Multiple Settings A Heart's Mortal Coil

[BriiAngelic]

Waiting for the Rain

Today was the day of the Winter Equinox. In the city of Bijulī, one of the four last bastions of Quin, people began to spill out on the streets from their residences above the local shops. As the shortest day of the year began most parents spent every last moment they could with their children. Whether they desired to see their child possess the power of the Mahou Shoujo or be spared from that destiny today all of it came to a head for any child above the age of ten.

The older children seemed to shuffle away from the newcomers who now came to their city. The Elysium Agents of the area were setting up equipment in the town square for the night to come as additional Mahou Shoujo began to arrive at the city gates. A communication broadcast rung out on the dataslates across town echoing the words to the entire city.

GREETINGS! ^-^
The Magical Girl Aptitude Test is being set up in SHINYA SQUARE.
For the safety of all citizens do not enter the Access Square until 19:00.
Any children over the age of ten should be accompanied to the Square by 19:00. Agents will be escorting any unregistered children to the square should instructions not be followed.
Our Mahou Shoujo will be patrolling for your safety and well-being.
Please Welcome our Heroes as we usher in a new generation of Mahou!

Its cutesy voice only made the message all the more unsettling as the thinly veiled threat went over only those whom it was not aimed at. Shops and restaurants were open as the streets were filled with those looking to entertain themselves in any way possible. In the center of the old shopping district, a group began to singing. Some with sorrow and some with excitement.

Back at the gates, a door opened to the large bus that carried in the Mahou Shoujo to the city. A woman with short purple hair boarded nodding to Elysium agents in charge of watching over their precious Mahou. She walked up the stairs and into the hall that connected to the sleeping quarters of the bus.

“Wakey Wakey. Betcha guys are dying for a proper shower and some damn food.”

Nova Anyw The Regal Rper simj26 The One Eyed Bandit Coyote Hart Haze- ATurei Roda the Red​

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ikaika | Bijuli

“That and getting off this bus.” Came the dry reply to follow their attendant's remark.

Sitting up he had to rub his face. There was something about being the one that had taken it foolishly upon himself to handle the loudest person on their side of the deck, that had earned him along with the others unfortunate to be exposed to Kiri's musical tyranny, a few opportunities at working on the perfect frown.

Granted he had liked the girl's talent. He just hadn't appreciated the inability to tone it down when demand became necessary for sleep.

He was used to disruptions or surprises causing a stop en route, he wasn't used to it being due to one person's more obnoxious attitude.

Ikaika shifted off the lower bed of the bunks he had chosen for his own with a sluggishness even he felt was not normal. He blamed recent activities, dealing with the Rock Queen as entertaining as she could be, over several days of travel that had surprisingly worn him down a bit. Not enough he found her detesting but certainly as he moved, he could see the lingering signs. Getting out he stretched, joints popping, with a grunt of minor satisfaction as his stretch hit its peak and tense limbs went slack as his arms dropped to his side.

Immediately he went straight to a door in the back that led to the bathroom, small bag in hand, aiming to get there first- the second he was in the door was locked and he quickly began his routine.

Face washed, teeth cleaned, a bit of sprucing up to look presentable, fresh clothes he had reserved for this day swapped for the nightwear and his shoulder length light blonde hair tied back with a rubber band into a bun. Within a few minutes he was done, out and then with a clap- feeling more like his usual self he repeated what their escort had said: “Get up night owls! Today's the day we get this over with.”

And was promptly moving for the exit as he spoke those very words. Hitting the sides of the bunk bed where people lay to really rouse them from the depths of REM. Uncaring, for once, if it was rude. After all, it wasn't like they had a choice. They had a schedule to stick too- he'd be damned if he would let people in the suits come knocking and asking why the special guests were dilly-dallying and not where they needed to be.

Punctuation had been drilled into him before his mom and her subordinates had gotten their hands on him.

Maybe the others would confuse it for excitement. The observant would notice there wasn't a spark of joy in his eyes or a full smile on his face. Ikaika was being factual, even if he sounded energetic for a morning task. It was just how he was- no matter the time or day- he had been roused in the dead of night to tear down a camp with his father and traveling buddies just to switch locations. This was just like that. A part of the process. His mother had told him to be punctual, as someone that had fled the city even if It was at the behest of his elders and he had been a kid- the system wouldn't care to give him a favor.

Madame Shay-- Mom, only had so much sway and influence before she had to bend the knee to her superiors too. She had done a lot so far, enough to earn the right for him to at least call her by her parental title.

The last thing he would do was forgo her warning.

‘In the system you are a Rebel, and former Rebels get watched carefully due to past acts of extremism. Even if you have me backing you, today is going to make things official.’

He wanted to get this show done, so he could move on to whatever the hell else lay in wait.

Mentions: BriiAngelic simj26 The One Eyed Bandit Haze- Nova Anyw

Interactions: n/a

 

[Haze-]

Nishida Yūko
Shinya Square; Bijulī​

Versum I.
LONGINUS x DEADBRAND

---

---

There was a sound, banging on a soft, matted surface. Then came the reverberations of that same fistbump traveling on her side of the bunk.

“Shut the hell up, Kiri…I’ll...fucking kill you…” — She was sleep-talking. Half-lidded, unfocused eyes barely cracking open.

Finally, she came to her senses, slithering over like a snake shedding skin (the bedsheets, in this case) to the edge of the bed. Pulling out a black spear from under the sheets, as if a magician’s hat trick, then punching a peep-hole with it on the roof of the bottom floor. Either trying to skewer Ika down there on his way to the exit, or simply too groggy to care about property damage. Either way,

She was awake.

Again, utterly regretting the fact that she was. With no idea of how many hours of sleep she had, or whether, really, if she had caught a wink of sleep at all. She slept poorly, habitually, but this bus ride in particular had seen her sleeping even worse than ever before. Yūko had their rockstar to thank for that.

It took some restraint not to break that guitar over her head these days of travel; she needed them all nice and presentable after all, not in a wheel chair.

Yuuko sat there waiting for the blurred haze in her eyes to clear out, her vision only seeming to enter at a slant at the bottom of her eyes. As if a screening, slowly beginning to swipe up. Even now, half awake, she wore a deep scowl. She looked on at the slumped hand trembling idly by her side, watching the play of convulsing muscle, and skin slashed with white scarring. Glaring at it, as if the fault of that weakness was all on her tendons.

It was partially that, and the drugs too. They made her weak, shaky. But without them, she was even weaker, shakier. Slow. Even still, she reached out to her open bag and popped the pills open, crunched a few between her teeth. She could afford slow— but not weaker, not shakier.

She sighed.

Frustration, she’d told herself, was a weakness in of itself. She had to get rid of it.

Yuuko ambled out of the bus, a plastic cup half-empty with water in her hand and a black spear in her back, head craned up, gargling with the toothbrush still dangling from the corners of her mouth. First thing she did after getting off the tram was shoulder-checking Ika — “Mgh—ove.” — Yuko snarled, gurgling out the words through the water in her mouth, before projectile-hawking a mix of toothpaste and spit at his feet— making damn sure the tip of his boots caught the brunt of the splash zone.

It was her way of saying ‘Good Morning.’ Her friendliest way of doing so, too.

She wiped toothpaste from the corner of her mouth, sneering at him — “You awake, night owl?” — Rabid. Moreso today that she was running on barely any sleep. The only thing she had shown them was hatred and animosity, impartially, not sparing a soul in that bus. She let them know firsthand that the experience with her was going to be everything but magical, unlike anything they might’ve expected from the job.

It was all the better for her if their workplace relationship was nothing but confrontational, after all. She'd have an excuse for fighting if they threw the first punch.

One hand tucked to her pockets, the other limping at her side, a golden, stinging glare shot around. The city itself seemed as every bit redundant as it always was. How empty, and how utterly packed it was. Shadows on tall buildings swelling up, monotously on amble, coming down, settling at a sharp line once the sun finally caught them. It was a fine day.

It was the same day as ever, rather.

She stood there wondering something, sheepishly running shaky, ticking fingers up the pole of the Longinus. Feeling the blunted spikes slip into her fingers, biting down a smile. Was it Aptitude Test season when that thing attacked her home?

It was the great loom of the city, after all, how things always went. A good catastrophe always created a good Magical Girl. Usually.

Constantly weaving unknowing fools together into woolen war machines, ‘for the greater good’. Half-done tapestries full of ragged knots, sent to be unwoven by the Parasites. A tragic, sorry tale it was. Not that she cared at all. So long as they were knitted into semi-usable weapons for her to take, Yuuko would be content to throw her life away for Elysium.

Whorls of irate potential, like a foul scent fanning up to the skies. Thousands of fledglings throwing open their frail wings to take flight for the first time. The firmament itself blackened by their shadows. She could smell it. And she could bet that the Parasites could smell it too, under the shade of a thousand-fold wings. A beacon of seed energy in the sky, a promising feast, good enough of a lure for all of them.

It was sad in a way. Even if things didn’t go bad here, the Mahou who passed were sure to turn into statistics in the near future. She pitied them, in the same way she felt pity for herself the first time she took the serum and spread her wings. She wanted to warn them all; ‘Fly. Far away. Don’t look back.’

But that was just too wishful of a thought, wasn’t it?

She wasn’t one to throw up bad omens under her tongue for others, but she couldn’t help but pray to whatever sadist god was out there listening for this aptitude test not to go as uneventful as planned.

Yuuko wanted a bite of their potential for herself too, truth be told.

Mentions: BriiAngelic simj26 The One Eyed Bandit Nova Anyw
Interactions: The Regal Rper

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ikaika | The Square

Spikes and Fangs seemed extra cranky this morning, but with roomies like Kiri who could blame her?

He didn't let her brutish shove phase him. With how she acted, hell with how some of the people here acted, he felt like he really was the oldest or at least second oldest person on the bus. Not just in age but in mental maturity also.

How many of these guys would behave on the field? What sort of organized chain of command would function if half the guys here were gung-ho and raring to go?

He kept on going following after one arm spikes and scowl until a glance around with his eyes brought them to the ground for a moment and--

-- he could feel her eyes contract into slits over his shoulder. Intangible, invisible to all but him. The air for him at least, grew just a little bit colder. His breath catched, Kelvin dropping into lower Celsius as they both stared down at his new stainless boots.

At least 'stainless’ had applied once.

He had shifted and thought he dodged without looking when she spat in his direction, turns out he was wrong.

Right there on the toe box splattered blue dried toothpaste caked a good chunk of his shoe like he had stepped in a puddle that had splattered mud all over. Flecks of saliva and dry toothpaste dotted the other boot. Leaning forward to inspect, there were even minor flecks of toothpaste that had decorated the hem of not just the low part of his pants where the ankles were shielded slightly from the splash but his left leg at the same area around the ankle also had the same flecks of toothpaste.

His eyes went to Yuko's back. Frustration burned, but he kept moving. With nothing on hand to wipe his shoes of the mess or any water he would have to make do.

The shoes could be cleaned and the stains Yuko had created could be washed, the clothes weren't ruined--

The treasure chest on the chain of gold around his neck shifted.

So you're going to let her just get away with that?

Even with the ambient activities of the Square, every sound paled in comparison to hers.

Twilight rarely spoke, she never really needed to. He didn't know about the others, what their spirits were like. If it was or wasn't the same for those that were naturals, he hadn't a clue. All he knew as he returned from his inspection of his slightly messed up shoes was that he was about to hear his spirit's sentiment in full.

Her sigh carried the weight of a lover drawing up patience.

Your time in the city has made you soft, my love. And I know from your memories beyond the comforts of civility you were much more than that. You should have given her a piece of your mind for acting so rudely.

That would just start trouble, was the obvious answer.

With cool finality and no care whatsoever. Then that would have been her own fault. Not ours. She lacks the presence of one of my own to balance her out, give guidance. Her folly is not our concern. Besides, my king, aren't you upset?

He didn't reply. She didn't add on.

They both knew the answer to that.

If this had happened six or seven years ago, that grin Spiked Fangs had tossed his way would have been eating a straight sharp left hook after they had locked eyes for a good second of measuring each other out.

Instead he had just sighed, let her walk.

If this had been in the Outskirts he would have clocked her right in the jaw, and then followed through without mercy if she proved to have some bite in her bark.

Something gave him the hunch however, doing that is exactly what she wanted. And like his mother had been helping him, he knew how to not fall for Twilight's more 'helpful’ advice.

So when his arm came up and tapped the shoulder of the good arm of Spiked Fangs, it was just to get her attention.

“We need to talk.” Was all he simply said. Then without waiting for a reply, he dove right in. Whether they stopped or kept moving he needed to handle this now. Before Twilight used their transformation to do something herself.

“I wasn't quite happy with what you did back there.” Diving right into things. Speaking low. It didn't matter if they were still walking or had moved to handle this separately. He spoke only they could hear. He let her go almost instantly as soon as they had extra space.

“Word of advice. Don't start things because you want to show off to everyone how tough you are. I don't want to make enemies here. I would advise you to avoid doing the same. I like your spunk, fix the attitude.” And then that was it. He backed away

Mentions: BriiAngelic simj26 The One Eyed Bandit Nova Anyw

Interactions: Haze-

 

[Nova Anyw]

Fontaine
Bijuli, At the Gate​

---

"Today's the day we get this over with."

As the voice went past, Fontaine finally stirred in his bunk. He had to rub at his eyelids just to get them to open... what a trip this had been.

Having dosed himself the night, prior, to get those sweet eight hours of rest, Fontaine had to fight his body to get it to move. He scratched at his arms, yawned, and decided he'd spend just a minute or two admiring his handiwork in the meantime; a small mural of animals, trapped in a box, wrapped in chains, dragged along by a giant snake. He'd spent the trip painting it on the back wall of his bunk, little by little, but maybe the symbolism was too on the nose this time? Eh. Either way, he sure stuck it to whatever poor sap would need to repaint the wall, later. If they ever found it, that is.

While reminiscing on all the details he wished he'd added, Fontaine tugged at the bandana he'd tied around his mouth and nose. He'd finally built up a mouthful of ammonia, and with one exhale, shot it straight into his nostrils.

That worked. That worked really well! Fontaine hacked suddenly, practically throwing himself out into the bus's walkway from the force of his body trying desperately to relieve the discomfort. He was up, though, and that was good enough for now.

Making a mental note to dilute the ammonia next time, Fontaine stumbled his way to the bathroom to freshen up for the morning. He didn't need much, thankfully. Knowing he'd be a mess, now, Fontaine had cleaned himself up last night, preemptively. So, he yanked his bandana down, and picked his artifact out from his mouth to place on the sink beside himself. It'd be a pain to try and brush around it.

It's the big day, today! How does it feel? You don't even need to try anymore, now that you have me.

The voice seemed to travel up from the cube, whispering in dulcet tones. It wrapped around Fontaine's head in breathy giggles that he ignored by having a staring contest with himself in the mirror as he brushed. It knew he wasn't proud of this 'gift'. It had to.

Try to make some friends while you're here, Fonz. The voice continued, stealing the nickname his friends used. Did this monster really think of itself like that?

Fontaine glared down at the cube, which only sparked another short burst of giggles. That's fine, he'd skipped the right molars yesterday. Skipping the left would just balance things out. Cutting his morning routine short (a phenomenon that was becoming quite regular), Fontaine burst from the bathroom, stepping cautiously around the hole 'someone' had left in the floor, and crept his way outside to get some proper sunlight... and maybe some breakfast.

Thankfully, he'd lagged well behind the others, who seemed to be having a less than pleasant chat.

How did every day manage to start like this, with these people?

---

Mentions: BriiAngelic simj26 The One Eyed Bandit The Regal Rper Haze-

 

[simj26]

Yuriko YamadaPatrol duty. It seemed so long ago that she had last been doing that. Almost 30 years now, if she hadn't lost count. The transfer to the department in charge removal of unwanted individuals kept her busy and, mostly, out of menial jobs like these. Days like these, she would have been stationed some place high, with a specific name and face already lined up. Parasite attacks were none of her business, only human prey. Dissidents, traitors, the like. It was, truly, nothing personal. It was simply a job, and that was it.

And she was only happy to do her job. She liked working. Even if there was nothing or no one to split in two, it was something to put her mind into. Settling down and resting was never a want, only a necessity. 40 years of working, and not one day set aside for herself. No, that was inaccurate. If she loved her work, then every day was a day for herself, and she didn't even need to set it aside.

She tightened the belt around her shoulders, and the one across her hips, and double checked the scabbards that hung across her back and her side. Satisfied, she picked her weapons up, one by one, and sheathed them in their respective homes. Whether it was patrol duty, lookout duty, or any kind of duty, there was little excuse to not look good while doing it. She straightened her coat, and brushed it down.

Nearly time for reveille.

Scratch that. The voice of their handler echoed down the hallway of the bus. Just in time for reveille. She settled her simple, white hairband on her head, and pushed her dark locks back from her face. Time to go.

She slid the doors open, and strode out. Despite the eyebags and the growing crow's feet, the woman still looked as good as the day she started to live life the way she wanted to.

The Witch crossed the hallway, and gently pushed her way past the two children that obstructed her path. “Pardon me, excuse me.” Uncomfortably gentle, disorientingly soft.

She brushed her hand over their handler's head, an affectionate gesture, with little else behind it, and offered a smile, with no mirth within it. Practised motions of someone her age. It was better to be ‘nice’ to those around her than to be emotionless, and stoic. They liked her more that way. “Good morning, dear! What's for breakfast today? By the looks of things, the children are, what's the word?” Feigned ignorance, finger on her chin, as if deep in thought. “Hangry?” A silly little portmanteau of the words ‘hungry’ and ‘angry’. Some people were prone to irritation when they haven't eaten. “Anyway, I'll leave them to you, dear. I'll see you and the rest outside. Cramped spaces aren't my style at all.”

With a wave and a swirl of the black river that was her hair, she turned on her heels, and moved down the stairs to the outside of the bus. She took in one deep breath of the world outside. Sweat, trash, food, metal. The scents came and went.

“Oh, don't bother, children.” She waved to the Elysium guards who had straightened up as she appeared. She was never one to stand on ceremony. It was too stifling. As if to make a point, she levelled her eyes on them, until they relaxed their posture, before making her way to the other end of the bus. She leaned against the warm metal, and touched her weapons.

A violet butterfly landed on her shoulder, and they observed the people that were starting to gather, silent and watchful.

Interacted: BriiAngelic The Regal Rper Haze-

 

[ATurei]

SHIMA KIRI
Rocking n' Roll meter: 10%
​

A thousand hammers and devil cries banged the inner side of Kiri’s thick skull when she came awake, or it was just Dream Widow still blasting in her headphones as it had been through the night.

A capable detective could infer a thing strange in that sentence: Kiri was not known to use her headphones in consideration of others at night, her forever medium of choice ever had been the artifact-cum-loudspeaker, whose only volume was max. And that, possibly, in addition to the fact her memory of last night had ended abruptly by way of the dinosaurs’ extinction: with a meteoric bang and blackening ash filling the atmosphere till there was nothing left of intelligent life, should have pointed at a violent interruption of her consciousness, one that might have been followed up with a slightly more subtle and clever scheme of lulling her into beauty sleep by plugging the heavy metal album in her ears.

Kiri, naturally, should not be put in the same sentence with any clever deed.

She did not infer anything from these strange occurrences.

She did not think.

Think not of the past when the future’s in sight!

The last time she uttered those words was when she’d just spontaneously smashed her mom’s car rearview mirror with her fist.

Because all it did was show the past.

It was a violent event, in more ways than one.

Lurching, half rolling, and all the way cascading, Kiri spilled over from the bunkbed’s upper level and hit the floor with a mighty splash. Be like water, like that famous martial artist once said.

Then like a zombie, not in speed--she never did anything slowly unless when doing math or like subjects--but in erratic movements, like an addled party girl with alcohol and drugs in her system, or a magical girl still reeling after being knocked out cold the night before, she went to the bathroom.

Once there, Kiri swallowed her exclusive mouthwash, a product renowned for causing permanent burning damage to users and had been banned for a long time, but one you can still get your hand on through certain avenues. Even without her morning coffee, Kiri jolted awake instantly thanks to the shocking effect of the liquid. Her eyes widened, her gum burning, her hair standing on ends. Not for long. She filled the sink to the brims, overflowed it, then dipped her head in and wrung her hair wet. The masses of hair, brightly gold as sun rays, dried not long after, taking on a texture silky to the touch without a single tangled strand.

Kiri’s body was a freak of nature, the kind to spend her entire day under the sun and still couldn’t get her skin tanned. If there had been an aptitude test for vampires instead of magical girls, she would have passed with flying colors.

So it was her routine: drink the mouthwash then soak her hair. And still somehow maintained a respectable appearance.

“Too long,” the voice without a vocal chord rang next to her ears with a high-pitched hoarse tone. “Too long too long too long! The sun’s blazing, the world’s calling, welcome to the jungle!”

Kiri slapped the floating skull. It smashed against the bathroom wall, whose incorporeal form sadly did not leave a hole. Still, its jaw had been dislodged and the thing--her partner of sorts--had to take time to gather both pieces of its existence into one.

Meanwhile, Kiri marched out of the bathroom, went over to her bed in a flash to grab the guitar fitted with dozens of spikes. The instrument had been put on the overhead compartment haphazardly, the spiky neck half hanging out to add a spicy danger to the nightly experience of whoever slept under her bed.

She changed right there beside the bunk bed, throwing together a slapdash fit that still somehow carried a whiff of a coordinated getup. In the first place, her wardrobes hardly varied enough in style to not fit together. Ripped jeans, tank top, steel-toe boots. A pair of Skullcandy headphones around her neck, prepared for long-ass speeches and briefings that she vaguely remembered being told this day’s work would be full of.

That done, she stormed out of the bus, treating whoever standing in her way like bowling pins, and she a ball of energy.

“SHIMA KIRI GODDESS OF STORMS ENTERING THE FRAY!!”

 

[Roda the Red]

AKIYAMA RINKA
Location: Shinya Square, Bijulī ; Mentions: Ika The Regal Rper Yuko Haze- ; Interactions: Kiri ATurei info here

The sound of the engine turning off was a blissful symphony for Rinka's ears, the hellish journey coming to an end once and for all. It was already bad enough that he'd have to share a narrow space with a bunch of other soldiers, but the melodic atrocities coming out of that girl Kiri made the raven haired young man feel ever so closer to the gates of the Underworld, it was so bad he felt the need to bribe someone from the other deck to switch places with him. Several fun ideas came across his mind during the screeching nights, from breaking that damned guitar on her head, to taping her on the ceiling of the bus, and even the idea of chucking her statuesque frame through the window while the vehicle was still in full motion, it was fortunate that reason trumped in the end.

Rin sat on his bed, his thumb gently sliding across his phone's screen to scroll through today's news, unable to spot anything worth his time besides the aptitude test taking place today, except he was already aware of said event, He was quite literally there aleady. 'Excitement' was quite far from the emotion Rin felt towards their work, he much prefered being on the frontlines, facing parasites head-on with little need to concern over helpless civilians. However, orders were orders, and if he wanted to continue racking up on his monster bodycount without jumping through a thousand hoops, he'd need to stay on Elysium's good side.

High-pitched snoring sounds brought the boy's attention away from his device, a fluffy ball which irradiated a gentle orange hovered over the bed, rotating on its vertical axis. The emotionless void that was Rinka's face helped conceal his emotions towards the adorable creature. He gently grabbed Nemumaru with both hand, the creature slowly opening its eyes in response. "Hmmm...? Mornin' Rin~" It responded in a drowsy tone, ignoring the boy's squishing assault. Rinka could feel his serotonin levels rise as he felt the silky fur against his fingertips, granted this feeling wasn't 'real' per se, given that Nemumaru's body was but a mind trick, but as long as the brain juices flowed, it mattered little. Feeling invigorated now, Rin reached his toothbrush before hopping off from his bed.

His morning grooming routine was not as elaborate as his peers belows. His hair was thick and unruly, forever adamant on keeping its distinct spikey look, he brushed the few bed-tossing tangles with his fingers as he brushed his teeth. By the sounds of it, the annoying ones were already getting a move on, which meant green light for Rin to make his way outside now.

Stopping at his bunk once more, he left his things in his bag before pulling out a new shirt to change into, as well as a military belt and two large bowie knives, small enough to carry around conveniently, large enough to take down sizeable foes without the need to transform. With both weapons properly holstered, he walked down the stairs into the exit, sparing the handler a quick glance.

"...Morning."

And off he went, stepping down from the bus and into the bustle. The sunlight briefly assaulted his senses, before feeling the drowning sensation of being perceived by the masses around him. There were way, WAY too many people for comfort around the square, the boy already wishing for a pair of mole claws to dig a hole with. He sighed, stepping forward and past his peers. Yuko seemed to already be looking for trouble this early, Rin was only thankful he wasn't the target of her bullshit, lest their altercation quickly escalated.

"...You're being too loud...again." Rin spoke to Kiri once he stopped beside her, his words not just a response from her unnecessarily lousy introduction, but a culmination of his simmering irritation with her antics. He then took a few steps away from her, or anyone for that matter. It was a shame he had to stay within range of the group for the time being, his hunger being one of the few things keeping him from leaving for a secluded patroling. All the while, Nemumaru floated behind Rinka with a dopey smile, humming a soothing tune.

coded by archangel_

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Saiua Ito, Bus Station
Relevant: Everyone it's an intro post just read it you worms | Interacted: Nobody​

The wheels on the bus go round and round.

"Round and round..."

Round and round.

"The wheels on the bus go..."

Round and round.

"Round and..."

Round.

Or at least she wished they still would. On and on. Forever. Or at least until they were a few more cities clear of their destination.

The bus had been stopped for minutes now, but Saiua had been awake for hours before that. Her night had been one spent with eyes wide open, fixed upon the rolling black landscape of Sahoe's countryside. She'd spent many nights there, before. Sequestered away in abandoned hamlets and ruined neighborhoods, never illuminated for long and only ever by candlelight. All to escape the state's eyes. So they wouldn't be seen, so they wouldn't be heard, so *she* wouldn't be stuffed onto a bus and driven away to be prodded at and tested and sent off to war.

And yet, here the wheels had taken her.

While the bus's other residents hurried themselves about with their morning routines, Saiua lay and listened. She'd hardly spoke a word to any of them during the trip, but she'd eavesdropped aplenty. The sound of light argumentation was already familiar to her, and she'd put together well enough that the only way she was going to not become a part of it was to stay out of everybody's way in the first place.

So, while the morning had still been young, she'd made sure to take care of whatever scant morning tasks she'd set for herself. Her hair was uncombed and her clothes crumpled, but she'd taken care of what mattered. A set of clean teeth and polished glasses were all she really needed to face the day.

Saiua stirred slowly and carefully. Like a field mouse thrust onto city streets, she tread from her bunk with caution in her steps. Even so many months down the line, she still appreciated just how easily they came to her. Each step blended into the next with a smoothness she'd not felt in years. Some of the fetters of her illness stayed with her- she was still terribly out of shape, and her lungs hardly felt any larger than a toddler's- but the worst of her ailments had long since left her. There was no more blood in her lungs, no more afternoons spent emptying her guts into a basin, and no more pain so inescapable it felt as if it radiated from her very bones themselves.

"Mmm..." Like paint on the wall, a white shadow stirred in Saiua's wake. She had first heard it on the day of her ascension, and was unused to it still. "You are frowning again, my girl~ Always so glum. These ones- The howler and the babysitter and the fiend- you should learn from them, yes?"

Saiua stayed quiet, her eyes only occasionally darting to the serpentine shadow as it lazily writhed forward alongside her. She spoke with it, sometimes, and hand been assured that the experience of a phantom passenger was one common amongst her kind, but endeavored not to address it in public regardless. She'd spent years bed-bound due to a sickness of the body already, and she was hardly keen to see herself jacket-bound for one of the mind next.

There was, deep down, some part of her wanted to heed the spirit's advice. She had hardly spoken with the other Mahou during their trip together, but she had listened aplenty, and equal parts of her felt both admiration and envy for the boisterous laxness with which so many of them carried themselves. So much had changed since that day at the parish, but her spirit was just as meek and diseased as it ever had been.

She was still Saiua Ito at the end of the day, after all. Not a cool rock star or a scrappy rebel. No matter how much her station may have changed, the person in it had not.

"Mmm! You've not taken me to a proper city like this yet, my girl~" The shadow spun around Saiua's feet as she disembarked the bus, a white tongue flicking eagerly across the grass. She tread lightly, just around the edge of Rinka's confrontation with Kiri, and into the small sliver of shelter that the bus's shadow provided from the morning sun. She didn't even offer them a 'Good morning', instead only shivering on the spot. There was a thick winter coat wrapped tight around her, but it still hadn't been enough to fight off the morning chill.

That was one thing that never changed. No matter where she went it was always far too cold. And she wasn't exactly a fan of all of the wide open space, either. The sooner they got back inside, the better.

 

[Haze-]

Nishida Yūko
Shinya Square; Bijulī​

Versum I.
LONGINUS x DEADBRAND

---

---

She stood there, impassive.

Following the hopping step of a pigeon with her eyes, watching it rest under a building’s tall shadow, on the lower edge, as if it had one talon readily out of the threshold, waiting on something. Struggling to take up wing under the pressure of morn’s early, horridly overbearing, light. Taking a rest from the pigeon equivalent to a marathon, maybe. Sheepishly, watching it pick up and fly high over dingy warrens and nondescript duck-holes, eyes coming down as he shed a feather for her.

It reminded her of the way Keiichi would slap her hand away from his wrist and go chasing after hordes of those flying rats whenever they went out to buy groceries, groaning and grunting at them while she watched them scurry away. Play-pretending; he was the ‘Big Evil Parasite’, he’d say. The doves were the fleeing crowd, beating their wings as hard as they could and cooing in fear in his wake.

She was the ‘Super Strong Mahou’, come to save the pigeon’s day, picking up the terrible monster in her arms and driving him away to go buy greens and half-stale bread. Her little brother, the big bad monster.

The super strong magical girl wasn’t there that day, was she?

“Haw?“ — Yuuko’s attention drifted to her shoulder, where she glared at the hand groping it the same way she glared at dog shit on the sidewalk. It was that guy again, octopus guy, whatever his name was. She didn’t turn to look at him, only shooting him a glance off a side-eye and leaning her head back, pretending to listen. She thought she’d made the message very clear, crystal clear, on the squeaky surface of his sports— that was her get-back for waking her up early, knowing that none of them had slept well to begin with.

Did he like being spat on or something?

“Fix my attitude…” — She parroted, tapping the spear arrhythmically on her good shoulder, ambling down his way while sucking her teeth— clicking her tongue. Glaring at his back turned to her, unwinking, unkindly thoughts simmered behind her eyes. 'Don’t go making enemies, tough gal', was the only thing her ears processed.

A dull, middle-schooler threat and half-a-warning. Same way her dad would frown, point and clap the salad tongs in her face like a crab-claw whenever she tried to grab a bite of the food while he was cooking. A simple 'back off' — 'How mature…'

Something about it pissed her off. Inexplicably so.

Her grip tightened around the spear, causing a guttural, monstrous sound to ripple and growl throughout the inner hollows of the blackened spine. Things such as 'killing intent' weren’t like in the movies; there was no tingly sensation of tiny follicles shriveling up behind the neck, no warning goosebumps. 'Killer intent’, the not-so-bastardized version of it, was simply instinctual uncertainty— a wall that came up when face to face with something there was no reasoning with. Dramatic suspense, a choking sensation. An encounter with a wild bear. A parasite. Even the feeling of shrinking into your seat at the theater while the violin hung on a chord, the killer’s hand hovering over the shower curtain on the big screen.

Or, in Ika’s case, the thumping steps of the blonde punk currently walking down his way with a spear over her shoulder. The look of a rabid, mad dog in her eyes.

There was no telling what went on under that unflinching glare she was shooting at his neck— “Ey, Takoyaki.” — A pink red, slimy tendril shot out from one of the heads of the spear with a throaty chitter, latching, hooking onto Ika's shoulder and pulling back to spin him around. Drooping, slithering across his pant leg and his toothpaste-covered sports, before slingshoting back into the spear. Squeaky clean now, his boots, if only a bit slimy.

He’d laid hands on her first. It was only fair if she did the same, wasn’t it?

“Do we have a problem, hm?” — She drawled, a dulcet, imposed high-pitch in her tone. Leaning into him with the spear still tapping a beat on her shoulder — “About my attitude, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t wanna hurt your feelings again— I’m here to make people feel safe n’ happy, y’know? I’m a magical girl after all…” — Yuuko sprung up, pacing about him like a shark tentatively circling red waters, or a batter looking for a pitch to nestle their swing. Looking at the top of Ika’s head as if it were a good place to do so.

The silence hung as she thought things over, picking at the petals of a flower— ‘Bash Ika’s skull in.’ or ‘Bash it not.’ — until,

“SHIMA KIRI GODDESS OF STORMS ENTERING THE FRAY!!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP DAMNIT!” — It was on instinct.

A flash of black, parasitic metal made a straight line towards the rockstar, propelled like a rocket from Yuuko’s hand. And there was another hole made in the poor bus, just between Kiri, Sauia and, worse of all, Rinka. She stared at him horrified for half-a-fraction of a second, her usually stern face twisting with emotion.

It was the same, pained look she’d been giving him since their eyes crossed from the first time in…what, five years? Yuuko acted different in front of him, that much everyone had seen. Pretending that they hadn’t changed since high-school, that they could still bump shoulders and act normal with each other. She figured he knew just as well as her how much they’ve changed since then; there was something missing.

It didn’t feel right.

He was her last remaining tether to reality, the one and only reminder that she was still Nishida Yuuko, method acting as the Mahou Shoujo that had arrived too late — “Tch…!” — She coughed up something dry, burning in her lungs, turning her eyes in shame from him. Her fingers snapped at her side, and a tendril came shooting out of the spear to wrap around Yuuko’s hand.

She didn’t even bother to have it reel back, she just pulled and dragged the spear along the ground, completely nulling Ikaika's existence from her mind as she ambled over to her post.

Interactions: The Regal Rper Roda the Red The One Eyed Bandit ATurei

 

[Coyote Hart]

Bijulī

Moscow Bierstadt

Did I wanna be a magical girl?

Today, some poor chump and their parents were going to have their lives completely changed. They would have to see whether it was marred with heartbreak at the prospect that mama's boy would constantly see his life in danger, or whether societal brainwashing would prevail and some kid would sink into the delusion of them being a hero. While Moscow was grateful that he was not in some sort of dangerous mission, he also didn't want to see the horrors of modern day society up close.

The beds on the bus were surprisingly comfortable. Moscow had never ridden a sleeper bus or anything similar, but if he plugged his ears to drown out the constant hum of the engine, and ignored the bumps in the road, sleeping wasn't as unrealistic as he thought. In fact, he had been stirred awake by the purple haired woman. For a brief moment, Moscow grumbled something vulgar before composing himself and crawling out of bed. He was a bit slower than the others in packing up, partially because he had thought it a good idea the night before to scatter the contents of his backpack onto his bed. By the time that he was done packing, most of the others had already left the bus, and Moscow lagged behind, along with a guy who was practically snuggled in his hoodie, a bandana covering most of the features of his face.

"

Good mornin'!

" Moscow said to the boy. The redhead let out a wide-mouthed yawn and ruffled his own hair. Thank goodness breakfast was going to be served. Moscow could really use a cup of morning joe. He turned to the hoodied boy, extending an offer for a fist bump, "

I don't think I've seen you around. Name's Moscow. Let's get along, kay? And not be like those two up there already fighting this early in the morning.

"

Mischieviously though, in the back of his mind, Moscow prepared to juke out the boy with the fist bump. Perhaps if the boy returned his fist bump Moscow would give him a high five? Or, rather than a turkey, maybe a snail this time?

Code By Nano

Interactions: Nova Anyw

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Tonalli Ayala || Artificial Mahou

• 
  
  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  Rinka ( Roda the Red ), Yuko ( Haze- )
  
  

  ~ Bijulī // The Gates ~
  
  Nalli’s CS || That That
  
  There was a distinct possibility she was the one who got the best sleep out of any of them. The bus ride was one of the more comfortable places she’d gotten to sleep in the last two years. Besides this was her first chance to show off the powers her badass bangle gave her. She kicked her feet from her space on the upper bunk waiting until most people had started clearing out before kicking her way off her bed landing with confidence and a twirl.
  
  If she had to wait until everyone was done with their morning routines she would go mad. Instead she snuck to their kitchenette and took a cup filled with water sneaking back to someone else’s bunk. She dipped her comb into it using the water to help fix her hair up into its usual style of two pigtails. Fixing her way around the others she poured the water down the kitchen sink taking the opportunity to brush her teeth as well, uncaring of anyone else’s objections. She decided rather than use the unexpecting persons bed as a changing booth she should at least change
  in her own. She pulled the curtains back and managed to change with some difficulty in the enclosed space.
  
  Well at least she didn’t need to line up for the bathroom like the old timers. She tossed her poor excuse for pjs under the pillow with no grace as her whole bed became a crumple of pillow clothes and sheets. She heard some of the other Mahou Shoujo lining their way out of the bus and didn’t want to be left behind simply for being able to sleep in.
  
  “Hey hey hey wait for me! Geez you guys never heard a civilities?”
  
  She complained despite knowing damn well she’d have left them behind too if she made out lucky enough to get to the bathroom first. She grabbed the bag she had brought filled with snacks and papers to draw and slung it over her back before cheerfully leaving off the bus just in time to see a spear land through the side after the sound of a shout.
  
  “What the fuck? If you want a throw down you gotta give out a warning!”
  
  She pointed to the tallest mousy looking fella she could find.
  
  “You! You can be the ref! HEY WHO THREW THE SPEAR LETS FIGHT!”
  
  

 

[BriiAngelic]

​

Fashion Icon


There was little surprise that the Elysium Project would use them regardless of their various differing personalities. Noy was an agent brought in to score and keep the Mahou in line. This group had more varied origins then their usual teams would so it was in everyone’s best interest to keep a peacekeeper with them at all times. Yet she had already been failing at this job when the spear hit the side of the bus. Well this gave a good segway into keeping them here.

Bijulī was in drastic need for more Mahou until their new batch were properly raised.

With this batch giving neat little reasons for them being unable to leave it was just a win-win situation.

She did as she was directed. She observed.

The two most outgoing ones were loud. They might have been on the younger side. A rock-n-roll rebel and a pre-teen brat. They were unlikely to be an issue and would be the most easy to keep in the limelight.

Then there were the confident ones. The stone cold punk girl who was quick to retaliate. The lax my-pace man who seemed to be just as easy to be confrontational. The older woman with the air of control and poise. They would be the toss ups. If they were given enough incentive they may play nice.

But the quiet ones seemed to be a mixed bag. There was younger man with sleep in his posture and friendly words. One who spoke of the volume being too high for him. Another woman who looked as though she would rather still be in bed. A lad who seemed to purposely separate himself. Plus the other outliers. All of which could be either the easiest to wrap into their wishes or the worst.

Either way, she kept the relevant data close as she made quick notes on her dataslate containing their profiles.

With initial judgments made she walked over to the most confident woman.

Yuriko Yamada.

She noted the other woman was watching over people as well. With a nod of her head she approached the other.

“Miss Yamada, Good morning. May I ask that you leave the bus with me? The recent slam into means that breakfast will be in town.”

Interacting with Directly:
Yuriko simj26

Mentions all others:
The One Eyed Bandit Coyote Hart Haze- ATurei Roda the Red Nova Anyw The Regal Rper ​

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Guanyu Wang || Natural Mahou

• 
  
  ~ Bijulī // The Gates ~
  
  Guanyu's CS || On'n'On
  
  Having to deal with the whims of children should be illegal after ten pm. Sure he could understand theoretically that few lived to his age but considering they literally had to use force to get one of them to shut up he was more than ready to get rid of a few of them by chucking them off the bus before they even made it to Bijulī. The fact that there was like a single person even remotely close to his age on the goddamn bus would be less annoying if not for the little gremlins that were here.
  
  Given that there was one bathroom on this piece of junk and about 20 people housed on this godforsaken vehicle he decided the best thing to do was break night and get as ready as he could to pile off when they were released. He counted this as a net positive considering before they could even all get off the bus there was already damage to it. Yeah that was something that was definitely going on someone’s record.
  
  As soon as he heard the fact that there would be no breakfast he scrambled off the bus just to find what was probably the start of an actual confrontation. While usually he didn’t mind the antics of children during the usual nine to five he didn’t usually have to be in such close proximity to them for this long. He longed for a croissant and some eggs. If they were going to make him spend days on the damn bus then they damn well better feed them soon. Considering some of these punks had way too much energy he figured it was fine to just let them rock while everyone sane left them behind.
  
  He'd done this song and dance enough times to know that a real issue would only be stopped if it became inconvenient to the project. The onlookers of the shopping district were far enough that the rep could stop any far off damage from happening. Probably. But that was an issue for him only after he'd had his food, shower, and a proper sense of quiet without the lil rocker for at least twenty minutes.
  
  He walked up to the one who seemed most likely to be least involved and reached out to pat her on the head as he spoke.
  
  “Alright kid, which of these fuckers is trying to make the bus into fireworks and which are going to get dragged to get some goddamn food.”
  

  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  Saiua ( The One Eyed Bandit )
  
  

 

[Nova Anyw]

Fontaine
Bijulī, Still at the Gates​

---

The city looked so strange up close, Fontaine thought as he gazed passively at the horizon of rooftops and walls before himself. He'd have to try and recreate it later, somewhere. It was a great distraction from the bickering, until he heard someone speaking behind himself, which could serve just as well for that. Fontaine was not an anti-social individual, but this group sure drove him to seem like one...

"Hey." Fontaine replied, turning to Moscow, and then looking up to make eye contact. Each movement made paper and metal crinkle under his paint-stained sweater. Goodness knows how many chemistry pages and aerosol cans he'd packed for this trip. Thankfully, Moscow seemed to have more composure than the others around the bus. It made talking easier to think the other party wasn't so volatile as some of the others, here.

"I-" He started to reply, having to shove the cube in his mouth to one side to get the words out properly, "-I'm Fontaine. Spent most of the trip in my bunk, sorry. I hope we get along. That'd beat... this." While he spoke, Fontaine motioned with his head to the scuffle beside them and sighed. In fact, that was all he ever seemed to do was breathe outward.

It took a few seconds, but eventually he realized Moscow's fist was extended in his direction. It wasn't a huge deal, but Fontaine heard that obnoxious giggle again when his attention snapped back to reality, proper, and it made him stiffen up somewhat, self-conscious about the matter. Quickly, after his shoulders rose, Fontaine thrust out his fist to meet Moscow halfway, exposing the dried paints on his knuckles and wrist from the recent masterpiece he'd left in his bunk.

Right before the fists connected, a loud scream pierced the air. And Fontaine's eardrums. Courtesy of Shima Kiri, of course. The words were hardly distinguishable, even, but it was enough sheer volume to get Fontaine to snap to the scene, his fist froze midair, unattended to. He was just in time to witness the bus being given an extra porthole, too. Fontaine flinched, and winced, and waited a few seconds in tense silence to determine if he'd have to dive for cover.

No, not yet. Fontaine turned back to Moscow, startled, only to realize he'd been scammed out of his fist bump, too. After all this, he'd been pranked.

It might have been funny, several seconds ago, but now Fontaine was just disappointed. Moscow watched as his gaze sank slowly from their hands to the pavement. "I really wish I could figure out Chlorine..." he mumbled under his breath.

---

Interactions: Coyote Hart

 

[Roda the Red]

AKIYAMA RINKA
Location: Shinya Square, Bijulī ; Mentions: - ; Interactions: Yuko Haze- Tonalli BriiAngelic

Immediately after voicing his annoyance, Rinka's danger sense sent an electric current throughout his body. An unwavering hand reached for one of his holstered blades, but the silver sheen remained concealed by its polymer sheath. His eyes trailed the flying projectile, not quite close enough to interpret it as an aggression towards him. His eyes traced the imaginary line from the point of impact to its source. Yuko. An unsurprising outburst, but it didn't make it any less irritating.

As she approached to retrieve her weapon, the black-haired hunter remained silent, pondering just what happened to the girl he knew all those years back, of the handful he'd be willing to call his friend without skipping a beat. As the spear tip scratched the ground loudly, they crossed paths once more. Rin wanted to speak up once more, his frustration reaching levels truly unnecessary for this time of day, the he itched to berate. "...Hey." He called out to the feisty gal, the very first time in half a decade, in fact. Venomous words danced inside his throat, he wasteful antics easily getting on his nerves. But echoes of happier times, and flashes of a gentler girl, pushed those words down his gullet. "Let's hope they don't serve any natto."

They had become different people now, but it didn't hurt to aknowledge the past.

It was one banshee after the other. Rin turned to the annoying screaming child, covering his ear in discomfort. "Cut that out." He stared down at the new arrival, his icy blue eyes devoid of warmth. "Stop wasting your energy like that, we have a job to do later."

He didn't want any more fuel being thrown at the hissy princess.

coded by archangel_

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Saiua Ito, Bus Station
Relevant: All | Interacted: BriiAngelic ​

"Fweh!?" The first thing that any of the assembled Mahou heard out of Saiua's mouth was a scream. She reacted to the sight of it first. A blur of speeding danger, headed just close enough to where she stood to send her reeling, squealing, and halfway leaping out of her skin. By the time the spear had torn into the bus's metal skin, Saiua had already scrambled far away, tripped over her feet, and gone tumbling out across the pavement into the morning sun.

'What's wrong with these people!?' Was what she wanted to say, but it remained no more than a thought, brushed away alongside the dust and crumbs of pavement which had stuck themselves to her clothing after her scuffle with the ground. She huffed, straightening her glasses. There went any hopes she'd had of staying anonymous throughout this whole ordeal. Even if the other Mahou were merciful enough to not accost her after that, her face was known now, forever tied to the name of 'Screaming Freak Girl', or whatever other synonym they were all surely weaving for her in their heads.

Or maybe not. Just about everybody was yelling at the moment, after all, so maybe there was still some hope left for her. Picking fights and slinging one-liners was certainly more memorable than just screaming like an idiot, after all... If she was lucky, the memory of her would be drowned out by them, alongside all the other going-ons of the day.

If she was lucky.

Luck, though, had never been something that had been on her side. Or maybe that was a matter of perspective. For most, being approached by a handsome, tall blonde man like Guanyu would have been enough to write off the whole day as a success. For Saiua Ito, it was just another thing to scream at.

The moment the man's head fell upon her head, Saiua's body immediately sprung into action. Screaming all the while, her hands locked around the offending arm with all the pressure of an iron vice and wrenched him clear over her shoulder.

"Sor-"

There was a moment of pure, unrestrained dread as she watched the man fall across her vision, and an apology was already spilling out of her mouth before he'd even hit the ground.

"-ry!" She dropped to her knees in sync with his tumble through the air, attempting to shake him back to life as soon as he hit the pavement. "I'm sorry! Sir! Please! I'm so stupid! I'm sorry!" Saiua's voice had started to tremble. Her eyes were dry, but in every other sense of the word the girl was in shambles.

"S-sir! Please! Don't die! Are you okay!? Sir! Please!"

 

[Coyote Hart]

Bijulī

Moscow Bierstadt

Did I really wanna be a magical girl?

"

Snail!

" Moscow flashed a peace sign, which he flung past Fontaine's fist so that Moscow's fingers were the antenna of the snail and Fontaine's fist was the shell. But as quickly as Moscow's jubilation at his prank came, it vanished in an instant as a howl and the screech of metal on metal made Moscow snap his attention towards the bus. His hand froze in midair, maintaining that snail shape as he watched the bus get a new asshole torn into it.


Moscow could only sigh in disappointment. What did the Elysium Project think would happen when they entrusted humanity to the hands of kids? There was no good ending ever in the horizon. Moscow had no idea what the boy meant by chlorine, but Moscow shared the sentiment of the tone, "

We have children starving in Quin and instead we are investing in chuunis and homicidal freaks that blow up busses. What a world we live in.

"


Moscow's hand fell to his side in sync with Fontaine. He didn't like this. First impressions were the most important. He had to keep up a countenance, or at least a facade, of cheer. In that moment, Moscow decided that something as little as the bus being destroyed wasn't going to ruin his mood. He decided that he was going to do his best to cheer Fontaine's mood up.


"

So... Fontaine... what do you think about... ummm... pancakes?

" Moscow asked just as one of the other magical girls practically suplexed Guanyu and slammed him onto the ground. Honestly he deserved it for patting someone's head without their permission. Moscow sighed, "

Looks like this is going to a rather interesting day. Fontaine, it seems like we're probably the only two normal people here. And I promise you I'm normal. No shoes in the house, no pineapple on pizza, and cereal before the coffee creamer. All that good stuff.

"

Code By Nano

Nova Anyw

 

[simj26]

Yuriko Yamada“Breakfast…” She had to admit, she never was one for food. Whatever they gave her, she ate. When she started out, it was tasteless gruel, prepared for the masses. When she finally started claiming blood and bones, it was fluffy, scrambled eggs and sausages, finely prepared for their star murderer. She vastly preferred the latter kind, but food was never an important part of her day. It was fuel for her body, and it functioned as such. But MS like her had to keep up appearances. Even MS like her that had nothing to do with the Parasites. The people should look upon them in awe. They are the stars that the people gaze upon as idols. Or so she was told by her mentors.

And why not? She could afford the expenses. Even if she wasn't interested in food, she still vastly preferred to have it well prepared, well seasoned, and well served.

“Very well, dear. Lead the way! I hope this breakfast will be as wondrous as you make it out to be.” She started forwards, paused, then patted the other woman's shoulder.

“You'll forgive me for stepping away for a moment. I simply cannot stand the misconduct the darling children are exhibiting right now.” Though the words were delivered as if they were a suggestion, the emptiness in her eyes betrayed that they were instructions. She would not be told no.

She strode over towards the retreating girl and her spear that trailed along behind her. She raised her foot, and, very carefully, stepped onto the shaft of the weapon, halting it in its tracks. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“Now, now. Hurling weapons to and fro, I believe, is unbecoming of this world's greatest defenders.” She leaned forwards, one hand poised on her hip in an infuriatingly coy posture, resting her weight onto the spear, further depriving it of further movement as it attempted to drag away from her. “How about we all calm down–” she paused as another shrieking cry cut her off. The perpetrator’s judo throw was perfectly executed, but she could stand to improve her bedside manners. Apologies weren't needed. Especially not as many times as she was delivering them. “How about we all calm down, and settle for some breakfast first? Then we'll see if I can't kill the misbehaving ones.”

Not quite a joke. Not quite a threat. She didn't mean what she said, but she meant every single word. Cancelled out. Empty. She would do it. But she wouldn't really do it. Equal. 0. Neither here nor there.

Her foot raised from the spear, snaked underneath it, and kicked it up into her already outstretched hand. Before it could settle properly in her hand, it was already launched straight back at its owner. “It's only polite to pick up after yourself!” Sweet, and Empty, the voice.

“Come now, dears!” She called to the rest, as she returned to her earlier companion's side. “We shouldn't dally any further. And do pick yourself up from the floor, darling, it’s dirty down there," she directed this particular stab at the man that was sprawled across the ground.

Interacted:
Everyone in earshot thanks
Specifically BriiAngelic Haze-

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ikaika | The Square

A cool, warm, slimy appendage wrapped around his wrist and forcefully, things whirled as he found himself facing Yuko once more. And when his eyes found the retreating thing that had caught him, his eyes widened, lips opened, features shifting into abhorrence.

Disgusting, was what he might have said, if he hadn't been so surprised by the tongue.

He couldn't physically recoil fast enough from the darting tongue of the…spear, even as he felt it trail the tongue over his very shoes to see them covered in glistening thin slime.

Ikaika stared at the new shoes, a rarity in his old life, with a degree of disappointment and a smoldering touch of anger.

This was why he couldn't have nice things. Something always happened to make them feel scuffed up. Even though he had been hearing for a few years, nice things never really got old when most of your childhood had been spent living essentially on the streets. There became a newfound sense of appreciation for what most took for granted.

It was clear his views weren't shared with the girl though.

Truly, this group was a mess. And that thought was reinforced by the fragile looking girl judo flipping the older man that had approached her.

Wiping everyone here into shape would be a task-- and yet it seemed, the attractive older female in the group had managed to pick on the mental signal that Ikaika had been thinking as his eyes moved from the girl on the ground next to her befuddled acquaintance, to the mistress in the coat talking to Yuko.

The treasure chest shifted, pulsed, and Twilight said: I don't like that one, hot whisper in his ear. And his eyes couldn't help but focus on the one she spoke of in particular.

When his eyes turned to look at the chibi-formed cephalopod he saw the way her single visible pupil dilated, slits, star like irises staring not at Yuko, but at the elder Mistress.

If you were to allow me to take the reins, perhaps I could show her just what a real misbehaving child looks like. Maybe teach the other girl a lesson in proper behavior and respect. In mirth yet tingled with the seasonings of contempt. I find it…irritating, when you let someone like that go without showing them they have no place to treat you such a way, my King.

It wasn't ‘letting’ anyone push him around, just because he wasn't starting a fight with a potential team mate. If anything, he was certain Spikes over there wanted a fight--

Then give it to her! came his partner’s pleading, whining cry.

If she wants a fight give her a fight!

To which he merely gently pushed Twilight aside from his face. Much to her pouting protest.

“The Miss has a point, we shouldn't be wasting time.” He added to what the long haired Mistress said as he passed her and Yuko both, the thought crossing his mind to check her. A whispering nagging thought to shoulder bump her, shove her as he passed--

He forced it down.

Sidestepped the older woman and Spikes completely. Ignoring Yuko entirely and giving the older Miss a polite nod in appreciation. Whether she would understand that mattered little to him honestly.

“You really don't need to be worried over a minor flip like that either ma’am” because what else was he supposed to call anyone whose name he wasn't familiar with. “He's fine, see? He's picking himself up already.” Nonchalant and not bothered in the slightest considering Saiua hadn't stabbed the man after flipping him, to Ikaika the overreaction was just that, an overreaction. He gestured at Guanyu, who likely was stirring from the assault, and also patted the fragile lass’ head. A simple gently pat, hair ruffling lightly as he did it. Uncertain what the correct move in this social interaction was.

Mentions: BriiAngelic simj26 Nova Anyw Roda the Red

Interactions: Haze- simj26 The One Eyed Bandit

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Guanyu Wang || Natural Mahou

• 
  
  ~ Bijulī // The Gates ~
  
  Guanyu's CS || Persona (FES)
  
  
  The first thought he had was probably akin to OW or What the Fuck. That said the immediate next thought had to be really? He would manage to select the one kid to judo throw him on sight. Hell he was almost proud of her, in a you’re gotta be a little badass one day aren’t you kid way. Nevertheless the sentiment would have to wait considering he was the one on the floor.
  
  “Geez Kid, you could have just said fuck off like a normal person. Nice strength though betcha you eat parasites for breakfast.”
  
  Right breakfast. He still wanted breakfast and was still mildly irritated at the noise of the yappi chihuahuas that masqueraded as Mahou Shoujo. He looked up from his new place on the floor to see the girl practically collapsed beside him. He forced himself up knowing that was no good for an up and coming Mahou.
  
  “I’m gonna take that as you don’t want breakfast.”
  
  He watched her for a moment realizing the girl had all the instincts and none of the backbone. Not a good combo for her living long. He’d seen kid after kid die and well he supposed that made it his job to try to make sure infantacide didn’t happen on his watch. He brought his knuckles down on her head and rapidly dragged them back and forth.
  
  “Don’t take back your actions. If you're gonna fight someone don’t let them get the upper hand. You’ll die that way! And don’t beat people up because you hate breakfast, that's just weird!”
  
  He brought his head up and looked at the lone other adult with the group. She had a hand of the other kids, and with the sass she carried as she passed he figured any attempt at help would be considered an insult.
  
  

  
  
  Interacting With:
  Saiua ( The One Eyed Bandit )
  
  Mentions:
  Yuriko ( simj26 )
  
  

 

[BriiAngelic]

​

Joy


With little to say and much to observe she nodded deferentially to the woman while silently bringing a hand to her shoulder. That was twice now, a habit then? She wondered if the woman noticed. Some people existed in a way that they paid little mind to what they did. Ultimately they would be tasked to put on a show and if the Mahou were this… personable already then she had no doubt they would draw all eyes.

She waited watching how they might react to the older woman but instead of anything she might expect Yuriko launched the spear back. She grasped at the necklace in her pocket worried this may come to blows and she’d need to quickly transform. She kept her eyes on the others as Yuriko approached her.

“Calming down would be ideal. Mahou who disrupt the ceremony with infighting will be treated as test fodder, assuming they live through the attempt. This is not a threat but a guideline.”

She looked to Yuriko not quite knowing if the other was serious about the murder. Considering what she'd been briefed about on her file she had to assume it was true. Noy decided breakfast would be the one thing that could possibly bring some brevity to the situation.

“Breakfast can be obtained in town stores or provided by the Elysium Project in building Q. There are maybe three or four options provided by the project. Most come with a protein, starch, vegetable or fruit, and milk or water.”

She looked to the Mahou and wondered if encouraging them into town would be the right strategy. If they destroyed the town then what was lined up was more likely to not fall onto the project. She brought out her dataslate and typed out a short message to the project leaving it open enough for Yuriko to look over it if she were inclined to.

Bus sustained damage. Mahou’s time can easily be extended. Breakfast is being offered so some may come to building Q, keep a tight lid on the show. Those going into town may cause issues. Batch is volatile. May require a cleanup crew.

“Would you prefer the project or in town Miss Yamada.”

Interacting with Directly:
Yuriko simj26

​

 

[ATurei]

SHIMA KIRI
Rocking n' Roll meter: 12%
​

“Missed.”

Kiri grinned dangerously at the spear thrower.

Wouldn’t even be an exaggeration to say she had missed by a mile.

Or maybe it was.

Not that anyone could tell the difference.

No matter how close you get to hitting the target, if your foe’s still alive you’ve missed.

Simple as that. What doesn’t kill something will only alert it to fight back.

Immediately from Kiri’s side came the rumble of a roaring engine. The sound of a chainsaw in motion, in vibration. Instinctual response to aggression.

Of course her rigged guitar didn’t come with such a handy function for sawing lumber or pesky zombies. It was just sound effects, courtesy of her partner, the floating black skull who had just arrived at the scene.

Also, she had no right to say she was just returning an act of aggression, her being an annoyance apparently played a key part in the first place.

The spear thrower (what's her name again?) already looked remorseful, albeit not in Kiri’s direction.

Even so.

Even so.

She would not pass up this prime chance at a morning exercise.

Her mind was still aching after last night’s incident. It badly needed some violent rattling.

So she was just gonna treat the spear thrower’s appropriate answer to her bombastic entrance as a challenge to a fight.

Facts: 0 Kiri: 1

And so she raised her guitar, preparing for a charge, drawing air in her lungs for the trademark battle cry.

The black skull by her side was cackling, howling at the top of its metaphorical lungs, “Viva la Victoria!” which was of course neither an attempt at diffusing the situation nor even remotely related to the situation at hand.

A non sequitur.

Just as the frantic cries some distance away--something distinctly unrelated.

She could not help but turn her head. Naturally a curious animal, Kiri was prone to distraction, often turning her head at the least audible changes in her surroundings.

There she saw a man lying on his back (who’s that, a stranger?), and another mahou in her group--author of the frantic cries that had captured her easily misled attention.

It was not at all challenging to discern what had happened between them.

An easily frightened girl. A good-looking brazen man (who’s that again?)

The conclusion popped into Kiri’s head with all her known sensibilities: this girl, too, must be a rebel, and had just enacted her violent response to the oppressive regime of these men and women who called themself supervisors or something similar.

Oh wow: admiration. Could this be the comrade Kiri had long been looking for? Had her quest to overthrow the establishment through finding like-minded individuals, that in having so much fun lately she had almost forgot about, actually made unexpected progress?

The imminent duel with Spear-thrower having vanished from her mind (Goldfish: 1 Kiri: 0), she rushed to timid’s side.

Too bad, it turned out, when she arrived, the dude (seriously, who’s this guy who looked oddly familiar) was alive, rubbing his head quite animatedly.

Nothing a guitar full of spikes couldn’t fix.

She raised the deadly, abominable instrument for a finisher.

What doesn’t kill you may follow up with a second attack.

Just then, a vital word shot through Kiri’s ears, jamming the more excited parts while riling up some many others.

Breakfast.

“Ah, breakfast!” Kiri exclaimed, letting the guitar hit the ground, its spikes dragging on the asphalt.

It definitely wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was saved by the mention of breakfast.

“Meat meat meat meat meat! Let’s get some meat, girl,” she said, dragging the girl up by the collar. “A life of meat! Let us help ourselves to a morning of meat!”

 

[Haze-]

Nishida Yūko
(not) Shinya Square; Bijulī​

Versum I-?.
DEADBRAND x NULL

---

---

What was that girl’s name again? Toenail? Something rhyming along that scheme.

Yuuko hated her travel partners with a burning passion, but she did make sure to at least half-remember their names, their punchable faces. She was loud, brash, and used that annoying pre-teen voice of hers to speak for the integrity of all buses around the world. Ready to fight for the honor of Elysium property.

Had she arrived a moment sooner, Yuuko would’ve taken her up on that. She wasn’t past beating up middle-schoolers for fun. But not now. Not now that she had a great pretense to stand by— ‘Not in front of Rinka.’

“Huuuuh…?” — She drawled, her free arm shakily rising and cracking with a strain as if it were snapping out of rigor mortis, only to scratch the side of her face. Acting clueless, with the smoking gun still dragging by her side — “I wonder who.” — A great illusionist spoke of the fine arts of misdirection once, guiding its assistants like the conductor of an orchestra: ‘Point in some other, random direction. Scream wolf and run while they look off thinking the clouds spell gullible.’

This, once, was Yuuko’s dad pointing an accusatory finger at her whenever the bread basket came up empty overnight. She was an apprentice reenacting the dance.

Toenail was either blind or stupid, thankfully. She could bet her entire nonexistent payroll on the project on her being both, honestly.

Before she could walk away any further, something anchored her. Her head ticked involuntarily at the sound of the woman’s voice. The spear quaked under the pressure, a guttural sound as the fleshy tendrils shot out and wrapped tight around Yuriko’s leg. The choker around her neck felt like she were fitted with a shock collar, heating and sizzling as the green emerald shifted alive. For a split second it did.

‘Not in front of Rinka.’

Yuuko stared off (Longingly? Forlornly? Begrudgingly?), an eye ticking as she squared her jaw, shooting a smile at nothing in particular. Her hand tightened at her side, squeezing the parasite tongue between her fingers. The spear followed suit, snake-tongue sliding its grip away, stretching out and anxiously rapping at the heavy foot still weighing down on the spear, as if trying desperately to tap-out of a chokehold.

Meek. Feigning submission.

Weak.

What a nightmare.

She caught the spear as it flew to her, stepped up to the huddled group. Hands close to her chest and a worried, sorry look in her eye. Turning to Yuriko in particular.

“Oh, Miss, I am so, so sorry! I just get all jumpy whenever I hear loud noises! I just…I truly don’t know what it is. I-Im sorry…” — Her whole body shuddered, genuine tears beginning to well and pour down her eyes as her face scrunched ugly with sudden emotion. Crying and whimpering so hard that she had to stop to wipe the downpour on a sleeve. Her voice barely came through, a ragged, useless whisper. Staggering breath hitching in her chest — “I-It’s just that— hic — all t-those days hiding from those monsters when the raid sirens came on…! All the screeches…t-the screams…I…I…I can’t stand loud noises anymore, Miss…” — Oh, the tragedy — “Y-You all can forgive me right?”

The tears stopped immediately, almost as if on command, as she whipped her head around to look straight into Sauia's eyes. Picking her out of the bunch, for absolutely no reason, to stare her down, wide-eyed with an unwinking, still glare red-rimmed from alligator tears. Black mascara smeared down her cheeks — “Right???”

After an awful long moment of silence, she sprung up. Hopping all cutesy on one foot, striking a pose, while she clapped her hands — “Nice~! I knew you would 🎔~” — That cutesy cadence immediately dropping as she turned to walk away into the city gates. She coughed, wheezed, banged on her chest to stop it. Wiping a trickle of blood from her nose — “Now let’s go get some goddamn breakfast you whimpy little dorks.”

“Hopefully no natto...” — She threw out the words over her shoulder, sheepishly, almost without a thought. Aimed at no one, for all they knew.

“Oi, auntie,” — Mid-step, she stops. A limping left-hand twitching, fingers clamming into a claw, the other jabbing a pinky and twisting it in her ear. Scoffing, chuckling into her following words — “I don’t think I heard that right…”

“Did you say you would kill poor little me for misbehaving? M’awwe~! You’re such a meanie!”

“Don’t get too excited, grandma,” — The spear crackled under her grip, a vein of anger showing on her temple. The parasitic spine crackled and popped like a gunshot going off in her hand, snapping clean in half. Crumbling, drifting like dust in the wind — “You might blow your damn pacemaker.”

“I don’t think you’d get that far anyways.”

She walked off, practically skipping with an odd pep in her step as she hummed and whistled the chorus of a j-rock song from the old times, an earworm she’d caught from her dad’s keepsake records and vinyls. Incomprehensibly calm, as if she hadn’t done or said anything at all.

“We havin' anything good on the menu at Q, ma’? Or is it just the same slop you people always serve?” — She half-yelled, loud enough for their babysitter to hear the question. She didn't care much for Noy replying to her at all.

The girl was a mystery, a loose cannon. That much, surely, Ms. Kasabian must’ve had jotted down in her notes. Since the very moment they put Yuuko on that bus. Since they gave her the serum. Something was wrong with Yuuko, one too many screws loose. She wasn’t too far gone around the bend to be taken as unpredictable; she still took orders…some orders, at least. Only the ones with a promise. A carrot on a stick.

It was truly a wonder of the world how she’d managed to be such an angel inside that bus without tearing it apart mid-way through the ride.

Maybe she was just selectively bipolar. Nice and quiet on wheels; awful and loud on foot.

BriiAngelic The One Eyed Bandit simj26 Roda the Red ATurei The Regal Rper

 

[Nova Anyw]

Fontaine
Bijulī, Still at the Gates​

---

It was difficult, coming to terms with the idea that this was going to be his life. With his back to the others, he missed the sight of his 'team' doing what might be their best at getting along. As if stranded amidst T-Rexes, Fontaine's composure and silence were his saving grace. The shield he wore was the back he turned... That might be a great picture, actually.

Slowly, Fontaine snaked one of his arms up his sleeve, pulling it deeper into the safety of his sweater to record this inspiration on one of the pages he'd tucked away. In the meantime, he lifted his head again. This was his first proper introduction. If anyone, Moscow didn't deserve to be given such a cold shoulder, or a sour attitude. If she hadn't said anything yet, the moment wasn't over, anyways. So, patiently, Fontaine stewed on his newfound acquaintance's remark while the ruckus slowly cooled behind him. This time, his attention wasn't stolen by the noise.

However, Fontaine's left brow rose. Whether Moscow was cracking another joke, or being honest about cereal and creamer, there was no way for him to infer that, yet.

"Sure. Pancakes are alright. They're better when they're thin. Syrup goes farther that way." Fontaine paused for another moment, swapping the cube in his mouth to the opposite side. It clicked against his teeth as it went. "I wouldn't worry about trying to be normal, either. That's gonna be a waste of energy."

With the picture pre-planned, Fontaine's arm wriggled its way to freedom. His fingers barely escaped the tattered cuff, and tapped absently on his own thigh, waiting patiently for something new to do. With his social confidence returning, Fontaine peered back at the others to spot their babysitters.

"I'd bet there's a place in town for pancakes. Anything to get some space for once-" He turned back to Moscow, staring from the corner of his eye, the half of his expression unmasked by the bandana already eased at the idea of peace and quiet, "If I get the okay, you cool with getting breakfast elsewhere? I've still got some change on me from home for it."

Well, that change was the last of his savings. The whispering in his ears admonished him playfully, Don't be so desperate! Coolness is natural, Fonz.

As if. Mahou pay would make this back a hundred-fold. Did he really look that desperate for a moderate friendship? Either way, Fontaine missed Moscow's reply after the spirit yanked his concentration back under the tide. Instead, only assuming the answer was positive (or at the very least, not-negative), he gave a neutral "Mhm" and a nod, and crept towards Noy. He pathed himself as inconspicuously as possible to avoid getting in anyone's way. The last thing he wanted was to give some of these people a reason.

Using Noy as a shield, placed between himself and the warzone ahead, Fontaine tapped at her shoulder. He stretched himself to reach her, not wanting to get any closer than necessary (she was as disturbing as the rest, in her own contained way).

"S'cuse me. Moscow and I are gonna get breakfast in town. We'll be back at the square in time." Fontaine stared up to Noy, meeting her gaze if possible. It was a desperate hope that appearing confident and reliable would help earn him the freedom to leave in peace. He even crossed his arms cooly.

After getting the rundown from his caretaker (how many words were there for a role like this, anyways?), Fontaine gave her another very certain nod, and a thumbs up, before he retraced his steps back towards the side of the bus. Where he gave Moscow the same gestures.

"I'm not well travelled. Mind taking the lead? I'm game for anything. Doesn't have to be pancakes."

---

Interactions: Coyote Hart BriiAngelic