Nionet Sinblade | Sapphire Dragons - Elder | Location: East District - Her House to Erich's Silva's House (his garage) | Interacting/Mentioned: Erich Silva| Outfit: Main Outfit + Jacket + Hair Accessory (flower)
On the surface of a black marble counter, a full glass of water sits still, condensation falling down the side and creating a small puddle beneath it.
Nionet watches idly in a white stool, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. Looking at the clock, it reads 11:15--an hour off, though no one bothers to fix it.
The room is dim, for the black curtains that drape every window prevent the early sun from shining through. It probably doesn't help that every light in the house is turned off...
Saying on a sigh, "Papa?" Nionet stands to her feet and grabs the glass of water. "If you're awake, I'm heading out." She raises the drink to her lips and sips it whilst waiting for a response.
After a second of silence, "Wait." A croaky voice calls from the hall, to which the girl lowers the glass and whips her head around.
The floorboards creak as an elderly man, though still in great shape, strides through the shadows and enters the living room. He proceeds to walk through the white columns that make an archway into the kitchen.
Nionet smiles, giving a bow as he approaches. "Good morning."
"Morning," Her father returns the gesture, leaning in for a hug. "Where are you going?"
"To help a friend run some errands." She says, hugging him back, then pulling away to meet his eyes, "I'll be careful. I promise."
"You better. I don't want you falling on anymore rose bushes."
At this, her eyes glance to the left. The shame of a lie tugs at her conscious.
After the fight in the tunnel, Nionet had to explain the injuries to her father. Therefore, she regretfully lied, telling him that she had fell into the thorns of rose bush while helping a woman plant them. As much as it hurt her to withhold the truth, it was for the better. Still, she holds the guilt as a punishment.
Turning around to avoid further eye-contact, the girl snatches her keys from the counter, "No more rose bushes. I'll remember that." She says, stepping beside and around her father, who chuckles at the comment.
Watching as she exits the house, he stands alone and gazes upon the half-full glass of water that was left.
After a short drive through the East District, Nionet pulls into a driveway, running smooth beneath her car tires. Luckily, Chikage didn't crush the vehicle to a crunchy pancake during his rampage--The questions from her father would be overwhelming.
Following the concrete pavement, a stunning, two-story house boasts a cream white color with modern design. Nionet parks in front of the garage on the right side and climbs out of the driver's seat, slamming the door behind her.
Taking a deep breath, she makes her way to the garage door and gives it two gentle knocks. The metal echoes a clang.
Akira continued to watch as Lucy fumbled with the car's wiring. Despite his many skills, hotwiring was one of the many things he knew he'd never be able to figure out. While he was a calm and patient man, being able to do something like this in such a heated situation was something he wouldn't have been able to do. And because of that, he commended Lucy. Mentally. She certainly would be a useful acquaintance to him, and that was why he had to seal the deal and make sure she would side with him. Not to mention that even outside of things like reliability and loyalty, she was an interesting person to him. Maybe she'd let him take her out tomorrow to celebrate the New Year.
He looked up to examine the mess that was going on outside. He noticed the empty spot where his car once was. Where did it go? He looked all around for it, only to finally find it--flying towards Chikage. It slammed into him, and before long, his car was torn in half. "Ah, my car!" he gently exclaimed, holding an arm out towards the remains of his vehicle like a person reaching for their dying lover. While he didn't use it much, he really did enjoy that car. It got him places when he didn't feel like walking, the seats were comfortable, and the stereo system was perfect. What on Earth was he going to do without the thing? His life was surely over without his precious car, right?
He dropped his arm and shrugged. "Well, whatever. I can just buy another one." he smiled once again, enjoying the show that was going on outside. Of course, if he wanted things to go his way, they would have to stop Chikage before he ended up killing anybody important. Looking back at Lucy, who sat up once the car started, he leaned over to switch the gear to drive. "I think it's time we got this over with. Make sure you press down all the way on the gas to make him pay for what he did to my car, okay?" he shot a thumbs up in her direction before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes with a smile.
Grey Plaid Slacks + Black Long-Sleeved Turtleneck + Black Belt + Black Boots
Waltzing up to a door hung with the number '405' and feeling the sun against his back, pen and clipboard in hand, C.C. crosses his ankles then twirls before tapping the knuckle of his index finger in knocking.
I look the part. I feel the part. I am the part...
When the door is opened, he shows a beaming smile and leans forward with his torso, nearing the bewildered face of an elderly woman on the other side of the glass. His breath creates a fog on its surface, briefly obscuring his vision of her as she takes a step back.
"Can I help you?" she asks.
C.C. straightens up, "More like can I help you?" He chuckles. "My name is Todd Pastry-" At the name, the corners of his mouth twitch with amusement, but he maintains composure for the most part and continues, clearing his throat, "I'm doing the routine home inspections. We're covering the entire neighborhood ever since the city blackout back in October. You should have gotten a call?"
"Oh..." She seems to study his face. All the while, he holds his smile.
"Can... I see some identification, please?" she asks.
"Of course!" C.C. responds. He tucks his clipboard under an arm, reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a wallet, and flips it open to reveal his "certified inspector" card, upon which is a picture of himself with shorter hair than he has now. The name across it reads just as he introduced himself: Todd Pastry.
The woman steps closer to open the storm door and C.C. steps back to give it room.
She looks at the ID for a moment, then sighs a soft smile, beckoning for him to enter. "Alright- long as yer not one of them scammers I hear so often about."
C.C. snickers, "Oh, of course not!"
[...] SOME TIME LATER [...]
Frantic, she follows him out of the house, almost clinging to him. "W-Well how do I fix it!? Will it really blow up?"
C.C. distances himself. "Please, ma'am. An electrician will be by as soon as possible to take a look at it. For the time being, just relax and stay away from it. At the worst, your house catches on fire but we're going to do everything in our power to prevent that."
He descends the porch stairs.
"Ohhh, please tell'em to hurry, would you?" the woman pleads, much to his subdued laughter.
"They'll be here as soon as possible, ma'am. We've others to tend to, after all."
With one last look in her direction--a pleasant smile and high-held wave--he starts toward another house, waiting for her to recede into her own. When she does, he warps into the fourth-dimension and out of sight, moments later appearing in front of Felicity Quinn in another part of town. She sits on a bench just outside the door of a small flower shop. Overhead, a swaying wooden sign that reads "Rosie's".
His Jinx begins a cooldown of seventy-three seconds.
There's no watch on his wrist, but C.C. pretends there is anyway and checks the time, "Alright, you've got about an hour. Whatcha wanna do 'til then, Miss Electrician?"
C.C. bounces the clipboard in his hand, glancing around.
BASH HIRABAYASHI "Taipan"
𓆗 Sable Serpents |Junior| Jinx: Embargo Location: West District, Gas Station Interacting: Xavier Brax ( Doctor Llamabean
The loud roar of a Honda CB350 could be heard by many as a Bash sped through the streets of the West District. It was a loud sound that many average civilians would notice and immediately tune out. To Bash's previous victims, however, it was a horrifyingly recognizable noise; a warning to run and hide, the deadly ringing of the Grim Reaper's bell. He ignored the violent winds that forced his dark hair behind his head as he continued headstrong, obviously eager to get to where he wanted to go. Despite his energetic way of riding, there was one odd thing to be noted about Bash-- his expression was serious. His eyes were extremely focused on the road, and his lips were as straight as a line. For someone with such violent intentions, he looked surprisingly docile.
As for his intentions, he had made a promise to himself to celebrate the New Year. What did his mom call it? A revolution? Yeah, that's it. His New Year's Revolution was to hunt down as many pesky Dragons, Revenants, and Tigers as possible. He decided on beating at least one member of each gang every single week, and his first target was someone he'd heard about from a Revenant Rookie he'd beaten a week before. While he'd much rather be searching for Diego Mendez, his 'partner' was busy today. Too busy to answer his text, at least. It was no big deal to him, though. Caving in the face of this "Stretch" guy would be more than enough to satisfy him for the rest of the day.
Before long, he was at the Gas Station, and he came to a complete stop in one of the parking areas. He hopped off his bike and made his way towards the door. 'Intel' said that he worked today, so if he wasn't at that counter when Bash walked in, 'Intel' was going to be in big, big trouble. Without hesitating, he kicked the door open, his black boots making a loud thud as they cracked the glass of the door. "OI!" a loud roar ripped throughout the store, and his eyes locked onto the only customer, a young man who was holding a bottle of water. "If 'yer name ain't Brax, get the fuck out before I send ya straight 'ta hell!" with that, the man quickly dropped the bottle and bolted out of the store. With a cocky smile, he walked towards the cashier's counter. 'Course... he looked at the pale-haired man standing behind it. He wasn't too much taller than him, and his eyes seemed gentle, but the clusters of scars along his body and face just screamed that he'd be a good fight. There's only one guy here, so that means...
Bash quickly raised his foot once again, and slammed it onto the top of the counter. "Name's Bash! I'm a Serpent." he leaned in closer, sliding his hands into his pockets as he grinned in Brax's face. "Ya know what that means... I'm here to fuck you up." with that, he backed off, taking his hands out of his pockets and winding his shoulder around. "Come outside. Wouldn't want yer precious little Gas Station gettin' all fucked up, would we?"
Despite her first impression from yesterday, she decided to join Emerick and Shore for their little adventure. She still had suspicions that they knew each other before so she lumped them together but didn't ask about it. As today was New Years Day, the timing was perfect. Their target was having a get together for the new year and right in their office too! It was almost too easy. Estella decided not to tell her gang about the mission as she didn't have assigned tasks to do anyway. If trouble happened, then she would call for backup. This was her first 'mission' without any of her gang members, but she didn't feel nervous. She felt calm and ready to go.
Estella was at the park first, she woke up earlier than normal, and got her coffee to go. She asked for extra shots of expresso as she had to be on top. She didn't ask for any cray flavors either. The park made her relax and there were a few early morning joggers but other than that, there was no one else around. The outfit wasn't comfortable though. As she had to dress the part and was going in as a 'wait staff,' she still had to dress the part. This wasn't her clothes as it wasn't her style, luckily she borrowed it from her mom. She was glad to be around the same sie as her mom. But the weather was nice and she sat on a bench, waiting for the others to arrive.
New Year’s Day. Morning... On that particular morning, Markus, like most other mornings, was pissed. He didn't have anything to be pissed about, in particular. After all, the day was fine as far as days went. Nice, even. He supposed he'd had worse days... But he'd had better. His head pounded to the beat of whatever shitty bass had stuck in his head from the prior night's festivities. Maybe he had drank too much. Which seemed ridiculous, since he never drank too much. So if that wasn't it, then why in the Hell did he feel like shit? He promptly shut down that train of thought. Too much introspection for so early in the morning...
He peered over the rim of his shades up at the coffee shop window. In flowing script, the sign read, Jinnie's. Markus hooked his fingers around the handle and pulled. His choice of coffee shop was seemingly random. And that was fair, he thought. Truth be told in Jinnie's defense, the cutesy place was not nearly as shitty as most of the cafés in the Rose District, so it had that going for it... But that wasn't the only reason Markus liked it.
”Yo,” he half-saluted, stepping into the reasonably busy establishment, scanning the interior with his eyes. One sweep of the place and his friendly countenance dropped off immediately. Approaching the counter, he eyed the nameless nobody who stood across from him. Not who he was hoping to have serve him. Any semblance of mirth drained from his voice as he said, ”Coffee. Black.”. While he waited, Markus tried to covertly peer around the counter and into the shop's back rooms without making it obvious. He hardly even acknowledged the cashier as they rang him out; he snapped his credit card out of their hand and crinkled the receipt he'd been handed before dropping the crumpled paper on the counter. Til then, he hadn't even bothered to take off his sunglasses.
He snatched the coffee and shot the kid a cool look before stalking to an empty table. Today was just determined to piss him off, eh? He dropped down into the empty seat and kicked his leg up on the chair across from him. Popping off the lid, he took a tentative sip—not interested in adding burning his tongue on scalding coffee to the list of things that piss him off today—and pulled out his phone to check his messages. His mind wandered to the night prior, and the strange run-in he'd had with Pablo. Eventually, if not today, he'd have to hunt down the little brat. The two of them had some things to discuss...
~ Retribution ~ Birth of a Wish (This Cannot Continue) || Lucidity’s CS File
While it wasn’t like this was her first time seeing her leader snap she had genuinely never been the target of his rampage. Nor did she really understand why they were now. She was used to being nice and cozy viewing it from the furthest point she could maintain. She did appreciate that Akira seemly was used to this with his attempts to lighten the mood. She inhaled through her nose and let out her breath through her mouth, she was used to grounding techniques. After calming herself she snapped on her seatbelt as Akira advised.
“Considering the circumstances I say we make Chikage pay for our date, since he’s so intent on making a mess.”
Suddenly Chikage was playing a game of keep away with the car they were just in. Akira seemed to regret it shattering. Up until he shrugged it off as he could buy another, damn rich bitches. She was just glad they were no longer in it. But it wasn’t like they were safe he’d probably go for another car in a second. He’d probably go for their car again. She shifted the gear into drive and slammed down aiming the now speeding car to Chikage’s back.
She got the impact and didn’t wait to see if he’d stay down before she threw it in reverse and got them some distance. She wasn’t really watching the where though as she was planning one of the most deadly games of bumper cars ever.
“Is it murder if I just keep hitting him until he stays down?”
At this point, Kanna was looking forward to bringing this day to a close. From what started as a simple meetup quickly spiraled out of control. Regardless of what Nionet said to her, Kanna still held herself responsible.
She followed alongside her Elder, side by side. Her gaze drifted between the floor and up ahead where the tunnel exit was, many thoughts running through her mind. Kanna was mostly worried if Chikage and Nionet would still be able to discuss or if he would just go back to his home right away. Kanna couldn't blame him.
As if on cue, he quickly brushed them, bumping Nionet on the shoulder. Kanna nearly moved to put herself between the two Elders, but Chikage continued on ahead. For a brief moment she could see his facial expression, and it did not look good. Kanna watched as Chikage approached the tunnel, pressing against it until it cracked. She looked to Nionet, who also turned to look at her, then Kanna heard it. The roar.
Kanna moved to stand in front of Nionet, watching as Chikage ripped out a piece of rail from the ground and dragged it out with him, driving it into the hood of a car parked outside.
Wait, thats not...
It wasnt her car, nor was it Nionet's. Kanna then noticed movement as two unfamiliar people scrambled out of the now damaged vehicle, taking cover behind her own. Before she could dwell on who followed them here, she watched as Chikage picked up the damaged car with ease, then hurled it down the tunnel towards where Pit stood.
Kanna began to move, but stopped as she witnessed what seemed like a miracle. Pit caught the incoming car, then threw it back towards Chikage. But, while valiant, the effort was futile as the car was snapped in two by Chikage, who only seemed to be getting angrier and now focused on Pit. That was when Nionet made her move, rushing forward to get his attention. Kanna went to stop her, but quickly caught herself as she observed. Her heartbeat raced faster as Nionet drew closer to Chikage, who went for a grab. But Nionet was quick to avoid it and slid past him, now standing outside and next to Kanna's car.
That was when Kanna heard it. The familiar sound of the engine starting. She quickly realized what was about to happen, but there wasn't much she could do to stop it. The engine revved as her car shot forward, ramming Chikage and knocking him down to the ground. Kanna winced slightly as she heard the impact.
All eyes were on Chikage to see if he was finally down. But he was still going strong.
He got up, roaring again, louder than the first as he stared down at the occupants of Kanna's car, teeth clenched.
She had to end it here. Fortunately, she still had some electricity stored in her.
Kanna outstretched her hands to either side as electricity began to run down from her shoulders, reaching her hands. She then threw her hands forward, the electricity discharging as the bolts raced towards Chikage, striking him in the back. He would cry out, falling to a knee as he tried to resist Kanna's jinx, but collapsed moments later. Kanna stopped, the electricity fading as she caught her breath. Like before, there was a light trail of smoke coming from Chikage, but he was unharmed.
She approached Chikage carefully, ready to deliver another shock if he was still awake. But when Kanna got a closer look, it was safe to say that he was finally down. She sighed with relief, then turned her attention to Lucy and Akira, who were still occupying her car. Kanna's eyes narrowed into a slight glare as she spoke to the two of them.
"Get in the backseats. Now."
She watched as they quickly scrambled into the back. Kanna then looked over to Nionet, her facial expression returning to her usual soft tone.
"I think it would be best if we brought him back to the temple to recover. From there, you can discuss with him further. I think its best if I take him and his associates in my car while you drive Pit and Tadashi back."
With that said, and with the help of Tadashi, she got Chikage into her car, sitting him in the passenger seat. Kanna walked around to see what kind of damage was done to the front, noticing a decent dent in the body. However, a lot of the damage was done inside as Kanna noticed how Lucy had hotwired her car, parts of the dashboard broken off. However, Kanna made no comment and once Nionet was ready, she followed her away from the tunnel, driving back to the temple.
Location: The Ruthe / Eustass Residence [South District]
The early rouse of her morning was prompted by the typical, angry, and cynical text that was sent to her phone. One in which, that was answered with a bundle of cheeky emojis instead of any real text. Her own special way of long-distance communication with the Serpent elder her and Gregorie's conversations went down on a text, then of course, if she needed something to come out as text, she'd only try to translate it to emoji until Gree was all capsing her to speak English. A small chuckle toward the thought as she sat on the bedside, her gaze toward the pleasant sun that slowly climbed the skies. A flustered Gregorie was almost as adorable as watching Jaiden while he slept.
It was ten now, and according to the time that Eustass needed to be at the HQ, they had only but a little more than 40 minutes to be there. Gree gave Ruthe her usual duties, to just be somewhere, look pretty, and out of his way unless called. A mental laugh toward his text, a cheeky sly of a grin sliding across her face as she imagined the smooth and spotless skin of her hand around his neck, her lips pursed over his own as she sipped the blood that leaked from his mouth. That blade that she had so swiftly thrust through his abdomen, and his eyes wide as full spheres, surprised, no-..horrified as they gazed into the crimson red, bloodshot eyes, eyes of a serpent, a true snake, and rightful leader of the soon to be King District-...
or should she say-... Queen- District.
It was then that a low eruption of a muffled chortle conjured from the bottom of her throat, such an image was almost too good to be true. Soon enough, her head turned back to him, the- mentally- young serpent who slept so soundly under his sheets. Her eyes glazed over his slumbering body as smooth and deep breaths rhythmically exited his lips. A soft hand reached toward the sleeping Eustass, caressing the side of his cheek with the knuckles of her hands, to which, the vice elder inclined toward him as her head tilted to the side. A slight smile tugging the edge of her lips, playing upon her face, a tender, and genuine grin.
"Eustass..." She nearly sang.
He didn't stir, and Rutheless let out a chuckle as she brushed her hand through his hair in a settled effort to wake him. "Eustass...love, it's time you rise." Her voice cooed once again. Once his eyes would open, her affable expression was there to greet him. "mHmmHmHmm... He wakes-.." She jokingly stated as she stood, promptly leaning forward to give him a casual kiss upon his forehead. "A plate of breakfast is in the microwave for you. Do prepare for the day with haste darling, you're needed at headquarters." Her voice slowly softening as she made her way out his room, though her head peeked back in with a narrowed glower, "I want a shirt on you today, and to the least, Take, a jacket. You understand." She gave him no room to argue as she then closed the door to let him change.
It wasn't too long until they were on their way, as Eustass was a first-hand witness of how displeased Rutheless became when it came down to being punctual. A taxi pulled before their lawn; after placing her longboard in the back, the two rode up to the headquarters of the Sable Serpents and arrived even nearly 10 minutes earlier than expected. Such a satisfying feeling it was to be present before everyone else. Oh, that's right, she never told Eustass exactly where, what, and why. As they strode through the entrance, she informed him of his duties, that he'd be working with Yelena today, unfortunately, she's tasked with dissimilar orders.
Finally finishing as they awaited the rookie's presence, "So, with that said Eustass, do behave yourself, alright?"
Another day, another-... headache. Then again, with Alistair’s lifestyle, hangovers weren't unusual. What was unusual however, was where he ended up. He wasn’t home, but he wasn’t at the Tiger’s Mansion either. He… was in a home he didn’t recognize. He mumbled under his breath, “Oh great.. don’t tell me I ended up in some rando’s home again… at least tell me they were hot..” with a groan, Alistair got up, his neck tight. Once his feet hit the floor another dilemma caught up with him. Where the hell was his shit?!
Finally out of the rando’s house, fully dressed (maybe a bit sloppy) and a stolen bottle of Advil, he made his way back to his apartment. No way in hell was he about to go out in public in the state he was in.
Now perfected (minus the throbbing headache) he headed out, recently made aware of a new mission he was set to do. With no other than Pascal- the jinxless one of all people. Oh how the gods hated him. Don’t get him wrong, Alistair didn’t hate Pascal, he just… had a mild dislike for him. After the rave Alistair had mixed emotions. Sure Pascal was nice for what he saw, but he just couldn’t bring himself to like him. Maybe it was on the account of how his parents raised him. ‘At least you aren’t Jinxless Alistair, or you would be well and truly the disappointment of our bloodline.’ Another example, ‘Jinxless folk don’t deserve to live, with how useless they are.’ There were plenty more he could quote from the top of his head, but that would take all day. Sure, Alistair did think what they taught him was disgusting- but since he was raised with this being said over and over- it’s stuck in his mind. It won’t leave him even if he tried.
Arriving at said destination with Pascal, Alistair couldn’t help wondering why the hell this medical place or whatever was in a boring ass area. Then again, he really shouldn’t question it- he is in a gang after all. But he really expected it to be more grand.
Once the woman arrived, Alistair became immediately suspicious, but he shouldn’t worry. They’re just here to pick up drugs or some shit. Then they’ll dip. As Pascal stepped in, Alistair followed close behind- not willing to be left alone in a trashy alley. As they walked through Alistair felt a twist in his gut. ‘Why the hell were there children here? I thought this was a freakin hospital or something… maybe it was a kids hospital.. a bit weird to be picking something up from here but oh well.’ They stepped through another door, but… this looked like a child’s room. Why the hell were they here of all places?! As Pascal questioned the woman, Alistair’s mouth gaped wide, like a fish on land. They were taking a child?! What the fuck was happening?!
Alistair snapped back to reality once he realized Pascal was speaking to him. He stumbled on his words, the situation still not quite set in yet. “I-I..” he shook his head and straightened himself up. Clearing his throat, he spoke with no emotion- no matter how hard he wanted to yell. “Pascal. We have our orders. If we don’t do this what will happen to him? Have you even thought of why they want us to take him in the first place?.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe it’s like those shelter things with dogs. If he isn’t out of here by a certain time they’ll kill him..” Of course, Alistair didn’t really believe this but what was he supposed to say? There was no logical explanation for taking a child- especially a gang smuggling a child! There was absolutely no reason why they would want a gang to smuggle a child to some random person. He shook his head, taking another look at the kid.
“I just.. I don’t know, that doesn’t make sense does it?..” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “The hell are we supposed to do? We can’t just… not follow our orders.” Once again, his parents' teachings are locked into his mind. Maybe that is why Alistair is so unwilling to disobey orders from his family, his gang, Hell anyone. He hates doing it, but he feels as if he has no choice.
Grey Jacket + Black Long-Sleeved Shirt + Black Shorts + Mask and Goggles + Baseball Cap + Green Digital Wristwatch
[Reference - Left-most reference] ____________________________________________________________________________________________________
After his interaction with Omar Ayad at the Sapphire Dragons' Temple last night, Silva returned home per his mother's distress--though, he'd been hoping to see Nionet again before the night was over.
To fill the absence of such, he sent her a late message along the lines of: "JACKO GOMME IN TROUBULL C U TMR CHICAaaa, don forget a bout me yes!!!!! IS A DATE. Wake me up. "
When he'd arrived on the doorstep of his own home, his mother came out and scolded him as she'd done before his departure from the Temple. He apologized indefinitely with the utmost sincerity, and mentally noted that Omar is not one to reckon with.
Now, in what some would consider late morning, within the comfort of his garage for a bedroom, Silva clutches a pillow to his chest--prosthetics unattached--and he's lying in a way that his head is hanging backwards off the side of the bed. A peaceful slumber it would seem. However, by the racket of someone knocking on the garage door, the kaleidoscope green of his thin eyes is revealed with a start.
He sits up hastily, tossing the pillow, then his first priority is to grab his goggles from the nearby nightstand since without them he cannot see. Scooting to the edge of the bed, grabbing his prosthetic legs which he picked out the night before, he gets to his feet with a yawn, baring his all-around pointed teeth and forked tongue. The legs are a white pair, someone minimal by design--the right of which has PLUS ULTRA down its shin in black.
He paces around the garage, metal feet noisy against the floor, hopping over various objects scattered about--tools, clothes, books, and different sorts of sports equipment--all the while trying to get dressed. A black shirt and shorts is what he decides on, along with a simple grey jacket, baseball cap, and green digital wrist watch to complete the outfit.
Grabbing his mask, "Un momento!" he calls out to the visitor--half knowing who it might be; anyone else and he's got questions--then by the push of a button on a small remote, the garage door rises to reveal him standing proud with his hands on his hips. Though, the pose is short-lived before he lunges toward Nionet with a long-awaited warm embrace.
He nestles his face into her shoulder, pulling her up until her toes are the only thing touching the ground, "BOSS MAAAAAAAAAAN!!!! EET'S BEEN SO LOOOOOONG!!"
Pascal could care less about orders. No one could prove it, but during some of his previous missions, he had gone out of his way to fudge things up just enough to make things a little more troublesome for Rocchi. It could be argued that he was still bitter about being passed up for Ace, but Pascal would counter with behaviors like this being expected of someone unfit for said position. His record was spotless prior, but if Chikage truly felt he was unqualified, he'd give him a reason to believe it.
The other's whispered earned him a strange look from the blond. "Don't be absurd!" he responded. Although, Alistair bringing up the reason why they were expected to carry out this operation did pique his curiosity. He let out a sigh, turning back to the boy. "Hello. I'm Pascal, and this is my friend..." He wanted to use his own name to build rapport with the boy but didn't know if Alistair was comfortable disclosing his. "... Rab. What's your name?"
The boy's confused expression stayed while hearing Pascal's name but turned to one of suspicion upon hearing "Rab's." "That's not his name. Tell me his real name."
Pascal blinked a few times at the response. "Er... t-that is his name. It's Rab," he insisted with a chuckle.
"If you don't tell me his real name, I won't tell you mine," the boy said before turning away.
Pascal looked to Alistair for a moment before turning back to the kid with a defeated sigh. "Alistair," he said. "His name is Alistair."
The boy's eyes once again met Pascal's. "I'm Akihiko. Everyone calls me Aki."
The smile returned to the blond's face. "It's nice to meet you Aki. I just have a few questions for you. Do you... like it here?" he asked. "And please, be honest. No one's watching you right now, and we won't tell anyone your answers."
Another confused look appeared on his face. "Yeah... I like it here..." he responded hesitantly.
"Good," Pascal responded. "None of the adults here mistreat you or anything?"
Aki scoffed. "I mean, Nurse Jackie didn't get us a GameHub 5 for Christmas but other than that, no."
Pascal let out a chuckle, earning a small smirk from the boy. "I'm happy to hear. And your family... can you tell me about them?"
"Um... I have a mom, dad, and two older brothers. They're okay, I guess. They always bring Burger Queen when they visit. My brothers can be annoying, but they both pitched in to get me a really cool skateboard for Christmas, though. Why are you asking me all these questions?"
Pascal nodded. "Right, well you see..." he tried to once again think of a lie to tell the kid. The fact that someone wanted him kidnapped would surely terrify him. "... your family sent us to make sure you were truly happy being here."
Aki frowned. "Stop lying. They come and see me every weekend. If I was unhappy here, they would know. Who are you and what do you want? Tell me the truth or I'll call one of the nurses!" The blond sighed once again. Why was Rocchi easier to lie to than this kid?
"Alright, alright..." Pascal said. "The truth is, someone wants to take you away from here. We thought at first it was because you were being abused or because you had been taken away from your family, but since that's not the case, we'll make sure nothing happens to you."
The child now had a terrified expression. "R-really...? Why would someone want me...?"
The scientist buried his face in his hands. "This is why I didn't want to tell you..." He once again put on a smile. "It doesn't matter why they want you. Just know that we'll keep you safe. No one is going to take you away from here." Now it was Pascal's turn to look confused. "Although... what exactly is this place? Why are you here?"
"Oh... my parents sent me here because my jinx is dangerous..." Aki said. The look of terror had now changed to one of shame and regret. "Um... sometimes, when I get really sad or angry or something... things around me just suddenly starting becoming weak and... eventually die..." Pascal blinked, trying his best to hold back a similar look of terror to the one the boy had. Aki seemed to have caught on though, as he went on to add, "b-but it hasn't happened in a long time! And if it does start happening, all you need to do is go for a swim! My jinx doesn't affect people while they're underwater! O-or go out in the rain! It doesn't affect people in the rain either!" He forced out a chuckle. "But, um... the people here have been helping me control my emotions and stay calm when I feel bad, so I don't hurt anyone anymore..."
Pascal gave the boy a reassuring smile. "I'm very proud of you for the work you've put in to learn to control your jinx, Aki," he said, "and I know soon enough you'll have it completely under control. Until then, just keep working with the adults here to improve, okay? And we'll make sure nothing happens to you." He turned to look at his partner expectantly. "Right Alistair?"
A small smile came onto Aki's face. "Um... thank you Mr. Pascal, and you too, Mr. Alistair."
Adder Shaley | Ruby Revenants - Senior | Location: West District - Rock Java Coffee Shoppe | Interacting/Mentioned: Retsuko Ichigo | Outfit: Main Outfit + shoes + Jacket
Above the door to the small coffee Shoppe, a bright sign flickers its name.
With a half-smile, both hands in the pockets of his jacket, Adder stands on the pavement outside and admires the place. It's nothing special--no fancy design, nor is it busy--but the memories are what gives it such marvelous value.
Ever since he was a child, this place has been here. Of course, it's experienced some rough times, from the tsunami, to competition and lack of business, and so forth. However, it survived it all--that is why it's so special.
After a second longer, Adder finally steps forward and grabs the silver handle, pulling the door wide open. A bell chimes, alerting the workers of his entrance.
The strong aroma of fresh coffee whirls outwards, brushing his face like a gentle wind. He takes it in with a deep inhale, then exhaling the words "Ah~ Coffee!"
He struts his way to the counter, a bounce in each step, beaming confidence and good energy--so he assumes... Though, for a brief second, his eyes glances to the side to see an unfamiliar person in the corner of the room.
The young blonde barista politely greets him, "Morning Adder, happy new year!"
Adder casually returns the greeting as he approaches, placing two flat palms on the counter. "Morning, Tricky. Can I get a medium coffee, black?"
The girl nods and places the order, "Sure thing!"
He fetches a black, leather wallet from his jean pockets as she totals the cost.
"That'll be a dollar, seventy-five, good sir."
Pulling out two dollar bills, he slides them across the counter, but does not let go, "Here you go."
As Tricky goes to grab the money, it doesn't budge. Her eyes lock with his in an intense clash of war.
She pulls again, but his fingers continue hold the paper firm in place.
Then, with a smug grin, the girl uses her free hand to reach for a pen, and in a split second, the dollar bills vanish from Adder's sight.
A black pen rolls beneath his fingers. "Hm."
Before another word can be spoken, the musical tune of his heavy metal ringtone blares loudly.
Adder quickly retrieves the phone and offers Tricky a polite, dismissive hand, "Excuse me."
"Hello stranger!" He answers with a jovial tone.
. . .
"No, I-... I'm at Rock Java."
. . .
"Yeah, I'll head there after I get coffee."
Cautiously, the barista slides a black coffee across the counter, sparing no words as not to disturb his call. He mouths a silent 'Thank you," before grabbing the cup and walking towards the creamer bar.
"Yeah, I got it. Okay, love you. Buh-bye." The phone beeps, signaling the end of the call, to which Adder puts his phone back into his jacket, then proceeds to pour creamer into his coffee. As he stirs it, warm clouds of white swirl to the top, blending with the black to form a light brown.
The cup of coffee in one hand and the lid in another, he spins around to find a table. However, in the blink of an eye, someone appears before him. Their face is blurry as the two draw to clash, almost as if it were in slow motion.
Per his skillful reflexes, Adder predicts the disaster to occur and quickly concentrates on the material of his wedding ring. Silver becomes his skin from the tips of his toes and fading away just before the collar of his shirt.
All that one can see is the shiny metallic of his bare hands.
The two men bump into each other and coffee flies into the air. The cup is sent onto the nearby table, of which just so happens to sit the unfamiliar face that caught his attention earlier. Adder stumbles backwards, but catches himself.
He looks to the stranger, "Oh shoot! I'm so sorry!"
"Are you kidding me?" The other man snaps, shirt soaked in coffee, and a face fuming with fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Slightly furrowing his brows, Adder huffs "I- I didn't mean to, man... I didn't see you there."
Shoving by him, the guy aggressively snatches napkins from the creamer bar and pats his shirt, "Maybe you should be more considerate. There's other people here, too!"
Be more considerate? I didn't see the guy!
Maintaining a calm and collected attitude, Adder apologetically shakes his head, "You're right. Let's not make an argument out of this."
However, the man's face suddenly drops every ounce of anger. He takes a sympathetic gaze, "Oh man, I'm so sorry. It was my fault--I- I wasn't paying attention. Let me buy you another coffee."
Adder is stunned by the drastic change in demeanor. It takes a few seconds for him to even try and comprehend it before replying, "No, it's okay. You're fine."
At this, the other man gives a polite nod and exits the coffee shop in a hurry.
Dumbfounded. Adder feels like he missed something...
Looking to the stranger at the table, also a victim of the coffee disaster, he gestures to the door with a thumb, "You catch that?"
Seven Eleven (His workplace)
Brax and Bash are standing across from each other in the parking lot.
Bash Hirabayashi Nobody Special
Loose Red Shirt + Grey Hammer Pants + Black Boots
[Reference - Left one]
Unlike the reference image, Brax isn't wearing any accessories. ________________________________________________________________________________________________
The success of yesterday's trials burdens his heart. A light weight upon his chest, but a weight nonetheless unfavorable.
He'd returned home to his mother's, to a list of chores, though his mother was not home. Probably working late, but still she was gone this morning.
He made her breakfast. Himself, too--and ate alone before departing the rundown home for work.
A mundane life at most, save for the occasional call-upon from the Ruby Revenants, he spends the majority of his time at this gas station called Seven Eleven where he sports an "Assistant Manager" name tag and pulls in roughly six-hundred a week. Six-hundred a week of his mother's hair and nail appointments, her dinner dates, their bills, and occasionally... for himself... two things: one ten pound bag of cat food, and another of dog food to feed the strays that often earn complaints from coming and going customers.
Allen Stacey, a regular not much worth his coin since he only ever buys a bottle of water every time he visits, scopes out the section of candy as Brax eyes him from across the store. Not because he suspects anything suspicious, but because of an internal bet he's made with himself.
He figures if Allen buys something more than a Dasani water, he'll try treating himself at the end of the week. Tomorrow's the last day. So far, nothing.
Allen rubs his chin, strolling up and down the short-shelved aisle--a bit of a dip in his gait with each step. An injury, maybe, but he's always had it--at least, as far as Brax has known. As expected, he's carrying a water, holding it by the blue lid, but Brax waits. Watching.
Allen reaches for something on the shelf... An almond joy?
Brax's attention wavers, his eyes turning toward the thunderous, rolling chortle of a Honda CB350 pulling into the parking lot, but he's quick to return that gaze to Allen, whose hand has stopped short of the almond joy in the same response as Brax's to the bike's call.
Suddenly then, the establishment's door flings open with great force, a result of a newcomer kicking it in with his boot and causing a crack across its glass.
Brax's eyes gape wide, eyebrows deeply furrowed.
"OI!" The hostile visitor barks, "If 'yer name ain't Brax, get the fuck out before I send ya straight 'ta hell!"
Allen immediately glances at Brax on his way out, whose blue eyes are sternly fixated on the man named Bash--a name he doesn't know until the guy's nose is mere inches from his own.
"I'm here to fuck you up," he says, backing away and rolling a shoulder.
Brax stares at him, glaring as he usually does. Saying nothing.
"Come outside. Wouldn't want yer precious little Gas Station gettin' all fucked up, would we?" Bash says.
A threat worthy of concern--however, for a second, Brax doubts him, not quite sharing the predisposition that most hold toward Sable Serpents. He's fair in that he gives everyone a chance at a new impression by each word they speak and every action they make.
With that being said, he concludes it's unwise to test the man, and so he steps around the counter--cautiously--slowly--never breaking eye-contact. He doesn't want to fight. Even more so, he doesn't want any harm to come to this store. His mind is made up: Protect it at all costs.
Sable Serpents' Headquarters (The Abandoned Carnival Park)
Rutheless Julio-Hernandez First Rose
, (Soon to be Yelena Zaytseva Elenion Aura
Tightly Fitted Spandex Shirt + Black Cargo Pants + White Belt + Black, Red, and White Sneakers
[Crowbar Saw] ______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Surprisingly, he's a still sleeper--much unlike his usually twitchy and fidgety self. The justification for such is the subconscious awareness of the susceptibility to his own Jinx, and that he could kill himself during a bad dream. For the same reason, he sleeps with his arms wide as if inviting a hug and his palms skyward.
Though, in the beginning, it was difficult--still the cause for intense sleep deprivation from time to time when his anxieties come creeping back to haunt him--it's more natural now. He does it without effort, a trained unconscious behavior.
An innate adaptability for survival.
"Eustass..." His name is called in a dream, yet he doesn't wake.
A hand through his hair and again the voice calls to him, "Eustass...love, it's time you rise." Affectionate and pleasant to hear.
His eyes open then, revealing their golden hues, as well as Ruthe above him smiling down. Unmoved and seemingly uninterested--bored even--he gazes unblinkingly up at her; however, the face is but a facade to conceal his admiration of her immeasurable beauty.
Despite himself, he is not incapable of natural human attraction. Nor is he incapable of love.
Ruthe is simply the only one who's been able to draw it out of him.
He relates to her.
She's his sanity.
Mere thoughts to never be spoken, of course, as the one thing that outweighs his capabilities to love is his incapability to understand his love, and so to speak of it remains a fear stitched into the very atomic fibers of his heart, that should he ever cave and even stutter a word of it, he feels he would corrode through his chest and pull the very muscle from its place within him.
Dramatic, it sounds, but Eustass possesses no judgement of extent.
Suddenly, as if his thoughts have been playing aloud this whole time, and by the sadistic quality he knows her to have, Rutheless plants a gentle kiss upon his forehead--but rather than gratifying per his love for her, he sees it as a drop of poison, and inwardly he curses her.
However, on the outside, he maintains his facade. Eyes lidded with tire and exhaustion, lips relaxed--the calmness a grace period before his tics and hyperactive tendencies kick in.
"A plate of breakfast is in the microwave for you. Do prepare for the day with haste darling, you're needed at headquarters," she says.
His eyebrows pinch together, and he lifts his head to look at her, "Huh?"
"I want a shirt on you today, and to the least, Take, a jacket. You understand." Then she's gone.
Some time later, when he's clean and fully dressed, grateful for the warm weather, he arrives at the Serpents' headquarters at Ruthe's side, dragging his crowbar along behind him as they enter, holding it with all but his pinkie so as not to corrode it. Only then does Ruthe inform him of his duties to be carried out, and in reaction to such, he yells over her request that he behave himself in a growling voice, "BULLSHIT!... NO, THAT'S FUCK-... THAT'S BULL- SHIT- THAT'S- NO!! WHO MADE THE RULES!? I'LL FFF-UCKIN' KILL'EM! I'LL- KILL 'EM- I'LL- I'LL KILL'EM!"
All the while he is enraged, he displays twitches of the head like someone weathered with abuse would flinch at a raised hand, as well as tight and excessive blinking of the eyes.
"I'M NOT- I'M NOT DRAGGIN'- A- DRAGGIN' AROUND SOME PIECE OF- PIECE- SOME SHIT ROOKIE-" he curls up, tucking his head a tad to fight the stutter, then bursts again with, "TO SLOW ME DOWN! I CAN KILL A COUPLE OF SPU- OF SPU- OF SPUM- SP- SPUM-" Abruptly, the boy grabs himself by the jaw and squeezes it tightly as he bellows out a loud and agitated cry, "GAAAAAAAAAAAAH! SCUM-PRICKS!" He finally manages, turning away from Ruthe to go throw his tantrum elsewhere, "SCUM-PRICKS! I CAN DO IT ON MY OWN!"
He swings his crowbar saw at another member in the distance who is unfortunate enough to get caught staring at him, "WHADDYALOOKINAT!?" Then he smacks the back of his hand against his own forehead before flipping them off as he continues through the park and away from Ruthe. This is bullshit! I won't do it! I'm not doing it!
Omar Ayad was busy checking out a newspaper while waiting for his latest concoction for a new weapon to finish mixing in the blender. The very fact that Omar Ayad had guns hidden around the temple made some of the Sapphire Dragons wonder if he was more of a doomsday prepper rather than overly cautious. While Nionet Sinblade did not made any objections to his preparations, Omar Ayad cannot stop the feeling that many within the Sapphire Dragons were not eyeing him as weird. When the whole get together was done and many of the members went their separate ways, Omar Ayad went straight home to see if his latest concoction was ready. Seeing on the Front page a story titled : New Year Disaster as it goes of to say that a New Year celebration slash Birthday party got interrupted by some sort of maniac however most of the newspaper seem to agree that the police are not talking...
Omar Ayad: " Must be a reason why Erich Deon Silva sent me that text."
Omar Ayad would look at his cellphone which Erich Deon Silva text was still present with the picture of Cordelia Paderau Vaughn.
Omar Ayad: " Why is he asking me to bring Cordelia Paderau Vaughn? Should I tell Nionet Sinblade that maybe Erich Deon Silva has a thing for blondes? Sometimes Erich Deon Silva, I find it hard not to hit you when you ask me to do things without context."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Why don't you hit him? You know just walk up to him and smack him right at the back side of his head. He will never see it coming."
Omar Ayad: " Not listening to you."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Maybe he is setting you up on a date."
Omar Ayad: " Argh, what is up with you and your several attempts to get into my personal life? Like why did you put my profile on a dating website?"
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Honestly you need some spice in your life... You know a little passion fruit in the cocktail you call life."
Omar Ayad: " What is with the fruit and drink metaphor?"
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Well whenever you go out and you don't take me, I just open your refrigerator and see what is inside of it....Also You really need to go grocery shopping."
Omar Ayad: " You are just a puppet and a figment of my imagination and how in the world you know whats inside my refrigerator ?"
Jack-O'-Lantern: "I get bored real easy. Couldn't you get a television set? "
Omar Ayad: " Television entertainment will rot your brain. Its better to read a book."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "I have read all your books and if I recall I was made with felt so I don't have a brain to rot...Can't you finish making the rest of the puppets? "
Omar Ayad: " It takes time, its not like making a sandwich."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Hate to burst your bubble but your refrigerator does not even have any food to make a sandwich. Go grocery shopping."
Omar Ayad: " Fine fine...I'll go and its pretty obvious you are not going to stop talking."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Please take me with you too...Also what is with that concoction?"
Omar Ayad: " Home made pepper spray.... Cayenne peppers with Tabasco sauce mixed with rubbing alcohol and vegetable oil blended to make what I call fire spray... a non lethal but near burning level pepper spray. "
Jack-O'-Lantern: "You couldn't just buy pepper spray?"
Omar Ayad: " That leaves a paper trail... With the stuff at the Shawarma store, I could easily whip up fifty bottles of this stuff...along with this spray bottle to use as dispersal device and its good to go."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "I pity the fool that decides to mess with you. So grocery shopping?"
Omar Ayad: " Later...we need to pick up Cordelia Paderau Vaughn and see what Erich Deon Silva wants...If and only if its something stupid we will smack the stupid out of him."
Jack-O'-Lantern: "Now this is a plan I can stand with."
Omar Ayad began loading his duffel bag with the spray bottle with his so called fire spray, two war picks or horseman picks, the Jack-O'-Lantern mask, Jack-O'-Lantern puppet, a few business cards, newspapers, five roman candle fireworks and a extra pair of gloves. Omar Ayad started to wear a black hoody with the hood down and long sleeves, black gloves, cargo pants, and black sneakers. Omar Ayad checks each door and make sure that they are locked before taking the duffel bag, leaving his apartment and closing the door behind him. Omar Ayad makes his way down the stair neglecting to use the elevator as he then reached the ground floor before walking to the community parking garage where a Sapphire Dragon member is working with a security guard to keep watch. Omar Ayad would then submit his ticket to get the white van as soon as it brought forward did Omar Ayad would replace the Sapphire Dragon member and Omar Ayad took note that they keys were in the ignition as he drove his way to the Sapphire Dragons Temple. Parked the car near the stone stairs before getting out and getting his duffel bag. Omar Ayad took once over before locking the doors to the van and climbing the stone stair until he made it the courtyard of the temple before muttering out loud.
Omar Ayad: " We need to get a second head quarters... Having the Sapphire Dragons in one place is just asking to get raided...maybe one where we can have look outs that can hide and not just standing around... Next time, I'll ask Nionet Sinblade..."
Omar Ayad finished taking another quick breathe, he remembered that maybe Cordelia Paderau Vaughn was around the temple as he began searching each area of the Temple, from the Lounge area, to the main Temple area where the stautes to even the small dojo that was added on to the Temple. All the while Omar Ayad was shouting at each room after a quick check.
RETSUKO ICHIGO | No gang affiliation | Location: West District - Rock Java Coffee Shoppe | Interacting/Mentioned: CrackerAdder Shaley | Outfit: Sharp |
Ichigo stands abruptly as coffee paints its way across the lacquered wood, as though a pop artist randomly chose this for his canvas of splash-style painting. Untainted by the liquid due to spring-like reflex, Ichigo eyes the area to assess the spill, quipping"Not everything is worth a fight." An audibly dry response to this new acquaintance to keep things neutral. "Maybe he just realized he forgot something. It was more important."
Ichigo's pathetic attempt at an explanation for such drastic mood change in the angered patron, matched his unrefined personality. Though he dresses with taste, his personality is dry and colorless without flair."My name is Retsuko Ichigo" extending his broad hand as invitation for a handshake. Ichigo's stature is usually daunting given his looming 6'2" peak mounted on shoulders obviously formed from rugged farm work and ship-board deckhand labor. Physically intimidating yes. However, his personality doesn't quite fit his stature. Ichigo would take a punch to the face only to follow up with an apology. He’s just pudding-like. Feeling compelled to better know this person, he rapidly unloads a mildly-adaptive explanation of his presence. "I just arrived in New Oasis on the last intercity bus. I need a new scene ya' kno'? Kinda' startin' over with a fresh life. Left everything back home to kick off a whole new me. So what name are you known by?"
Ichigo's thoughts smugly applaud themselves for such execution, "Oh bravo! Bravo! What a performance! Just a small adjustment to the angry patron's fear of being late. Put him right on a collision course with our new jewel of an acquaintance. Coffee spilled, wants to fight, I quell his anger, make him super apologetic, and viola. What brilliance! I can now get to know this fantastic ray of sunbeam!"
The whole event was seamless and a joy to watch unfold, but there was something...odd. Subtle and swift, a strange thing caught Ichigo's meticulous eye. Right before the scalding liquid contacted his friend-to-be, his skin seemed to change or morph into something else! Ichigo has never seen a power in another person. His entire life has been to refrain from using his or revealing what he is capable of, forbidden. This guy blatantly displayed something different, without fear, hesitation, or discretion right here in the open.
Behind crisp lips a joyous cheer presses in Ichigo's throat...
"I belong here."
Yelena's phone buzzed on the counter in her quiet, empty apartment. A new message notification popped up, lighting up the screen. The name read, Bash.
Yelena was not there...
Instead, Yelena was on her way to the Serpent HQ for a mission. Sorry, Bash. The search for Diego Mendez would have to wait. For now.
By the time she arrived, Yelena saw that she was late. Rutheless Hernandez - the Serpent's Vice Elder - was here already. The two women exchanged a look. Sadly, this was not who Yelena was meant to find. Despite her fiendish reputation, surely Rutheless would've been a better choice to send. Anyone else would've done fine. Anyone besides... Ah, speak of ze devil.
Behind Ruthe stood the boy, Eustass, twitching and salivating like some base creature. Yelena lowered her eyes at him, appraisingly. This thing was to be her partner for this mission?
Her disdain for him was unapparent (at least, not any more than usual) on her face, however, and in a moment she'd made peace with the fact that, whether she liked it or not, she'd be spending a few hours in close proximity with this... Eust-ASS..? Stupid name. For a stupid brrrat.
"Okay, enough dawdling. Let's go."
By the time they arrived, Yelena had already had quite enough of her new partner's antics. This was, thus far, the second Serpent in two days she'd teamed up with who fit - in her mind - the definition of a 'Sable Serpent'. And yet, it was hard to imagine that Yelena found herself preferring the company of someone like Bash (loud, aggressive, crude that he was). Perhaps it was because Eustass was all of those things, only seemingly amplified, and with more, well... Simply more. Too much, for her tastes.
For Yelena's part, she'd done her best to ignore his outburts until they'd arrived at their destination, though the tightness in her jaw suggested that she hadn't yet managed to completely tune the tiny aggravation out.
"I zink zis is it." Yelena stopped to look up at the ramshackle abode. It certainly looked the part of a small-time thug haunt. She would've used her phone to confirm the identity, but she just now realized that she'd left it at home. Careless girl. Without taking her eyes off the closed door, she asked, "How do you vant to do zis?" Before remembering who it was she was speaking to, and the futility of trying to strategize with him. She'd sooner discuss battle tactics with a rabid Pomeranian.
Tags: Doctor Llamabean
A hearty, malicious guffaw escaped from him as they both exited the store. His golden orbs scanned the parking lot before he turned to face his opponent, locking eyes with him. Nobody was there, not a single customer nor bystander. "Slow day, eh?" there was no answer. Only a troubled glare back at him. Ah, right. He raised his hand up to his chin as he eyed Brax up and down once more. Fucker's a mute. Almost forgot. It was no issue to him. He didn't care if someone was mute, deaf, blind or anything else. As long as they had a way to fight, everyone got the same treatment.
He dug the toe of his boot into the ground, stopping to stretch his arms, legs and neck. A quiet 'pop' could be heard every now and then as he broke down into his full stretching routine. It was an odd display, especially for someone who had just finished challenging another person to a fight. His focus on his stretches was uncanny, as if he was taking an important test and had to get everything right. The level of concentration was so high that, if Brax really wanted to, he would have been able to get a free punch in right then and there. There was something off about him, however-- he had been staring at absolutely nothing the entire time. A gaze oozing bloodlust, yet aimed at thin air. His face was violent, as if daring someone, anyone to try and disrupt him. Try me.
Once he finally finished, taking up about a minute and a half of Brax's time, he stood tall, reached into his pocket, and slipped out a hair tie, pulling his hair back and tying it into a ponytail. Of course, he made sure it covered the burn mark his father had given him so many years ago; the sole reminder of the root of all of his problems, as he had mostly forgotten all about the man who raised him. "Alrighty then, I'm all ready." a wide smile appeared on his face, fully revealing his beastlike canines and his bloodthirstiness. "Let's see what you got."
Very little time had passed before Bash was merely a few inches away from Brax. If the guy was caught off guard by his straightforward assault, it would be no one's fault but his own. His fists were tightly clenched, tired of waiting to destroy everything in their path--flesh and bone included. His right hand was thrown behind him, winding up for a powerful haymaker punch to Brax's stomach. It would definitely be a gut wrenching blow, one that would feel as if a small-wrecking ball were being driven into him at full force. The anticipation was too much, and Bash couldn't take it anymore, immediately driving it forward into Brax's abdomen--
What the hell happened? That wasn't the blissful impact Bash was so well-accustomed to. It was more like... punching a mound of clay. There was no heavy impact of bones smashing against his knuckles, no satisfying sound, and most importantly...no gut wrenching reaction. "The fu..." the last word faded out before he could finish it. What the hell was going on? It didn't take long at all before all reasoning completely disappeared from Bash's mind, being kicked out and replaced by pure rage. He let out an aggravated snarl of sorts before stabilizing himself on the concrete and firing off a flurry of punches in Brax's direction.
Vulken Beckman "Draken"
Ruby Revenants |Senior| Jinx: Incinerator
Location: West District, Boltius' apartment
Interacting: Boltius ( Doctor Llamabean
Eyelids raised to reveal two orange spheres, staring directly at the ceiling. They belonged to none other than Vulken Beckman, who was, much to his embarrassment, just waking up. His new apartment was barely furnished, and he had moved his few belongings in by himself the day before, so he ended up passing out on his 'bed' (which was actually just two blankets laid on top of one another) in no time. He usually had his alarm set to wake him up an hour or two earlier, so that he would start running out of energy just around the time people started needing to get things done. He sighed, annoyed by the glare of the sun that was attacking his eyes through one of the many windows that lacked a shade, and sat up, using his arms as momentum to bring his tired upper half into a sitting position.
It was his second day back in New Oasis, in eight years. He was lucky enough to have found a place to stay before he came back, and he spent most of the previous day being bombarded with questions by his siblings and parents much earlier that morning, to which he answered with subtle lies or mysterious cliffhangers. Of course he felt bad-- lying to family and all, but in truth, he himself could barely remember what he had did throughout the years that passed. He chuckled at himself and placed a hand on his forehead. Tryin' to make myself think I lost my memory ain't gonna work. He rose to his feet completely, still noticing that he was still wearing his sweatpants from last night. Proof of his fatigue. He was smart enough to at least take his shirt off before he went to sleep, as he would have woken up and tore the thing off of himself if he didn't. With a loud, lazy yawn, he retreated to the bathroom to handle his hygienic duties and get ready for the day ahead of him.
While he did see his family yesterday, there was one sibling he missed: his younger brother, Boltius. To his surprise, the pipsqueak managed to snag his own place, and Vulken had 'just missed him' by the time he returned to his family's home. It was his duty as the older brother to return and let the scrub know that he was back to protect him, so he made plans to visit him before handling some other business. Once he finished brushing his teeth, always choosing to do it last to 'keep his breath fresh longer', he threw on a new shirt and a new pair of pants, laced up his black boots, and slid his black coat to complete 'the perfect outfit'. After winking at himself in the yet-to-be set up mirror and sliding the keys to his new apartment in his pocket, he set off to conquer yet another long day.
While he planned to take his time making his way to his brother's apartment, Vulken appeared to have an involuntary spring in his step today. Perhaps it was nostalgia, the feeling that anybody could be creeping around the corner with full intent to harm you, that made him walk faster than he had been for the past eight years. Whatever it was, Vulken barely acknowledged it, and he was outside of Boltius' apartment complex before he knew it. Luckily for him, somebody had been opening the door to the building once he got there, so he slipped inside with them, acting natural as if he were a tenant himself. He lazily dragged himself over to the designated apartment, dreading his idea more and more with every inch of distance he closed between the door and himself. He knew his brother well-- Vulken was probably going to get punched, or yelled at, or some other scene would be made. I'll just have to knock him upside the head, He thought as he raised his fist to the door and knocked loud enough to surely catch anybody's attention. A smile grew on his face as he waited for an answer. It would be nice to see his little bro's face again after all this time.
His eyes lowered in annoyance as more and more time passed without an answer. Fuckin' little shit... I take it back. He raised his hand to knock again-- this time with much more force, generating a loud banging sound that would surely make someone answer the door. If you don't open up, I'm gonna blow the damn door down.
He can corrode and disintegrate things by touch at a rate of one or two-inches-per-second.
Random Ramshackle Abode [Reference]
Contrary to the reference image, the ramshackle building is under construction--though, the construction has temporarily been halted for personal reasons by the new owner of the property. Where another road can be seen in the image beside the building, this is actually the property's parking lot in the story. There is a long chain connecting two concrete posts that's blocking the entrance to the said parking lot in order to keep people from loitering for the time being until the business is up and running. The parking lot is littered with different construction equipment.
______________________________________________Wearing______________________________________________ Tightly Fitted Spandex Shirt + Black Cargo Pants + White Belt + Black, Red, and White Sneakers
Since he's shirtless, the hand-shaped scar on Eustass' right hip can be seen. By appearance, it's like a bruise that never fades, but upon closer inspection the skin is hard and cracked, dry and rough to the touch. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________
While the trip to their designated location wasn't long, Eustass sure as hell didn't make it easy. Poor Tsarina, he gave her a time, snatching the lead in their travel only to try taking a turn in the wrong direction, which anyone who could read the road signs would've avoided. He managed to play it off as a test of Yelena's wits, then proceeded to call her names whilst steering himself back on track.
Sure, he was in front the majority of the way, but it's fair to say he's not the one that got them here.
Standing before the front of the long-neglected building--Eustass, having tossed his shirt to the wind before their arrival--Yelena opens her mouth to speak, "I zink zis is it." However, as she does, Eustass hears only his own voice saying the same thing, "This the- this is th- This is the place."
He hopes it will bother her, but evidently not. Her expression remains placid.
"How do you vant to do zis?" She asks.
Bringing his crowbar saw up with one arm then onto his shoulder, he turns to point at her with a cracked finger, cocking his head somewhat to the side and back, and he firmly states, "I don't like you." Still pointing, he continues, "So I'mma- I'mma kill you when we're done."
Eustass takes the hand he's pointing at Yelena with, and he opens it, turning his palm skyward, then he flexes his fingers.
"Cuz that's what- th--th--these hands were made for."
This belief settled in his mind many years ago when he realized his Jinx serves no good purpose. It's a tool of destruction and that's all. And so he finds his own purpose in its likeness... by destroying anyone who gets in his or Ruthe's way.
All of the sudden then, unable to keep still any longer--as if every second he's not twitching or fidgeting or moving around, his nerves coil into tight springs ready to snap--he flinches, dropping his hand, and tightens up in the shoulders like one would when being tickled. The abrupt jolt causes him to drop his weapon--and as it descends to the ground, he lifts a leg and jumps away from it, scowling angrily as he curses, "Fuckin'-!"
"Stupidmfckindumbassstupidshit," he grumbles, picking it up. By the slenderness of his body, his spine bares somewhat of a protrusion when he bends over, much like the strip of fur that opposes the direction of a Rhodesian Ridgeback's overall coat.
Wasting no time, as he straightens up, Eustass hurls his crowbar through one of the windows of the building and chases after it as it shatters through the glass. Luckily no one's around. Even so, they're not supposed to bring destruction to the property. It sort of defeats the purpose of them even being here in the first place.
Eustass vaults through the self-made entryway, catching a few fragments of glass in his hair, with all the intention of slicing up the first unlucky punk within. However... There's no one here. Also, the door is totally unlocked since the thugs have threatened Gideon Cruise enough that he's avoiding any risk of pissing them off.
Whipping around, Eustass yells at Yelena, "BITCH, YOU BROUGHT US TO THE- TO THE FUCKIN'- THE WRONG FUCKIN' PLACE!"
He can bend, stretch, and twist his body to his will.
Seven Eleven (His workplace)
Brax and Bash are engaged in battle in the middle of the small parking lot!
Bash Hirabayashi Nobody Special
Loose Red Shirt + Grey Hammer Pants + Black Boots
Unlike the reference image, Brax isn't wearing any accessories. ________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Slow day, eh?" Bash questions.
Brax nods once, the deep furrow of his eyebrows giving the impression of anger when, in truth, he is perturbed, watching the other with unwavering intensity--inwardly caving under the weight of depression of endless doubts toward the world and all its people.
But Brax loves those people. This one too. This one that looks upon him with ferocity as he limbers up to fight, giving rise to questions spurred by a deep pain in Brax's chest.
The pain of seeing this man and knowing he wishes to cause harm.
If Brax could reach to him and brighten the darkness that blinds him, he would, and he wants to.
"Let's see what you got."
In a rush of unforeseen speed, Bash is on Brax with an otherwise devastating punch had Brax not been born a rubber man, and with shock in his eyes, Brax stares deeply at Bash's face with an unblinking blue gaze.
His heart aches more... But he cannot place why.
Perhaps his own feelings are hurt?... No... Perhaps pity for the other and the unknown events that carved his rage and continue to shape it today?...
Brax's bottom lip abruptly puckers into a quivering pout, and it looks as if he'll cry. But within the same moment that Bash stabilizes himself and commences a gatling of brutal punches--his form the rendition of possibly years of experience and training--Brax, too, takes his stance and proceeds to block and dodge the incoming attacks, appearing to mostly swat Bash's fists away whilst backing up with each swing.
Well-knowing of the surrounding area, Brax senses one of the many fuel dispensers at his back and makes a clean getaway by ducking under a left-handed punch from Bash to reposition himself behind him--but of course, Bash's back is never truly exposed. He's skilled in that he turns with the dodge, almost as though he saw it before it happened.
Brax shuffles back, creating about eight feet of distance between them, and recomposes himself, resetting his stance.
Had he not been so drunk last night not to check his phone, he would know of his only brother's return to New Oasis. A return that bears the weight of eight long years.
Eight years ago, Vulken disappeared. Three years ago, Boltius abandoned the pain of hope and self-pronounced him dead, yet to this day every tuft of red hair amid a crowd of people warrants a double-take; an unspoken maybe.
Anymore, when the thought of Vulken crosses Boltius' mind, he stores it away--somewhere deep within his conscience, a locker room of lockers bulging from an overflow of polaroids of each passing reminiscence.
With no body to mourn--no grave to visit--Boltius has wished eight times by the breath on the candle of a birthday cake for his brother's return.
Now, it's a new year...
Maybe this time he'll wish for himself.
A knock at the door stirs the orange-haired boy from his sleep, fiery hues peeking under drowsy lids at the television. Nevertheless, he doesn't rise, and again his eyes close.
He lays there for another three minutes before finally the realization, by the growing intensity of the knocks, that the visitor isn't something from a dream tosses him to his feet, and he scrambles through the apartment--first crawling like a drunk gorilla--until he's at the door, painfully unprepared to see the face behind it.
The door opens then, fully and wide, and Boltius' eyes dart up to meet those of the taller individual.
A passing moment, and eight years of sadness, grief, despair, and heartache snap across his face in the configuration of an ugly grimace just before he buries it into the crease of his arm and hunkers forward, an intense surge of suffocation closing in on his lungs per a rebellion against the tears. Inhaling finally, he chokes.
This isn't real.
Boltius trembles. His body flickers between hot and cold--something that's hardly happened before.
This isn't real.
He chokes again.
Now, his body burns hot, progressing hotter by the second.
It settles in... Those eight years of pain warp suddenly into consuming rage, and the arm into which the boy has been burying his face to hide his hurt rears down for an uppercut, his torso turning with it, and he swings up with all the might he can muster after a long night of partying, sluggish somewhat from a hangover.
Should he miss, by the fire in his heart, he'll swing again.
"YOU SELFISH BASTARD! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA!? HOW MUCH SUFFERING YOU'VE CAUSED!?" And so the tears leak--tiny droplets, one from each eye. Small but potent--that should they hit the floor, it seems the apartment might flood.
Yellow and White Striped Button-Up Shirt + Black Slacks + Black Dress Shoes + Wrist Watch
[His Bike - Harley Davidson Fat Bob 107] [Helmet]
His face is busted up pretty bad--mostly the left side. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________
He got what rest he could--if you can call laying down for five minutes, getting up to pace around the room for an hour, then laying back down rest--then yeah.
All throughout the night, his injuries ached and itched and burned--and in frustration from so, he trashed his apartment looking for any substance that might numb him.
He doesn't know what happened to Misa after he blacked out. Frankly, he doesn't really care.
He got what he wanted from her: something to hold over Gree.
But last night, after the ambush, he woke to the stench of his own sweat, face stuck to the pavement by the blood of his own lip frozen from the cold, and he discovered that the money they'd stolen--that five-hundred and forty-thousand dollars that they spent--was a debt owed to none other than Lionel Ruther La'Dabella, the first son of the previous Vice Elder of the Sable Serpents.
When he'd returned to his apartment, he stumbled into the bathroom and passed out in the shower with his clothes on, letting the warm water rain down.
Of course, with only a ten gallon water heater, he wasn't out for long before the pleasant cascade became chilling and sharp, and he escaped the tub in a panic, shivering and cursing, only half-sober.
Now, sitting on the floor at the foot of Misa's bed, he stares absently at a text from Gree in the form of a group-message to Malik and others that details an assignment they're to go on after noon. By this point, his clothes are dry and the water has probably heated up again, so he decides to shower without offering any acknowledgement to the chat.
Once he's finished, he dresses in something suited to the assignment, then takes a final look in the mirror to see his busted features, having forgotten. His lower lip is cracked and bruised. His left cheek, scuffed and somewhat swollen. And a darkness more than usual underlines his left eye.
On his way out the door, he finally texts the group between himself, Gree, Vicky, and Jaiden to decide on a meeting place, then he dons his helmet and rides out.
"I don't like you. So I'mma- I'mma kill you when we're done."
Yelena did not respond to this, or any of his previous outbursts. She maintained her cool despite the sudden glint that passed in front of her eye, as she was bemused to find herself half-wishing that he’d follow through on that promise. I’d like to see you trrry.
She ascended the single step to the front door and pulled it open, careful to avoid crunching on the glass that Eustass had strewn over the floor like a disgruntled toddler would throw his toys about. Empty. Yelena’s brow furrowed, wondering if the howling idiot might be right. Could this be the wrong place? She had no way to confirm, remembering again her phone...
”Vell, zis sucks.”
She thought aloud, striding across the room to a table and chairs. A cooling mug of coffee sat on the wooden tabletop, along with the unusual signs of gang activity. ”No. Zis is place. We stay put. Vait for zem to come back.”
She sat on the unoccupied chair—some insane part of her mind urging her to down the coffee rather than let it go to waste—kicking one leg up and over the other before folding her hands primly in her lap. In that moment she appeared for all the world like a spider nestled in its web.
After Eustass’ next inane comment, which Yelena knew was only moments away, she retorted with, ”Listen up, urrrod. Herrre is plan. You fight zem all. I vatch. Should be niet prrroblem, da?”