on the balcony, he also had the unfortunate task of sweeping the balcony. At the very least, it'd give Passeri space to 'talk' with the priestess. Fights ended quicker when the leader was taken down.

“Tell me, is there anything either of you desire? Besides my death or innocent NPs, I mean.”



The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit Lucem Lucem @ @Saturn_moon @Kyuubey Stros Stros
 
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SAJEEM
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 1 [Follow the Lightning]
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Noa, Ryoma
FOLLOW THE LIGHTNING

"I am the owner, Sajeem, though probably not for much longer." the man replied to Noa as he looked longingly towards his trashed establishment with a deep frown. His oversized shades couldn't hide the fact that his eyes showed terror of losing his business. But his words came as confirmation for the Intruder's testimony about Hyperstar's owner's name. "Well if you're looking for someone, you aren't the first. Bunch of suited jackasses came over and asked me about one of my regulars, not even twenty minutes ago. Then they started throwing chairs and tables and wrecking everything when I told them I didn't know his name!"

"But I'm guessing you're looking for the same guy... right? Maroon suit, dirty, weird hair? Looks like he's from the past?"
Sajeem then asked, tilting his head. "You better not trash my place too, because I swear I don't know his name! Only that he brought a lot of cash for drinks often and was *addicted* to my karaoke machine."

The clamoring outside to observe the spectacle continued as murmurs and gazes fell on Hyperstar, which brought out an annoyed grumble from Sajeem again. "Ugh, I'd rather do this inside. Too many freeloaders out here." he said, waving for both Ryoma and Noa to follow inside. The scene within could only be described as semi-apocalyptic, as the place was thoroughly trashed as a result of the attackers. Tables were strewn about, chairs smashed, glass shattered across the ground. The bar in particular was thoroughly smashed up as its counters were vandalized and pretty much most of the alcohol had been smashed with their liquors staining the wood floors and counters nearby. The expensive stereo equipment for the karaoke were also destroyed, having been kicked in and stricken. The only thing that seemed to have survived was the lone, tacky disco ball that hung from the roof; it seemed almost like an insult to Sajeem to have left that just fine, given the area around it.

Sajeem took a moment to lean against the ruined bar counter and sighed as he looked to Ryoma. "I don't know where your pal is, okay? But last night he was... different."


Interacting: Ryoma ( Stros Stros ), Noa ( Peckinou Peckinou )
 
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Kiwi Dior Bonheur
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 4 [Puzzling Directions]
LOCATION:
Akira's Office, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Matsuda, Minato, Akira
Puzzling Directions
Kiwi smiled with pride when her joke landed, sitting up in her chair. When Akira bounced back the joke with an offer, she laughed with him. “Hell yeah, girl! Just the first step to takin’ over tha’ food delivery industry.”

She turned her attention to her laptop, reading whatever messages she had left unread. Nothing important, nothing important, nothing— she glanced at Akira, the comment about toys sparking her memory. “Fuck. That reminds me, I ain’t check on my guys in a while…”

She waved her hand around, shooing nothing, really, and leaned over her desk. With her face against the palm of her left hand, she blinked.


Zygarde was sitting back, watching Minaten each flip through the books. Nothing was in them besides words, and that became increasingly more apparent as each of them neared the end of their respective book. The dog waited for them to finish before standing up and placing his muzzle on the shelf.

Kiwi observed with a little confusion. She expected the buyer to be there, but he was nowhere to be seen— and the group was reading a bunch of books. What’d they bring them there for?

The question was answered by a ping— a notification from elsewhere.


She blinked back to where she physically was, lowering her free hand to switch tabs. A message was plastered near the bottom of the screen, reading, "when you don't know what to do, you should always try alphabetizing ❤️"

Tsking, Kiwi forwarded the message to Matsuda.

She looked back to her boss. With a sigh, she asked, “What’re ya gonna do if they don’t work it out?” While the question was posed to Akira, it almost felt like it was directed to herself.


Nobody Special Nobody Special Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
 
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TENEBROSITY
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 3 [The Filth in the Gutter]
LOCATION:
Lab Icarus, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
5 million bajillion people
The Filth in the Gutter
The storage room Ten walked in felt like a maze with the dim lighting and fuzzy shadows. It wasn’t safe to open their eyes, either, with the burns surrounding them still feeling like fire. They held their hands out to either side, wandering around unsure of each step they took. A displeased mumble rang through the floor as they walked.

Darius’ vague shadow approached them, and when his arms wrapped around them, they flinched. They returned the hug, burying their face into him while they could. When he let go, their head raised up to face his.

They gently shook their head with a smile at his worries. “I- it- it’s- it’s— It’s o-okay, Dairy! It’s n- noot your fault!”

Ten’s smile turned serious, their hand pointing to the nearest set of stairs. “We- w- we- we- weeee- we- we- w- we-... We need--uh, We need to leave, Dairy. The… we’ll burn or get buried if- if— weeee stay in here!” They reached up to grab his arm. Gently pulling on it, they urged him. “We-- we gotta go!”



WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
TAZZ (August August)
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Damian, Kinsley, Kisara, Kyo, Peyton, Raph, Sab, Shinko
THICKER THAN WATER
“Wanna trade?” Asked August to the pale horror frozen upon the corpse’s face beside him. Met only moments ago, but he felt like he could tell it anything… Maybe it was the eyes; they lacked any trace of judgment and conviction. Well, they lacked life, too, but that was beside the point.

Perhaps the dead were better off.

Pain spread from the back of his head like a balloon swells and forced his eyes to close—

He laid still amidst the corpse garden, almost blending in if not for his skin, which held not the pallid emptiness of death, but the vibrancy of his natural melanin.

—An ease washed over him in seconds, stolen clean by the gentle hands of sleep.

The rest of what happened came to him like satellite TV in turbulent weather. Before the convergence of Serpents on the Queen; before the shifting environment, a familiar voice reached him by no name or alias and shook him from the cradle of slumber. Then he’d gotten up and moved without autonomy; body before the mind, he fell into place with the rest and not a conscious thought of it.

Now he was here.

August zoned back into the current happenings.

“Uh. Oh. Hello? A thin boy stood apart from the group, facing them as they faced him, giving the impression of one lost.

He blinked, then appeared a knife and wielder, blade’s edge testing the skin of the boy’s throat, followed by some interesting dialogue and the promise of secrets. But August was only just realizing they were somewhere else. He peered through eyes squinted as if gazing into the sun, only the sun was absent, and it was pain behind the lids that made him do it.

Grunting, he rubbed a hand down his face and found his goggles missing, but deemed it no matter, then scoffed amusedly at the hostage and abductor. “Tssst,” tongue pressed to the back of his teeth, the laugh hissed out from the crescent formed of his lips as he shook his head and showed the abductor a questioning sneer. “Him?”

Pain throbbed throughout his skull.

August kept his hands in his pockets and threw them up dismissively, bringing his jacket up with them, then down all the same, and he scoffed again. “Mate, we don’t even know ‘im. We could just kill ya both, yeh?”

One of his hands came out just then. He held his palm at the hostage, fingers sprawled, shrugging, “Or we play a game,” he offered, pausing for dramatic effect. “You hold’im steady… Let’s see if ah can take his head off without yours goin’ withit, ay?” Ribbons of wind chased each other like yin and yang, round and round his palm, drawing circles around the image of hostage and abductor.

“Ah’m thinkin’ ah’ll do a little spin~ How’s ‘at?... If it makes tha mahk an’ you’re still standin’, ya run along…. ‘Cause ah don’t think ya get it, mate. We ah tha weapons.” Such a dramatic line would have been hard not to laugh at if not for the headache keeping him serious.

August had no real intention of killing either one of them, and anyone who knew him would know that, but these people didn’t know him. As far as bluffs went, given the reputation of the group he stood amongst, it was a good one. Maybe it’d even make for a distraction enough for one of the others to make a move before he had to juggle the decision of to or not to kill~
AUGUST/POST NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (See post image) White turtleneck; Teal jacket; White pants; Black shoes; Earrings

— —POST RECAP: August bluffs.

(Interacting w/ Julian, Peyton, Kisara, Taka)
(Mentioned no one)
Coyote Hart Coyote Hart simj26 simj26 AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa Sei Shonagon Sei Shonagon
 
Maria Hojo
SCENE:
The Heist
LOCATION:
Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Jennifer, Maria, Ryutaro, Samira, Sylvie
The Heist
Upon arrival, it didn't take long for things to turn into a shoot out. Not really Maria's thing, but definitely not her first time. Seeing how the crew was shredding apart the security, she focused on getting the ones taking cover. Her shadow extends across the gunfire to the nearest cover of the other side. With one swift movement, Maria stabs the kitana through her shadow, stabbing a security guard and making him fall out of cover. She takes the liberty of finishing him herself, using her pistol. "If you need a flank on them, say the word" she says through the headset, as she pokes through her shadow again, leaving another guard maimed out of cover. She follows the same routine again, quickly taking her shot before looking for another potential cover place to poke. Seeing how some of her crew were running a bit low on ammo, a part of her cursed her potential for being so cold. If it didn't freeze everything she could have been carrying extra guns and ammo for them, but unfortunately she can't. If anything, she could probably just take one off the ground nearby and safely pass it to an ally, but it seemingly wasn't necessary, as she takes in the sight of dead security and workers strewn all over the place. She follows Jennifer as she moves up, keeping a small radius of shadow around herself.
 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Heist]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Ryutaro, Maria, Jennifer, Sylvie, Samira
THE HEIST
Things were coming along smoothly, Camila could hear the footsteps of her allies scurrying around the vicinity of the loading bay. She heard a single gunshot coming from especially closed compared to the ones from Jennifer's onslaught. As she turned back, she noticed a now motionless guard's body on the ground, and a moment later, a slightly shaky Sylvie approaching her. It was easy to put two and two together, her junior had finally pulled the trigger, both figuratively and literally.

"Good job, Spectre, but stay focused, the fight's not over"

Her tone wasn't particularly harsh nor soft, she admitedly didn't feel that bad for Sylvie, she knew it was a matter of time before the rookie had to do it. You just don't climb the organized crime ladder with a pair of clean hands, after all. The girl took cover against the pallet bay as Ryutaro informed them of the good news, a sigh of relief came out of Camila, the less threats they had to worry about, the better. Her mood's improvement was short-lived, however, as a painful, burning sting came from her right arm all of a sudden. A bullet grazed her, a sign of carelesness from her end. She came out of her cover, emptying her entire magazine on the guard in sight. A few bullets flew pass him, but a solid three landed on the man's chest, a painful grunt followed as he fell on the ground.

Moments later, all the guards had been taken care of thanks to Jennifer's and Maria's contribution, Camila was actually surprised to even see the dead workers nearby, all of them at the hands of Miss Weber.

Huh, she's even more of a cold-hearted bitch than I gave her credit for, I should keep my guard up around her a bit more.

She followed along towards the armor as per Ryutaro's orders, things were going well, but it was far from over, she could only hope that the drill would get the job done quick, time was their biggest enemy at the moment.


joshuadim joshuadim Beann Beann Uasal Uasal Shoya Shoya WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 3 [Whole World Blind]
LOCATION:
Vantaggio Tower, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Alicia, Charles, Dante, Hector, Hide, Yukito, Raquel, Zachariah
WHOLE WORLD BLIND
"Good save, Temperer" that was a lie and they both knew it, but still, Charlie appreciated the gesture, made him feel like a tiny bit less of a fool. But now, at last, they were finally on the move. He followed Hector closely behind, a rush of anxiety came back to him as he remembered once again what they were here for. He looked at the queen, as little as he could see from the angle as they climbed the stairs, Charlie was able to notice Hector's expression on his face.

He remembered back, well over a year ago, the same pair found themselves in a not too dissimilar situation. Just the rookie and the back-then Ace, on their way to disrupting a party among the undeserving wealthy. One would think that this would give Charlie a sense of warming nostalgia, but something just wasn't right. Now, if he had to be completely honest to himself, Hector was never exactly a good person, the man was ruthless from the very first day the azure-haired phoenix met him, but even then, the man in front of him in the present felt like an almost entirely different person person from back then. Hector was filled with rage and revenge, a passing glimps at his face was enough to tell that much. Charlie wish that the old Ace was here instead, one that would be fine with this task at least not turning into an all-out massacre.

All previous thoughts were banished from his mind, however, as the Hector opened the entrance leading to the first floor, the lights and loud music previously concealed by the heavy door now hit the two at full force. He had never been in a casino for its proper purposes before back in his old life. But the fancy attires, colorful drinks and lavish decoration hit him once again with a sense of old familiarity, just like all those formal parties from long ago.

"Pharaoh, over here!"

Charlie called over from a few feet away, signaling as what could be a convenient temporary stop: A bar nestled comfortably right in the middle of the room, not a lot of people sitting over however, probably too busy feeing into their ludopaty or need to dance or flaunt their wealth in whichever way the rich people of West would. Charlie sat on one of the fancy stools, calling over to the lone bartender on the other side. Her attention shifted from wiping the glass in her hands to the boy.

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"Sir, Miss, what can I get you?"

Charlie grumbled internally, he was about to correct her, but stopped himself at the last moment. It wasn't worth bothering with that now.

"We'll have the house special, please"

"Right away!"

The girl walked over to the opposite end of the bar, reaching for the necessary beverage to concoct the drink.

"We might as well ask around for a bit, and no one better than the local bartender for that" He playfully winked at Hector. Hopefully this could calm the queen down a little bit as well, the rookie just hoped that the poor girl didn't suddenly end up with a blade through her throat.
 
NPC POST - "BANDY"
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
CDPD-HQ, Upper Central District — 1st Floor, hallway
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Ashley, Gideon, Tatsuya, Inigo, Eric, (NPCs)
TACTICAL MAYHEM
Though the collective response of the group was vague, the blonde’s beauty was not wasted on the eyes of these trained officers. Her allure served as a welcome mitigation of tension for the unforeseeable dooms ahead; a distraction from the tortures of imagination.

The lead-man’s gun lowered ever so slightly. He gave a signal to the others to do the same. They heeded the order without delay.

Tears streaming, the woman told them of her woes between too charming of sobs, the kind meant for screenplay, the kind that’s easy on the eyes that doesn’t offend viewers. But not one showed a hint of suspicion.

Besides, even if they had regarded her with a skeptical eye and treated her with the precautions designed for criminals and threats — “Why did you detain her?” — “She cried too pretty.” — would be a surefire way to land oneself on the District Captain’s bad side, and avoiding that was a challenge enough already.

The distressed damsel threw herself at the group then, earning a few staggered grunts from those who cleared her way and re-trained their weapons on her, only to quickly lower them again as she pleaded desperately that they help her find her sister.

Her request seemed most directed at the group's rear-man, the fully-masked individual with the tinted goggles whose arm she clutched tight as if to bruise the undertaking upon his flesh, marking him to it so that he could not refuse. Except he knew her hysteria to be the most elaborate of facades, indeed, and it was only laughter that he gave in response, throwing his head back.

Confusion swept across the unit.

“Officer Cecil-”

In an interrupting instant, Bandy threw himself at Callista, turning her to face the unit, and pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple — a standard Glock 22 — and he tucked his head behind hers just long enough to lift his goggles, revealing a set of eyes that registered unfamiliar to the officers.

“Buncha no-good, unaware pigs, the lotta ya! HAH!”

He threw a squinted glare over them, grin wide, and said in a low voice, “I been with ya the whole times, y’know?” A grating chuckle boiled up from the pit of his stomach. Something sinister. Then a gasp when all of the breath in his lungs had been spent. And then silence.

And if there’s one thing about silence, it’s that it’s most profound following the abrupt cessation of sounds most abrasive.

Each officer had their sights on him, one or two fingers itching for the trigger, everyone wanting to be the hero — counting their breaths — but none wanting to make the call that gets the girl killed.

“Better put thems away,” advised Bandy, flitting his eyes about the men, mask conforming to the daring, teasing, deranged smile cracking his face.

The lead officer licked his lips, parting his stance for better balance as he eyed the dangerous impersonator through the ringed sight of his MP7, what’s black rim blurred at the edge of his vision, the blonde crisp of focus at its center with Bandy’s arm around her throat. . . . “Let her go,” he tried.

“DON’T GIVE ME ORDERS!” Bandy screamed, face going red; redder.

“LET HER GO!”

“I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL’ER, MAN!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS! SHE’S DONE NOTHING WRONG!”

“I’M FUCKIN’ CRAZY, BITCH!”

“LET-”“I’M A-”“HER GO!”“GODDAMN PSYCHO!”“NNNOOOOOO!” Bandy jerked and pressed the gun harder into Callista’s temple, unleashing a last-effort bellow that blended with the lead officer’s own desperate howl, only Bandy’s transitioned into a guttural, screaming laugh just before he threw Callista at the lead officer, opening himself up for fire.

Triggers were pulled, only four of them, and gunfire drowned out all other sound.

The body in Bandy’s place dropped, blood pooling around it.

The body in the lead officer’s place caught Callista and held her gently close.

One of the other officers approached to inspect the body. He looked into its eyes and…

“SHIT!” He caught on fast. That same officer whirled on Callista and Bandy, who was alive and well, the one holding Callista — whereas the lead officer laid twitching in his own vital essence, punctured full of holes by his own team — and he opened fire.

Not before Bandy, though.

The officer sprung back, writhing as he fell, and drew a line of shots across the ceiling, trailing his descent as Bandy wasted the remaining crew who had no time to understand what was happening.

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Then, when finished, he discarded the weapon to the ground and released Callista, cracking his neck as he asked, “So, you’re the butterfly bitch, right?” He looked at her, bored in the eyes. “You’re a Phoenix.” No longer was his face covered by the mask, as in swapping places with the lead-officer, he'd also swapped their gear.
BANDY/POST NOTES
— —Bandy's Potential: Swap: he can swap places with another person at the snap of a finger so long as they're within sight.

 
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