Fantasy Headhunters IC

[Tapfic]

COLAB POST WITH;
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
BittyBobcat
Characters:
Emrie (NPC)
Lan
Jet
Gray
[Strange child]
Tande [Human with Gun]

Location: Rift gates to Someone's house in the human realm

No one did, infact, grab the little bite-y one; despite Emrie’s incredibly reasonable request. The sphinx made a face and glanced up—narrowing his eyes as if to ask Lan if he would, actually, be biting him.

Lan would not, fortunately. He was too busy saving children. Or something along those lines.
And with that settled, Jet passed him by. Oh well—it wasn’t like he didn’t already know the guy was licensed and all (and if Emrie slipped up—what was the worst that could happen? It’s not like there was anyone around to fire him).

The fellow catboy spoke, drawing a red lycanthrope license from his wallet and presenting it. The little Angel followed suit, taking out his own license and holding it outwards as though showing a trophy he had won. Emrie stood slowly, and took both—giving them a once-over and noting a small doodle on the catboy’s. A symbol of needing to be babysat.

“Yeah, yeah—you’re good to go,” he waved one hand (paw? It had beans…) dismissively.
“Just follow your babysitter over there to y'all's rift.”

The babysitter being Jet, of course—no one else there was nearly responsible looking enough to be the esteemed babysitter.

Lycanthrope’s rift had notably fallen into a slight bit of disrepair. Vines curled up along the rusted and cracked metal frame; suffocating the runes carved into the dubiously silver metal. A small pink sticky note tacked to one weed, reading “out of order”.

“He’s not my babysitter,” Gray snapped, tail lashing irately (which it seemed to be doing the majority of the time since he’d gotten it) as he snatched his card back and shoved it back into his wallet where he didn’t have to stare at the sharpied scribble of a stupid cat face anymore. In the same motion, he stepped through the frame.

Lan’s face scrunched at the not at all concerning note. On one hand; out of order usually meant not good. But maybe it meant something else on the surface?
He watched as Gray stepped through.

Was Mr. Fuck You stupid enough to cross into a meat grinder portal? Probably not.
Yeah. “Out of order” had to mean something else on the surface. So it was perfectly fine when Lan stepped through the frame.


Gray had been through his fair share of rifts. Heading through an older one was always a risk—you never knew what kind of weird quirks they’d accumulated under the dust (or whatever “out of order” meant on a Gods-damned rift). He half expected that long-since-familiar split second of cold running down his back, but instead was met with a weird… tingling? Something a bit finer. Like electricity, maybe. Or…

Fucking hell, why did the breach in the laws of time and space have to tickle.

A shiver ran through his ears and down to his tail in a futile attempt to rid himself of the feeling of every tuft of fur on his body being individually poked, but they disappeared quickly as his license kicked in. Gray had to admit, it was nice having normal hearing again. And to not have to keep track of a tail.

He would’ve been a bit happier about it if it hadn’t just occurred to him that he wasn’t quite in the middle of nowhere like he’d hoped. He was in someone’s house. More specifically, right below the worst-placed curtain in the history of the planet. He wrestled it off his face with a glare so sour that the piece of cloth might as well have said some extremely choice words about his sister.

The house was, to say the least, very big. The roof arched, open support-beams criss-crossing far overhead. The dark wood was illuminated only by small, multicolored paper lanterns that sent tinted shadows scattering to the nearby walls.

Actually—upon any kind of inspection at all, the better part of the house was colorful. Positively gaudy purple curtains hung from the windows’ frames, and if the disgustingly, eye-bleedingly bright shade of purple wasn’t insult enough, each of the windows had a small pane of colored glass dangling from the same rod as the monstrosities that could barely be called a curtain. The assaults to anyone with eyes flung shards of a similar color all across the room, in what seemed to be the gayest rays of light physically possible.

Atrocious choices in room decor notwithstanding, the only thing seemingly saved from the dip-dye treatment was the small, round living room table that all-but blocked the view of the kitchen, papers piled high in lopsided stacks only held together with the smallest threads of yarn (which in and of themselves looked almost ready to snap). The only sign of life behind the mutilated corpses of dead trees was the single (and presumably empty) pint of “Matcha green-tea ice cream”.

Redundancies of ice-cream brands aside, the house appeared empty.

The house was not, in fact, empty.

The house was not-empty enough that in the only moment where no one was looking at it, the ice-cream carton vanished, and in its place stood a man no taller than the kitchen counters that framed him, shiny gunmetal grey pistol held in one hand, the other resting on his hip in the absolute spitting image of a irate housewife. His lips were thinned to a scowl.

Meticulously preened hair almost as silver as the weapon he held pooled by his feet in waves, not-quite covering a nasty scar that gouged pale lines into dark skin from the right side of his neck to the crown of his forehead, the carnage only stopped by the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips. “Arii, love—” his voice was far lower than his appearance suggested, the baritone rumbling in a way that almost resembled a growl. “Anyone else I should be aiming at besides the disheveled homeless man and the shorty?”

“I’d actually appreciate not being aimed at at all, if that’s an option.” Gray’s hands sprung up, palms out, in a pose that was an ounce too relaxed to not be commonplace. “Or shot. That one’s also something I prefer to avoid.”

Lan opened his mouth to argue with the name, despite the literal gun pointed vaguely towards his anatomy. Luckily, he still could not talk himself into an early grave via lack of both brain cells, and self preservation instinct.

A head appeared around the bend of one of the stacks of paper, eyes turned orange by afternoon light narrowed slightly. They looked from Lan, to Gray, to the Jet appearing around the corner of the entrance to what appeared to be a greenhouse that sprawled behind them in shades of overlapping greens.

Surprise colored their features, but they grinned lopsidedly. “Tande,” they sang in a tone that could only mean bad things, “Dad’s back.”

 

[Cello.]

Artemis de Vos
Interactions: Tapfic (Lan) Gao (Ren) BittyBobcat (Gray) ScatheAriiasqDrayceon (Jet and Arii) Klown (Arc) FireMaiden (Val) + Tande and Emrie
Location: The Rift
Mood: Pain to oh yay people.
​

Her hands clawed at her throat, tearing the soft skin as blood pooled down in little trickles. Starting to smudge and cling to the dried blood the more she clawed. Pain ricocheted through her entire body, a sob escaping past barely parted lips.

”What do we do?” The plants whispered and shifted with each other, leaves shaking in worry.
”This is the third night in a row.”
”Its the fifth you nimrod.”
”This is not the time.”

A gasp tore from her lips, her legs thrashing against the restraints of her blankets. The plants had gone silent and still, eyes seeming to watch with helplessness. Tears glittered as they slipped from glassy green eyes down her cheeks. Clearing paths down the blood only to be covered by more red. “It hurts,” She whispered meekly, blank eyes staring at the ceiling. Hoping the pain would pass. It was the only thing she could do. Cracks splintered along her neck and arms, the dark room now having a smoky light in it. “Water.” She breathed out through sobs. “I. Need. Water.”

Her legs were free of the blankets and she swung them over the edge of the bed, a new rush of pain tearing through her body. Artemis collapsed to the floor, the wood creaking under her as she curled up into a ball. The cold seeped into her skin, a trail of goosebumps running along her legs. The cracks on her skin seemed to cool, knitting back together. Ok on three she would get back up. Get water and continue on like nothing happened. Go about her day and be normal. Not whatever this was.

One.
Two.
Three.

She took a deep breath and slowly worked her way up into a sitting position. Good good. Keep going. Another deep breath as she grabbed onto the bed, slowly pulling herself up. A fresh wave of nausea crashed over her and it took everything in her not to curl back up on the floor. With shaky steps, she stepped out into the hallway. A rush of cold air, trailing goosebumps down her spine. With a quick look both ways she sunk into the shadows, her mask left in the corner of her room. Camouflage it would be then.

She closed her eyes, willing her skin to take the shades of the wall, moments of precious time wasted trying to get it right. Artemis stuck to the wall, eyes sweeping over the halls. Dont be suspicious. Dont be suspicious. Well… too late. There was a small army of people standing around in the front area. Why were they up so early? Or was it later? How long was she in her room?

Artemis picked at the blood on her neck, a dodge around a wing being shot out, followed by a hiss from the female. With so many people in the room she hoped no one noticed the sound. Good thing no one could see her. She gave herself another handful of moments if she really pushed her power. The throbbing in her head was starting to pound. She slipped into the kitchen, a pained smile on her face. The camouflage faded back into normal and she grasped the counter, her knuckles turning bare white. She slipped a cup from the cabinet and turned on the tap.

Still always amazed that water ran out of it. Once the cup was full, she gulped it down like she would never taste water again. It soothed the burning that lined the outside, which was what she needed. The plant in the corners light purple flowers danced a little bit, shaking with laughter. ”Back here again Artemis? I feel like you just come her to admire me.” Asshole.

“Shut up.” She snarled, a glare at the plant before tipping the cup into the sink. Now someone elses problem. After a bit more struggling and heavy breathing, she slipped back into the shadows, now one of them as she worked her way back to her room when she caught sight of one of the tasks on the board. A FIGHT RING!

OH BOY SHE COULD PUNT A KID! She clapped with glee, quickly moving faster to her room now, the pain ebbing to a dull throb. She needed to get ready. Once she was back in her room, she threw on a new set of clothes, a slick maroon top and tan cargo pants completed with her mask and boots.

She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, the red hair falling in messy waves. Gloves that were forgotten a moment ago were also quickly pulled on, the burns that lined her hands now hidden for the most part besides the pale pink flesh in between the webbing of her fingers. Though she didnt bother to wash off the blood on her throat. Let them see it. Artemis stepped back out of her room, outstretching a hand, the vine shifting around the door handle so it wouldnt open at all. The sole purpose of that plant right now. “Thank you.” She whispered before she was off to the main room again.

Some of the people bouncing around the room earlier were gone and thank god for that. Those who remained were none other than the red balloon, just not as scary, a pretty demon that would look better blond, the angry short angel who reminded her of a toy poodle, big bird, a human-vampire person (?), and a sleep-deprived cat man. She glanced over all of them before speaking in a gruff voice, “Im coming too. You get no choice.”

And so they were off through the woods at least there were roads. She was pretty sure someone would have tripped over the roots of a tree, like feather brains. Though there were lots of trees, which meant alot of voices and trying to soothe them as the party traveled onward. She was already irked by previous events from the morning and the plants did not help at all.

Soon the whispers were turned to her and her emotions.

”Oh god shes angry.”
“Angry. Angry. Angry.”

They earned a glare from Artemis which quickly quieted them and just decided to rustle a little bit. They finally reached the building where glass shards reflected colors upon colors across the area, she flinched back a little bit, trying to avoid catching her reflection. Someone was sleeping in a hot pink chair, which was a mood. Though the barking poodle didnt think so, he had stepped on their tail which caused another recoil from the nature spirit. “Well nicely done.” She responded, eyes sliding over to them then to Emrie, a nod to them. Artemis pulled out her license and showed it to them. She was aloud through.

She would never get used to the feeling of the rift, the tingling that ran down her spine and made the fiery core of her ache. She had appeared in someones house (with horrible taste in colors and decorations might she add). There was a battle with a curtain she almost tore to shreds, but she didnt. LOOK A BIT OF RESPECT. She stepped out and brushed off her pants, only to meet face to face with a gun pointed at feather brain.

“Please shoot him.” She rolled her eyes and laughed, a deep sound that bounced around the large room. Though plants whispered somewhere in the distance and she had to stop herself from straining to hear them. “Ah Arii is that you? Nice to kind of see you.”

 

[Klown]

K L E O
Location: Front Desk
With: Eustace (Caretaker) , Winni [ Tapfic ]

For all the misfortunes that had plagued him that morning in the way unkind coincidences drove the universe, Kleo wouldn’t claim to be having a bad day. Should it have been any day prior, his mood risked taking an irrevocable plunge. One might assume that the stability of his emotional state dangled on something stronger than a single strand of news announced—informally—only once. Yet the second he latched onto that string, he tangled every inch of himself with it to hold himself upright. Foolish, really, as it wouldn’t take much to snap that anchor and send him plummeting into the irreparable.

It was much too late for that, fortunately.

A sleek black carriage heels at the front of the Lycanthrope agency, garnering more attention than Kleo was comfortable with. It looked like a glittering sticker stamped onto a renaissance painting by a child. Large, spindly wheels carrying a box of sheening black with intricate silver swirls. Pulling it along were giant black horses with thick manes, their hooves as thick as a human skull. As curious pedestrians attempted to catch a glimpse of what lay behind the curtained windows, Kleo sunk into the plush cushioned seats, his pale hands covering his face.

“Don’t slouch, you’ll wrinkle your clothing.” A collected voice nags from beside him, stern but gentle in its approach. Eustace Martel, a vampire whose kind nature was lost on his lusterless black eyes and snow-white skin. Imposing in the way most men of political importance were, except Eustace was neither political nor important. He was a humble caretaker, deemed replaceable by everyone except Kleo. While no less than 200 years old, he looked to be in his early forties with a handsome squared jaw, well-maintained stubble, and slight flecks of grey hairs against black. On his lap, he holds Kleo’s mask. Slender fingers fidgeting along it’s grooves as he casts a sneaky glance towards the supervisor who sat across from them. Her unfeeling stone-like gaze watching Kleo as if he were a meagerly scrambling ant.

Per the supervisor’s request, Kleo’s mask was to be removed in his delivery to the agency. They guised their intentions under the claim of politeness. Anyone would be wary of a masked stranger approaching their doors. Eustace, however, being a tentatively loyal member of the agency for centuries, was more than fluent in their backhanded ways. Kleo’s mask was a flaw in their eyes. Evidence of their inability to give proper attention to their worker’s needs, and thus, reflected error on them. The Vampyr Agency made no errors.

“Here are Chameleon’s documents.” The supervisor reaches into her briefcase and pulls out a black binder. “See that it is delivered to the right hands.” Her long, manicured nails click lightly as she wraps her hand around it and passes it to Eustace.

Kleo watches the exchange from between the gaps of his fingers, excitement and fear roiling in his stomach all at once. When the supervisor’s blood-red eyes turn to him, he immediately turns his head. “Make sure it minds it’s manners.” She grimaces with a hint of disgust that Eustace pretends not to see lest his anger get the better of him.

“Of course. We will be swift.” He bows his head, then opens the door and climbs out, holding it for Kleo.

Kleo shuffles out, his tail trembling between his legs until they are out of the supervisor’s sights. By then, it has wrapped around Eustace’s leg as he hides behind him. The soft wrinkles on the caretaker’s face deepen with worry, and he discreetly passes the mask into Kleo’s hands. “Careful now. We’ll both be in trouble if she sees.” He whispers to him, and Kleo shyly bobs his head in a nod.

They cross the street towards the agency, Eustace attempting not to wrinkle his nose at the dastardly state it’s in. A paternal ache in him nearly has him turn with Kleo and leave, but he knows of Kleo’s history with Lycanthrope Agency and its Lancers.

They stand just out of sight from the carriage, allowing Kleo the meek confidence to pull away and properly adjust his mask. Unlike most days, he was wearing a fitted black suit with a stuffy tie. The pants managed to cover his inhuman legs, but by no way that was comfortable. His hair, which was usually a nest of wild white fluff, was combed and slicked to the side. And although the mask now hid his features, Eustace new how off kilter the poor boy felt.

“You can take however long you need to collect yourself.” He assures him with a warm smile reserved only for him. Kleo sniffles and nods, uncurling his tail from Eustace’s leg and lifting his hands into his hair where he rustles it back into its usual state of disarray. The action urges a quiet, amused snort from Eustace.

After a moment, Kleo finally tilts his masked face upward to face Eustace. The glowing eyes of the mask staring up at him almost expectantly. With a simple nod, he turns to the door and opens it.

Entering the Lycanthrope Agency, Kleo feels nostalgia slam into him mercilessly. He’s reminded of Jet’s feathers, of Ambia’s stories, of running amok with the other orphan children after he’d gathered enough courage to do so. His breath catches in his throat and his hand quickly swipes towards Eustace to grab the back of his blazer.

“Easy, now. Do you wish to wait outside while I talk to the head?” Offers Eustace with a gentle touch to Kleo’s shoulder. The shifter contemplates it for a moment, hit with the memory of Ambia grinning mirthfully that one time he’d snuck out to visit. Seeming so happy even without him there. Sickened by his jealousy of the moment, afraid to face her again. Eventually, he shakes his head and releases a trembling breath. The vampire waits for another beat or two before slowly continuing down the main hall, ending at the front desk.

“Hello, I am Eustace Martel with the Vampyr Agency,” he says to the young girl there, flashing his license. Kleo pokes his head out from behind Eustace to look at her. She was unrecognizable. Even so, Kleo offers a timid wave. “We had arranged a transfer earlier this week, and I am here to deliver him.” He tucks his license back into the inner pocket of his blazer. “Is Rumi K’mori present? Or perhaps Rika or Ambia Tel-Redvum?” The names have Kleo’s stomach flip, his tail curling inward anxiously.

 

[Tapfic]

Winnie (NPC)
Interactions: Kleo ( Klown )

Half lidded eyes weren't the best for paying attention to her surroundings, the fact she was three fourths the way into a nap was no help either.

“Hello, I am Eustace Martel with the Vampyr Agency, we had arranged a transfer earlier this week, and I am here to deliver him," Winnie blinked slowly as the (incredibly old, the voices of the dead supplied ) man flashed his license. A masked person peaked out from behind him, and offered a small wave. Winnie returned it with an awkward hesitance.

“Is Rumi K’mori present? Or perhaps Rika or Ambia Tel-Redvum?”

Jeeze- Winnie was not prepared to be quizzed as soon as she had woken up...

" I like your suit... It could go in a coffin..." Her whispery voice was barely audible as she made the observation, dragging the last few syllables into a yawn.
" Hmm... Rumi left... I'll text the bosses... "
And just as she said- she did;

Rika (NPC)
Interactions: Kleo

Rika wasn't doing much when she got the text. Chair leaning backwards, one hand clasping the desk to prevent her from falling back; the other gently holding a crystal ball. Images inside shifted to a new before the first ever had a chance to form. Bouncing through hundreds of random scenes for every minuet she held it- searching.

The phone on her desk buzzed as a snowy winter storm faded from her concentration- and from the ball in her palm.
Ah- the lizard transfer was here; Rumi must have gotten bored of interviews and found an excuse to skip off already if Winnie was texting her. Well, it wasn't as if the old witch had expected anything less.

With the sure movements of someone who had fallen in her chair while leaning back one too many times, Rumi hopped up- brushing the wrinkles from her artificially tattered costume and correcting her hat; before she popped into the hall. Where she had actually come from? No mortal soul could say. Except maybe Jet, if he counted as mortal.

" Heya vampie! " Rika sung the words, heels clicking against the wood floor with every energetic step moving closer to the desk. A full grin parted her lips. One hand reached to pat the Vampyr lancer firmly on the shoulder thrice, as she moved to sit on Winnie's desk; all in what felt like one fluid motion. As Rika settled, one red eye caught the soft white fluff of hair behind the dark suit- a masked person hiding behind the older man like a shy child.

" You two here to drop off the lizard? " She asked, a smile laced in her voice.
But she didn't see a lizard like beast folk- strangely enough. Maybe they were just very very small... Wouldn't that be funny? Offer up a lancer named Chameleon and drop off an actual Chameleon! Rika would most defiantly appreciate the prank far too much to be annoyed by it.

 

[Klown]

K L E O
Location: Front Desk
With: Eustace (Caretaker) , Winnie, Rika [ Tapfic ]

The physical state of the agency was as harrowing as the informality. Kleo glanced at Eustace, amused by the slight squeeze of his brows and dusty pink on his cheeks. Indignant by being treated so casually in his line of work. Even Kleo, who took to some playful torment from time to time, treated Eustace with a withdrawn professionalism on most days.

“Excuse me?” Eustace muttered as his brain processes whether to take her comment in offense or otherwise. He’s not given any clarification as she sinks into her phone to contact the bosses. Kleo smiles behind his mask and pats Eustace on the back to throw the attention off the girl. When the man is turned to him, Kleo signs jauntily.

‘Things are run differently here. They aren’t so stiff.’

Eustace accepts this like one would honest criticism, deliberating it with care. A second of contemplation later, he asks, “I’m not so stiff, am I?”

Kleo releases an airy chortle, hand lifting to cover the mask where his mouth would be. Eustace’s soft smile snaps into fright when an unexpected voice rings down the hall. They both flick their heads in its direction, Kleo’s stomach making a wreck of his insides. He clings to the back of Eustace’s shirt in an effort to restrain himself from jumping on Rika.

He presses into Eustace’s back, a whimper threatening to slip from his throat when she breezes by, not recognizing him.

Eustace watches aghast as she lifts herself up onto the desk and pats his shoulder. He could only be grateful it wasn’t the supervisor in the agency’s midst instead. Rika’s questions drag through his brain like molasses, comprehended only seconds after she’d finished speaking. Even then, the first word spewed from Eustace’s mouth was a scandalized, “What?” Barely regaining his composure as Kleo tugs on the back of his blazer. “No—No lizard. Chameleon, he—that’s—” The man fumbles through his words, ears tinted pink as he takes the binder of Kleo’s documents and passes them down to Rika. “The transfer is no lizard, his name—alias,” He quickly corrected himself, “is only Chameleon.”

Eustace looks over his shoulder down at Kleo, whose tail was now propelling from side to side like an excitable pup despite the anxiousness between his clutching fingers.

“Go on, introduce yourself properly.” Eustace whispered with an encouraging nudge to move the young shifter out from behind him. Kleo’s face is tilted down, his hands tightly gripping each other at his front. He can hardly face Rika, the mere thought of tilting his head up to meet her face had tears swell in his eyes. Even then, his tail would not stop swinging wildly. Her voice and her smile, it was all the same. It was all so comforting. Even if she never recognized him through the mask, he’d be just as happy like this.

Forgetting how to work his hands, Kleo takes a deep bow instead of signing.

“He’s mute.” Eustace clarifies, voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

 

[Tapfic]

Rika (NPC)
Interactions:
Kleo ( Klown )
Eustice ( Klown )

“No—No lizard. Chameleon, he—that’s—" Rika watched in quiet amusement as the man stumbled over his words. "The transfer is no lizard, his name—alias, is only Chameleon.”

Deep red gaze drifted down now, back to the masked boy; Chameleon. Her head tilted to one side, wild black hair falling with it. One eye, one iris, one pupil- dragging across the Lancer. Now that she looked, he was incredibly familiar- in a way that made something in the back of her being ache.

“Go on, introduce yourself properly.”

And the boy— Chameleon, her inner voice corrected in a way that still felt wrong; stepped forward to bow. The Lycanthrope Head offered what she hoped was a disarming smile, soft and easy; her eye closed briefly with a nod.

“He’s mute.” The older Lancer supplied an explanation for the silence before Rika had any idea to ask for one.

" Ah, got it-" she had an incredible urge to call her wife there, to confirm or deny the aching feeling of familiarity; but the other had gotten the text from Winnie as well. She'd already be well on her way by now.

The witch lifted one arm, a trail of glowing runes flashed in a line along her wrist. With the movement of her hand the lights separated themselves from her skin and spun; until the shapes unified into a single runic circle, floating just above her hand. Into that softly glowing shape she reached- and pulled a clip board with the needed paperwork from inside.

Winnie's muttered scoff at the flashy act didn't go unnoticed, but it only served to widen Rika's smile.

Ambia (NPC)

The search wasn't easy. If it had been it would have been over by now- and Ambia would not be nearly so worn. Despite the soft requests and reassurances from her wife- ' Lie down, get some rest- we'll find them, don't worry,' Nothing could keep her mind from wandering back to the search. Not when they had been gone for so long.

The scent trail was worn away now, faded like the dull laundered sheets clutched in her hands. There was nothing Ambia could do to follow it anymore. She knew it, but it didn't stop some part of her from wanting to track it down again- follow whatever footsteps she could find until-

A buzz in her pocket was a welcome distraction. The Vampyr agency transfer had arrived.

One hand rubbed at her cheek, the dull sting of exhaustion in her muscles and under her eyes wasn't something that was easily forgotten; but at least in this form she had the mercy of soft fur to hide what had to be some of the most drastic dark circles she had sported in the past hundred years. Ambia left the small laundry room with a stack of neatly folded towels on the mechanical dryer (one of her favorite inventions to date). Fur clinging to the smell of linen as she passed the baths, the garden, the kitchen- and then finally the main hall.

“He’s mute.” A voice etched with the slightest trace of sadness spoke, meeting her ears before she saw the speaker.

" Ah, got it-" Rika replied, and Ambia stepped through into the hall.

One sniff- her wife's scent was always easier to pick out than any others, regardless of the smell of detergent still hanging in the air around her. Two sniffs- familiar lancers ( the bittersweet of Amethyst's blood more biting than any of the others- Ambia frowned and hoped she hadn't gotten into a fight ). Three sniffs of the air before the strange yet familiar scent was placed- the white werewolf's face jerked down with wide eyes. Slate gray irises disappeared behind impossibly wide pupils, and Ambia blatantly stared at the child in a mask being offered paperwork.

" Kleo?" Ambia asked quietly. Hunching her shoulders and bending at the waist- to see him more clearly- and maybe to be a bit closer.

 

[BittyBobcat]

Gray
House right through the Rift - Artemis ( Cello. ), Lan ( Tapfic ), Jet, Arii, Tande ( ScatheAriiasqDrayceon )
Dad's back? He blinked and turned to find Jet rounding the corner.

Gray squinted for a half second before momentarily forgetting the gun pointed at him and blurting, "You have a kid?" His gaze flicked back to said kid, glancing between them and Jet in the same way one might at a particularly confusing diagram and an explanation that's supposed to contextualize it, but only really succeeds in confusing the reader more.

In his complete and utter bafflement (and lack of the too-large pair of ears he'd grown used to these past two weeks), he failed to notice footsteps behind him announcing the entrance of another of their party.

“Please shoot him.”

If he had his fur, it would've bristled at the sudden voice, but his surprise was (thankfully) only revealed by a slight jolt.

“Ah Arii is that you? Nice to kind of see you.”

Gray's eyebrow perked. They knew eachother. The likelihood of any of them getting shot, it seemed, was dropping by the minute.

As if he had known all along that this was the case (he didn't), he returned to his regularly scheduled prickliness without a moment's more hesitation. "If Feathers is our bar for 'annoying enough to shoot,' then the rest better hope they're bullet-proof." His hands crossed over his chest, fingers tapping impatiently against the side of his arm.

"As much as I'm loving the hospitality here—sorry for dropping in, by the way, completely unintentional—I think we're supposed to be investigating something right about now," he said, one hand flicking out of the cross to gesture with the dry tone. "Preferably without having a gun pointed at us." Of course, if this was anything like his usual experience with agencies, then there was every chance they'd have some other weapon stuck in their faces soon enough, but any magical iteration of that was familiar enough that Gray would take it over a gun.

 

[Gao]

Funai Ren
Interactions/Mentions: Tapfic (Lan) + BittyBobcat (Kitty/Gray) + Cello. (Hunter) + ScatheAriiasqDrayceon (Jet, Tande, Arii)

Ren was a very busy person. Business savvy, that is. A discount kick to the ribs or a broken bone, and still his services were not taken seriously. Ren huffed. People could be so picky.

Trying to leech money from kissing-turned-maiming aside, a group had formed. Big bird, kitty, small selfish feathered one, floaty vampire, and a recently-encountered ponytail. Usually enough of a crowd for Ren to turn tail and flee, but there were several reasons why the demon had the motive to stay and tag along on a mission.

1. Ren had a brand new licence he wanted to try out. Turning the red card within his fingers, a curious bite to the corner to check the material. One may even ask, what was it made out of? Opportunity. Powerful, unleashed, soon-to-be-driving, opportunity.

2. Ren could fight. If children want to stare so much, children should be able to suffer the consequences: A hit to the throat. The demon had failed to realise that no, this was not a trip to attack kids.

3. He wanted a phonebook.

Throughout rational contemplation on what is the best way to fight a child, Ren was busy walking his fingers through the contents of a wallet he borrowed from god knows who; no doubt a civilian who’d entered Ren’s greedy surveillance and become an unsuspecting victim to his sticky fingers. A thief left to their own devices was a well-rehearsed recipe, ingrained instinct to swipe coming into play. At the very least, the petty crime had kept Ren relatively quiet on the group’s journey. With a final shake to check for any loose coins he’d failed to scavenge, the klepto tossed the wallet off to the side to pay attention to the looming milk marble.

The valley was close by, what a beautifully horrible place. But great climate!

A familiar itch ran along his fingers, and the demon mindlessly picked and pulled at the fabric of his glove to soothe it. Otherwise he gave no heed to his prior home, padding along with the group as they entered the building.

As grand as the outside was, the inside left much to be desired. No complimentary slippers or bathrobes for their arrival, and instead, a complete slacker. If Ren hadn’t been so absorbed trying to catch his reflection in the shine of the pretty mirrors, perhaps he’d have noticed the guardian’s features sooner. Round lion ears and a slothful tail, Rumi was very generous to bestow so many pets into Ren’s loving care.

The amount of self control to not pounce the now noticed, ‘big kitty’, became immeasurable. Twitch of his fingers, subtle steps back and forth on each foot like a caged animal. A sleepy beast, presumably soft and warm and beautifully undisturbed-

Ren’s joy shrivelled. As did his expression and almost seemingly– his height. With a visible wince his tail darted close and wrapped around a leg for safe-keeping. How heartless, trampling the tired feline under a boot like some unwanted stain. Big kitty deserved better, a dish of fancy-feast cat food and a nice winter sweater.

Emrie seemed laidback about the brutal assault, idling upon the floor for quite some time before standing to check their credentials. Ren waited for most of the group to present their licences and pass till his own turn came to fruition. Casting a wary look after Lan to ensure safe distance (the safety of his tail was important), before shuffling forward to offer his card. Shiny and new, if one ignored the corner that was crescented by a curious teeth mark. Powerful, unleashed, soon-to-be-driving opportunity within his grabby little hand.

The demon pulled the card an inch away each time the sphinx went for it. Antagonising Emrie was a small price to pay to watch the fluffy paw reaching through the air. Plump toe-beans and wee kitty claws, Ren’s eyes alight with smug malevolence.

“You can’t touch it,” Ren casually informed with another pull of the licence. “It’s mine.”

The bickering of ‘look but do not touch’ delayed the demon’s arrival to the rift by a short time. Grown weirdly possessive of the stupid card, it was enough to refuse to let Emrie hold it and check it efficiently.

Out of order. Ren squinted at the note with a hint of dubiety.

That sign can’t stop him, because he can’t read.

The sea of static that enveloped his body was, to put gently, not a vibe. Creeping along his skin like an itchy blanket, it made Ren grow anxious about the state of his hair. After all the preening and hair product to finally tame it down, he dreaded to think he’d emerge with a dishevelled nest on the streets of Los Angeles.

But it was not the LA Hollywood Boulevard or even the Louvre in Paris. Everything was red, and Ren’s lip curled up in a blend of confusion, disgust, and aggression at what was 3 inches from his face. Round. Red. Close. Didn’t like that.

The demon swatted at the paper lantern, sending a shake and a bounce reverberating through the string of lights. His eyes followed the rattling, being met with the assaulting (and greatly unfortunate) wave of colours that made his head ache something awful. Rainbow hell littered with precarious towers of paper expanding around him.

Maybe this was New York city. They were flamboyant. Probably had lots of paper.

He quickly patted at his face to check everything was in-order. Then gingerly over the forehead and up to his hair to find it without ailment. Still in fluffy waves, nice and neat. Yet the longer his hands patted and checked the tresses, he found the small accessory wings that perked from his head to be missing. Short-lived panic, followed by an alarmed spin or two to search for a tail that was now absent.

Ren probably would’ve thrown his head back and wailed till someone heard and came to find him, but voices interjected his almost-tantrum.

“Anyone else I should be aiming at besides the dishevelled homeless man and the shorty?” The voice was deep, almost guttural, and went unrecognised by the demon. This led to the only viable conclusion:

An armed robbery!

No sense of loyalty was in place for his fellow lancers, but Ren was certain should he emerge from the forest of clutter that whatever was being ‘aimed’ would find a target on him as well. Alas– he sighed through his nose and drew the pen he’d stolen from the main desk out from the front of his shirt, some things could not be helped. He’d have to skewer somebody with a writing utensil. Bring a pen to a gun-fight. Destroy one of his own kind, for there was only room for one robber in this colourful damnation.

Muscles coiled with suppressed motion, he began to pad silently around the side of the stacked paper, fingers flexing around the pen in preparation to strike. It was only when he’d pounced into view, weapon mid-raise, did he realise how badly he’d misjudged the scene.

“Dad’s back,” chimed a younger voice.

The demon stood awkwardly, pen still in hand, round empty eyes loading the scene.

"You have a kid?" An excellent question from previously called ‘kitty’ (Now known as ‘small kitty’ in comparison to the sleepy rift guardian). Rather than interpreting the question as confused disbelief, Ren saw it more along the lines of: ‘ew, why would you have a kid? They don’t even pay rent.’

“Ah Arii is that you? Nice to kind of see you.” This was definitely not an armed robbery, more like an uncomfortable reunion that Ren wanted no part in. Due to the fact he was still there primed for attack like a crazed lunatic, he needed some damage control.

Ren sheepishly lowered the pen and hid it behind his back.

“I’m a journal.” He introduced to the strangers, but even the illiterate Ren understood that didn’t sound correct. “Journal-er? Journal-ering? Stupid fucking word I swear to g- I write things! Important things… for important people.” And to really sprinkle the final garnish of trust, he added a questionable: “I would never stab you. I just like pens.”

Confrontation remedied by his excellent manipulation, Ren learned from listening to kitty that they were meant to be investigating something. Didn’t sound like fighting kids or whatnot, making Ren side-eye if this was the right mission.

“-Preferably without having a gun pointed at us."

“You’re right.” The demon hummed in agreement, strangely rational as he turned to look at the short silver-haired individual. Ren didn’t seem to mind the primed weapon, spidey-sense for valuables stirring. In a turnaround of his short-lived logic, he made a unanimous decision on behalf of everybody.

“I should hold the gun.” A hand extended out in demand of the pistol. A very brash order to give someone aiming a weapon.

 

[Cello.]

Nivara Kaida
Interactions: Tapfic (Rumi/FRANK) Lucius Cypher (Kirk)
Location: The woods
Mood: DONT BE SUSPIOUS DONT BE SUSPIOUS! UNDERCOVERRRRR *Screeching guitar solo*​

Nivara blinked up at Frank, taking the form gently in her hands and her tail drooped slightly. She forgot paperwork required words- words she had to read. This was not good- not good at all. Her smile faltered as she glanced over the page, hoping the words would come to her like some magic ability people got in movies. Her eyes became glassy and her nose burned as tears threatened to slip. She could only make out a couple words but they were basic and nothing that actually helped her understand what was on the page of words that bled together forming an incohesive script. It might as well have been written in another language.

“I-I cant read this.” She whispered, glancing up at Rumi. She didnt like not being good at something or being seen as weak. But Rumi had taken it in stride and helped her through it. Once she was done, the tears had been cleared away and she was all smiles again. “Thank you Frank!” She chirped, tail swishing back and forth.

An opportunity rose to take a mission right off that bat, so she took it eagerly. Would she make the moneyz?? She had obtained a license that she wasnt allowed to chew on, sadly. She didnt even know what it did. Was it so she could enter the passageways in the building? Was she one of those fancy detectives on human shows? OH MY GOSH- She had to get ready for that!

TIME FOR NIVARA TO GO UNDERCOVER!

She quickly took off to where her room was (thank you to the helpful person who directed her), footsteps echoing in the halls. A bright smile as she opened the door to the plain room and breathed in. “New home! A fresh start!” Starting with being an undercover agent. She shut the door gently behind her, spinning till she landed on her bed that was tucked into the corner in a fit of giggles. A dresser was shoved into another corner and a shelf was above the bed. Nivara opened her palm and a soft light shined then dulled before shining again, ice crawling out of her palm and decorating the room in hanging icicles that took the form of different figures.

She sat up slowly, stretching her arms before standing up. She should probably meet the others again so they could get going. Nivara got up and crossed over to the dresser where she discarded her satchel a minute ago, pulling out a rather simple outfit out of its confines. A silk black dress that dipped low on the chest and cut off at the shoulders before fanning out into poofy mesh sleeves. The dress stopped right above mid-thigh in light pleated ruffles lined with gold thread that matched the gold ribbon right under her chest. A pale poofy pink floor length coat lined with white faux fur was pulled on over. They were going somewhere magical so she had to look good! She slid on a pair of knee-high black boots trimmed with gold thread. A set of pale pink stone rings glittered on her fingers and another set dangling off her horns.

With a final look in the mirror, she nodded in content with a bright smile. She eyed a small dagger next to her stuff that she debated about bringing. Would someone yell at her for carrying a weapon? What if she didnt bring it and someone attacked Frank and the zombie guy?? Her stomach churned but she reached for it and tucked it into her boot. Reaching for the satchel and tugging it around her shoulder, hidden by the confines of her coat.

Better to be safe than sorry. Nivara stepped out of her room and joined the two she was going with. The fur coat was more for looks than anything it would actually do for her, the cold didnt affect her even if it was a bit more of a bitch to handle outside her dragon form. She grinned up at Kirk and nodded at his outfit. “You look nice! I love the hat! Where can I get one? It would totally match my outfit!” She giggled before skipping off with them, tail swinging back and forth.

“What is a train?” She cocked her head to the side, looking at Rumi. “Isnt that the vroom vroom machine that goes fast? My friends have been on one of those! I normally fly wherever im going or walk! But trains seem cool! Faster than walking for sure! Do your organs slip out of you? Ive heard stories of that before.”

They were walking down the road and her eyes kept bouncing around the scenery, taking in all nature with bright gleaming eyes. The forest here was much different from the forest she lived near. Here it was bright and lit up with shades of green and brown and the occasional pop of bright color. Hers was all blue covered in snow and ice, never any flowers or leaves. The sun soon disappeared and it grew a bit darker and chiller, she could see her breath in the air but couldnt feel it on her skin, regardless (to make sure she didnt look weird) she tugged her coat over her body more.

“Oh- Thats really helpful! How expensive are tickets normally?” She hummed. The cost hanging in the back of her mind, what if she had to pay for her own this time? She had no money on her? She hoped she didnt have to. At Kirks question she nodded excitedly. “Oh oh yea! Do these also allow us to drive those things on wheels? That honk loudly? What are those called? What about places normal monsters cant enter, do these give us secret agent access everywhere? What is take-out? Is that when you stab someone with pokey sticks?”

 

[Tapfic]

Rumi
Interactions:
Nivara ( Cello. )
Kirk ( Lucius Cypher )

The winter chill only hung heavier as the day grew later, and the group continued their walk. Fortunately, Rumi preferred the cold.

"Aye I have. Twice. Had to stand both times but fortunately it was a pretty short trip. A bit annoying the second time though since it was jammed packed. Or is this one of those fancier trains with the cabins and such? Never been in one of those."

" ...I wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah; it's the second type you're thinking of- with the cabins," Rumi wouldn't call it fancy, as she had seen much nicer accommodations in her time; but it wasn't exactly on the level of the human world's subway systems either. That was one mode of transport the demon liked to avoid if she could; due to a very specific and unpleasant experience that she rather not recall in detail.

“What is a train? Isnt that the vroom vroom machine that goes fast? My friends have been on one of those! I normally fly wherever im going or walk! But trains seem cool! Faster than walking for sure! Do your organs slip out of you? Ive heard stories of that before.”

The forest was growing thinner now, leaves once dense enough to block the midday sun gave way to an open sky. A clear blue, accented by the occasional cumulous cloud.

" Vroom...vroom..." Rumi repeated the phrase as though she was processing its meaning, such a childish way to describe the vehicle- " ...I'm pretty sure cars are the vroom vroom one... a train is more like," She lifted one hand, miming the pulling of a rope " Choo choo."

"Nice. I'll keep that in mind boss. Anything else out business cards can get for us? Maybe a discount for take-out?" Rumi couldn't deny she found being referred to as boss more than a little funny.
She let out a small, unexplained snort at the name. It was an inside joke, except the only one in on it was Rumi, which was honestly the best form of comedy.

“Oh- Thats really helpful! How expensive are tickets normally?”

" I'd have to check the prices again, but If you phrase it right, your card can get you just about anything for free, " This was not true, actually. The advice might get them a lot more than what one might expect, but it was far from 'anything'; and the demon of deals doubted the zombie or the simple dragon had the tongue to do such. Rumi only said as much because she thought it would be funny if they did try getting a discount with what was essentially a glorified business card when not trying to cross the rift.

“Oh oh yea! Do these also allow us to drive those things on wheels? That honk loudly? What are those called? What about places normal monsters cant enter, do these give us secret agent access everywhere? What is take-out? Is that when you stab someone with pokey sticks?”

" That would be the vroom vroom things, actually, and they are in fact called Vroom vroom things. The license will get you into the human realm, as well as provide you with a non-magical form." the answers came quickly and easily " And takeout is a term for restaurant food, dating, and murder; all three if you're a bit fucked up,"

The forest had disappeared from the path completely, now replaced with open field and the beginnings of a town. Bleached stone homes, cobbled buildings, and a much nicer road marked their entry to the small city of Redwolf. Railroad stretched on for miles beside them, cutting the town in half; as though the settlement itself had been built around it.
At the very center, a market surrounded the station. Monsters from every stretch selling wares from their home; but Rumi- despite her taste for shopping- had been here one too many times to be interested in their shops ( devil knows she had already done quite enough to the poor saps' respective inventories ).

" And the walking is over! Not too bad was it? " Her feet hurt, admittedly. Probably should have opted for flats rather than the short heeled boots she wore now- but that was the price she paid to adhere to her own aesthetic.

With their arrival, Rumi ushered the other two into the small station. A harpy woman sat, perched behind the ticket booth; shoulders out and posture straight as she greeted every customer with a wide smile and helpful disposition. The smile faltered behind a deep red flush when the woman's eyes met Rumi's sharp toothed grin.

" O-oh hello, R-Rumi," she tried to appear cool; leaning her cheek against a hand as the demon stepped forward, unfortunately she misjudged the distance drastically. The harpy punched herself in the face with a startled squawk. A stumble that did not go unnoticed despite her frantic attempt to right herself.

" Here with your," the feathered woman's eyes flit between the agents for a moment " Coworkers? "

" Business trip," Rumi confirmed warmly, voice bordering on a purr. Sharp red eyes dragged themselves over the station owner's form through the glass window; slowly and with intent. The action was enough to deepen the soft pink dusting of a blush, to a scarlet tint.

The rest of the interaction didn't go much differently, and in the end- the demon flirted her way into obtaining three free tickets to Fantasia without ever needing to explicitly offer anything in return. No, she didn't need to- the station master could have been won over with a few mentions of past favors. Unfortunately for the harpy- Rumi found it incredibly funny to get her hopes up.

 

[FireMaiden]

Valerie De'Rune
Location: The Human World!!
Interaction: ScatheAriiasqDrayceon (Jet)
Mentioned: Gao (Ren) Tapfic (Lan) Cello. (Artemis) BittyBobcat (Gray)
Things progressed very quickly. So quickly in fact...that Val didn't know how she got roped into their mission. One moment, the guy with the giant wings was separating a fight and a demon was asking her to have Randall and now...she was on her way to the Gate. But Val was not happy, not about being dragged along with these strangers, but about the sun. She had to float just above the rest of them, her legs pulled up as close to her body as she could get them while clutching a black umbrella. Even with her clothing covering the majority of her skin, Val didn't want to risk anything. The sun would burn her pretty.uch immediately, and then it would either ask someone for a donation or be bedridden for a week as she healed slowly. That would awful. That being said, Val was happy to finally be getting out of the hall and doing something. Even if that something was a long float away in the sun. Not to mention it seemed rather tense, though Val understood why if the scene in the main hall was anything to go on with these guys. In any case, Val was focused more on keeping out of the sun than she was about paying attention to the conversations going on around her. Even as they reached the gate.

The Gate in the vampire's realm was kept in a cool, dark place, much like the rest of their realm. So as beautiful as this was...and even with the shade, Val kept her umbrella up. And until they were in the human realm, she'd be taken all the precautions she could. Val was also fully expecting to see a hellhound or werewolf as their gate guardian instead of a sphinx. Their comment about one of them biting caused Val to chuckle to herself, watching silently as they all just waited for permission to go through the gate. Val grabbed her wallet, producing the Lycanthrope license when it was her turn. Out of habit, Val would hang around to be the last one through and...it never got any less strange. Unlike some other people, she didn't have to feel fur being plucked form her body, or their bones changing shape...but it still felt odd. Like she was burning gently from the inside out as her vampiric traits were removed. Now all they had to do was find some sunscreen for her. As a human, Val was the equivalent of an Irish. She did not tan.

But sunscreen was quickly not on the top of her list of priorities as she came out the other side of the gate in... someone's house? That was odd, usually Val ended up in the woods or someplace a little more public not...not a house. She was a bit confused, looking around around a few times to make sure everyone was there before she spotted the man with a gun. "Oh, wow. Isn't that hospitable?" Val mumbled to herself, folding her umbrella with a smile. Oh it would feel nice getting to explore the human world a bit...even if they were there for a very specific reason. But the gun wasn't really the biggest surprise there was as a pair of kids appeared and addressed one of them as dad. She certainly wasn't who they were taking too, Gray and Lan probably not...so Jet was the likely culprit. "Yeah, I second that," Val said, looking to the taller man after the demon spoke. "You have kids?"

 

[Tapfic]

Lan
Interactions:
Gray ( BittyBobcat )
Val ( FireMaiden )
Artemis ( Cello. )
Tande ( ScatheAriiasqDrayceon )
Ren ( Gao )

"You have a kid?"
Lan's brows knit looking between Jet and... his child?

""Yeah, I second that, You have kids?"

Though equally schocked; if not more so- the angel could only give a muffled huff of disbelief and a quiet " What the fuck-" the words barely coming through in the form of a pained whisper.

“Please shoot him.”

And now mask bitch was advocating for his execution! He didnt even do anything to her (that he remembered) yet! Though he certainly would have challnged her to a fight for that stupid laugh if he was not aware of how incredibly pitiful he sounded at the moment.

"If Feathers is our bar for 'annoying enough to shoot,' then the rest better hope they're bullet-proof."

Lan nodded in agreement- despite the original request being made for Arc to find people 34% less annoying- they had somehow ended up with at least two mission hitch hikers who were far worse company to make. He had yet to decide on the vamp's reletive levle of annoying.

And just as the (no longer) catboy finished his shockingly reasonable request to maybe not be held at gun point- worse than Arc #2 spoke ( List of crimes: Whiney, and touchy )

“You’re right. I should hold the gun."

The angel may not have been the most rational lancer in the lot, but something deeply instinctual told him that was an incredibly horrible idea. A sentiment he passed along by crossing both arms into the shape of an X, and shaking his head with wide eyes.

The angel's feathers bristled at the very- wait. No they didn't.
Attention to the danger at hand was quickly lost, Lan turning his head back to see his wings had dissapeared. He turned once, spinning in a circle like a dog following its own tail before he realized how stupid it looked.

The change may have come more gently had someone opted to inform him of the secondary purpose of a license. Stripping all magical features from the hunter that held them when crossed through the rift. Though running it through what little logic he had; it did make sense. Enough. And also explained why his back was cold. He would have been wondering about that if his attention hadnt been stolen by an incredibly short ( knome??) man with a gun.

 

[ScatheAriiasqDrayceon]

Jet, "Tande", Arii
Interactions:
Gray ( BittyBobcat )
Val ( FireMaiden )
Artemis ( Cello. )
Ren ( Gao )
Lan ( Tapfic )

Maybe Jet should have notified his husband about unexpected visitors. Maybe. To be perfectly fair, though, he thought they had the portal issue fixed, and honestly, the lighted patterns flashing against the walls were far more entertaining to pay attention to.

As Jet meandered his way out of the greenhouse—fingers working at the buttons of his jacket so he could change into something that actually fit his human form—his ears caught onto the commotion and it registered that ah, right, his husband—as wonderful and charming as he was—was very gun-happy. Arii was dealing their version of damage-control, though, so he supposed they'd be fine.

Absently, the previously-bird-man—who hadn't shortened an inch—swept through the living-room, pausing only to ruffle his kid's hair and quite obviously ignoring the questions and exclamations from the rest of his party.

Vi raised a brow, but began disarming the gun, muttering something along the lines of "Agencies" and "hiring so many new people" and "I should get them to make a roster before I shoot someone I'm not supposed to". All in all very reasonable—well, Jet would say it was reasonable if he was listening. But he wasn't, and instead chose to kneel down—he had to kneel—and peck Vihaan on the cheek, muttering an apology under his breath. Or—what sounded like an apology to his brain. He was kind-of distracted by Arii's greeting of "hunter!"

Now that Jet had blood again, the pain medication for his ribs was traveling a lot faster.

Vihaan's face softened, and he huffed a chuckle. "Yeah, alright. Meds are in the cabinet, you gigantic dork. Go take them before you have a heart-attack."

Jet stood again lazily, and just that image was positively comical. Platinum was barely taller than the line of Jet's waist, and combined with the fact that Jet's dress shirt was made to accommodate for his wings and what was probably fifty pounds of muscle, he looked scrawny.

Though, as Platinum finished unloading the weapon (the bullets and magazine being slipped into a pocket and the pistol itself returning to a holster that had previously been hidden by his shirt. At the introduction of grubby little not-demon hands (and technically grubby little demon bodies, considering that Ren was posed to strike), his face soured slightly. "Not the best idea, coming out here with a pen, love. And I'll hardly trust a man I just met with my weapon."

He didn't seem to believe a word Ren said.

Further back in the kitchen, Jet made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a snort, though it was slightly muffled by a mouthful of water and no less than three different colored pills.

A ball of paper was promptly thrown at him by—presumably, because they were still surrounded by paper—Arii. They didn't stay that way for long, though, carefully scooting the tall chair out from the taller table so-as-to not knock anything over.

As it turned out, the matcha ice-cream gremlin did, in fact look an awful lot like an actual gremlin—though it might just have been the crooked grin pasted on their face. Their eyes trailed to Lan, Gray's complaint of having things to do sailing over their head as they ducked to look at him. "You look awful familiar," they all-but sang. "Do I know you?"

They knew exactly what they were doing, and it showed.

"That's right!" They snapped their fingers (though the sound was positively pitiful). "The dollar-store-discount angel!" Their grin only grew. "How's your limp dick doing, ferret?"

The perceptive might notice Jet's hummed "Oh. That's what he is." Though, it was soon covered with his addressing of the poking at his personal life. "Yes, if you must know, this is my husband, Vihaan—" He gestured to the previously-gun-wielding man who was missing a good portion of his face—"And that's Ariiasqthylinh, though I'm sure most of you know their current username, Crow. Speaking of which—I should hope you didn't burn the mission information." Jet knew they didn't. Arii knew Jet knew they didn't. Anyone who cared to look at Jet's face knew he knew.

Arii scoffed in mock-offense, anyway, leaving Lan alone to turn to look at their dad. "Of course I didn't burn weeks of my circuit's work." Quite promptly, they plucked a paper package—held together with just hopes, dreams, and a strained line of red yarn—off the stack of paper on the floor behind them. "It's right here."

It was thicker than their arm.

That wasn't saying much, but it was still a lot of paper.

Jet hummed, then turned on a heel to start off to disappear further into the house. "You guys talk—I need a new shirt."

 

[BittyBobcat]

COLLAB POST WITH
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Characters:
Arii, Tande (Scathe)
Peter (Me)

Turtll (abandoned shopping center) - Val ( FireMaiden ), Artmeis ( Cello ), Ren ( Gao ), Lan ( Tapfic )

Turtll was one of the best shopping centers Peter had ever been to. A beaten up, mostly burnt out neon sign hung over the front, still proudly displaying the words “Turtle Creek Mall” behind the faded yellow caution tape wrapping it like a discount halloween mummy. Though its name had long since changed to the small handful of letters still just barely clinging onto a glowing life, Turtle Creek was a name more applicable now than it ever was before the earthquake that condemned it to its fate of disrepair. Useless storm drains so covered in leaves that not a single drop would flow through them anymore littered the ground. Over time, rain (and some beer that had been dumped out when one group of teenagers or another got caught climbing around the closed-off structure) gathered, leaving giant swathes of the cracked tile floor more swamp than linoleum.

A raven circled lazily around the broken antenna of the old mall, the orange eyes of a juvenile almost visible even at the distance Peter stood at. The bird wasn’t an uncommon sight at the mall, though the havoc-causing bag of feathers wasn’t exactly welcome, either.

Peter took a deep breath in, letting the scent of sun-baked stagnant water fill his lungs. Sure, it smelled like shit, but he’d been in his human form for too damn long, and breathing anything without that stupid cross dangling around his neck was the best blessing he’d ever recieve.

Speaking of which, he better make the most of it.

As a growling exhale wound its way through rapidly sharpening teeth, he stepped forward onto one of the many upraised segments of earth that had been cracked and practically thrown into an incline when the quake first hit the building. This one, however, had the added benefit of leading onto a larger, flatter plate where the majority of the fights started (there was little promise it was where the action would stay). Damp tile pressed against the pads of his paws, biting wherever clumps of dirt and rock hardened into a point.

Now this was the right way to spend your free time.

On the opposite side of the chunk of ground stood, a taller, unfurred figure—though their teeth were just as sharp. Even as they walked, their transformation mirrored Peter’s rapidly more canine appearance.

It started from the extremities. A black stain from the hands and feet crawling upward, along their arms and legs until their entire body was coated in a sleek fur that shone eerily green even in the yellowed sunlight. Four hooves slammed into the tile as all traces of a human face disappeared into the kelpie’s featureless black eyes.

Back outside, hanging from the edged fence by its claws, the raven called, voice sharp—almost scathing. “R-n fsstr,” the bird snapped, clacking its beak impatiently as the lanky, human figure of Jet finished prying the lock off the chain link gate.

He eyed the bird, perking a brow almost incredulously. “I am neither running, nor are we in any particular hurry,” Jet drawled, idly reaching up to pat its head.

Arii, as they were, tried to bite his finger, feathers fluffing traitorously and sending flakes of dried probably-used-to-be-skin falling to the ground. They found the appearance of a bird—though oddly colored around the legs and face—made it both easier and harder to sneak into places.

On one hand, no one recognized them.

On the other hand, they were a wild bird flapping around a grocery store abandoned mall.

And on their currently nonexistent third hand, Jet had a much easier time knowing that they did, unfortunately enjoy head-scratches.

Damn him.

As the gate swung in, Arii took off again, feathers sleeking against the cold air. They rose with a few slightly strained—they were barely fledged, alright? They still had pin-feathers in their primaries—wingbeats.

They led Jet—and presumably the rest of the party. They didn’t check—down past the side of the building, where an emergency exit sat with a flickering sign of barely legible green. They landed on the handle, snapping their beak impatiently as the cold of the metal chilled their talons.

Jet offered them an arm as he approached, letting them hop up to his shoulder and—notably—not flinching at the pricking of their claws. So the pain-meds were working.

Which was good, because Jet hadn’t even planned on coming on the mission. Arii, however, wouldn’t give anyone else the paperwork because “They lost a plant, Jet”.

So Jet was walking ahead a little. Not much, but enough that he could make sure nothing truly unpleasant happened because the rest of the merry band of idiots was too loud to know that the word “stealthy” had applications.

Jet pushed open the door carefully, the hinges—suspiciously—not squealing at all (if the smell of static lingered in the air for a moment, well, that’s not Arii’s business, now was it?). Musty air rammed the two in the face almost immediately, the signature humidity of a flooded building prompting an offended hiss out of Arii and nothing out of Jet because the lucky bastard couldn’t smell for shit.

The door opened on a high plateau that probably used to be a second floor, the hill they had used for cover to break through the fence offering the perfect place for people to maybe escape in an emergency. Below the crumbling mass that Jet tested carefully with his negligible weight, people sprawled out. The bodies formed a loose ring, with a couple off to the sides and two in the middle where stagnant water lapped at their feet.

The contestants paused, waiting long enough that any further transformations they might have wanted would finish—after all, it was rude to spar the unprepared.

Peter snarled, a sound perhaps threatening to those who didn’t know him, but Kale had been through enough of these matches to recognize its uplifting tone.

They nodded.
He lunged.

See, kelpies—or maybe just Kale, they were the only kelpie he knew—had the unfortunate quirk of grabbing literally anything that stepped near water and dragging it under with plants so tough that they may as well have been steel. He didn’t even know where the stupid weeds came from; there was no way in hell that Turtll’s pools were deep enough to house those slimy shits.

But that was beside the point. The best way to fight them was to get to higher ground… that higher ground being Kale themself, much to Kale’s chagrin.

He grabbed a pawful of mane, ignoring their hiss as he vaulted onto their back. “Fuckin’ hell, ever heard of shampoo?” Peter barked, his paws sticking on their fur like a tacky movie theater floor from hell.

Apparently they didn’t because the mere mention of it was enough for them to completely forget that whole kelpies-are-sticky-as-fuck thing and start trying to buck him off. Of course, Peter wasn’t in any actual danger of being thrown, but he wasn’t about to test how long it’d take for Kale to remember the age old adage ‘stop, drop, and roll’.

Which meant he had to choke down his disgust and…

Well, let’s just say there were many times he hated the fact that hellhounds ate magic. This was one of them.

Unfortunately, even though being crushed under an entire horse was beginning to sound like a far better alternative, he did want to win this match, so out his tongue went to lick the—urgh—’fur’ (if it could even be called that) around his front paw. Disgustingly greasy (and yet somehow sticky at the same time?) as it was, the magic was filling as any other morsel. Down the hatch and into… wherever he digested magic (he didn’t know whether it was worse to assume it was going to his stomach or not).

It worked. Thank fuck, it worked. Within a few death-defying moments of keeping his head from being slammed into the ground with probably the most core muscle he’d ever used in his life, he tugged the rest of his paws free and—

Something wet and slimy slapped onto his shoulder.

Right. Gross weird strangle murder plants. Those were still around.

Before he had a chance to register much beyond ‘ew’, they were snaking around his chest and dragging him backward—fuckin’ hell, why was the tile so slippery—until water lapped at the fur along his back.

So there were plants around his neck. Terr-fucking-rific.

 

[Tapfic]

Lan
Location: Turtll
with ( Ren Gao ) , Artemis ( Cello. ) , Valerie ( FireMaiden )
Interactions:
Jet ( ScatheAriiasqDrayceon )
Mentioned:
Peter ( BittyBobcat ), Arii ( ScatheAriiasqDrayceon )


Lan had yet to be given jack shit about what exactly the plan was- and considering Jet's apparent crotch goblin wouldn't let any of the party that had actually taken the job near any of the information (as far as Lan was aware ) there really wasn't a way for any of them to pull one out of their collective asses either.
He would have complained loudly- but; y'know. Current loss of voice ( thankfully, the sore throat began fading quickly- now he could at least whisper ).
Instead of a debriefing, there was a short walk as they followed a...bird. When did Jet get a bird???

Well. Whatever. Jet's goblin bird led them to the outside of a crumbling structure, greatly resembling a shopping mall. One that had been destroyed in some sort of Island shudder... But this wasn't an island? What was it called?
Or maybe some large and powerful human realm creature tore it up. Like. A tiger or something.

The once angel entered behind Jet, through a creaky exit marked by a flickering green sign.
Oh, wait- no. Despite Lan's expectations the exit door didn't creak in the slightest. The fight-ring-fuck-heads must have oiled it or something.

Lan did follow quietly. Shockingly enough.
Despite his natural talent for stumbling into the center of attention via loud words and colorful curses; with his voice somewhat out of commission and children's safety on the line, he was almost entirely silent. A soft, controlled breathing became the only noise that managed to escape his lips. The light steps he took nearly inaudible as worn boot sole met flooring.

The temporary human paused as Jet did, taking in their shared surroundings. Gold eyes darted quickly, and then settled to wander when no immediate threat was spotted.

The place seemed closer to an underwater fight ring than an underground one, but ok.

" What are-" he whispered, voice still hoarse as his enhanced healing was paused by the license. Unfortunately, the fight began before Lan could finish his sentence ; and like an easily distracted puppy meeting a squirrel; his attention was grabbed.

Some werewolf creature and a... weed horse fought. Dodging and splashing and grappling. Lan was supposed to be here to stop it, of course. It was illegal. People could get hurt- but right now there was only one thought bouncing around the empty teacup that was supposed to hold a brain.

That looked.
Really fun.

He had meant to keep the thought to himself, but unfortunately his mouth listened to no-one. Not even Lan himself, and the very last words slipped from his lips. Muttered absentmindedly- watching with wide and focused eyes as a piece of river weed wrapped itself around the were's neck.
His nose scrunched, Lan shook his head as if awoken by the sound of his own coarse voice.

" I mean- what the fuck is the game plan here? " he directed the question mostly to Jet; considering he was the only one kid-bitch had decided to give the paperwork.

 

[BittyBobcat]

Gray
Turtll - Arii & Jet ( ScatheAriiasqDrayceon ), Lan ( Tapfic ), Artemis ( Cello. ), Ren ( Gao ) Val ( FireMaiden )
So... they had a bird now. A bird that he was fairly certain was actually the kid they'd just met, but that was... more or less unrelated (if a bit hyprocritical). Whatever the case, he followed quietly behind Jet who, unfortunately, seemed to be the single person privy to the information within the ridiculously large stack of papers their informant had gathered. Which was only slightly infuriating. Especially considering the fact that he was leading them into a crumbling wreck of a building that looked liable to collapse at any moment, but fine. He had shielder potions on-hand anyway.

At the very least, he found himself trusting their intel an ounce more when the gate didn't creak. Anything rusty as that piece of junk should've squeaked louder than a mouse's violin, and if it didn't then something—more accurately, someone—had to be keeping the hinges clear.

He entered just in time to spot a tongue of flame bursting from a hellhound's mouth, sending one side of the loose ring of people scrambling out of the way. Among the muttered complaints, one of them shouted, "Watch where you're shooting, asshole! You almost got the charm-cart!" and gestured to what Gray could only assume was said charm cart. It looked like a busted up library cart stained green on the bottom where murky water lapped at its wheels and covered in a strange assortment of necklaces, pins, glasses, and other accessories.

The hellhound—now labelled "asshole" until further notice—didn't seem to care. With burning vines receding into the shallow pools at their side, they scampered away from the water's edge and spat yet another stream of fire (though, this one was thankfully landed on the ground in front of their opponent and quickly fizzled out on the damp tile).

Gray was beginning to see why these people got reported.

"Really fun... I mean- what the fuck is the game plan here?"

The reason they were allowed to even consider taking this mission, however, was rapidly becoming the next mystery.

"I would think that not loudly announcing we have one in the first place would be an obvious component," he muttered under his breath just loud enough for the angel next to him to hear. "Didn't you read the brief?" To avoid hypocrisy, he continued whispering, but his annoyance was evident enough by the scowl on his face that even someone chancing to look in their direction from across the mall could probably guess he was chewing someone out.

 

[Gao]

Funai Ren
Location: Turtll
Interactions/Mentions: BittyBobcat (Gray) + Cello. (Hunter) + Tapfic (Lan) + FireMaiden (Val) + ScatheAriiasqDrayceon (Jet + Arii)

---

He didn’t get given the gun.

How selfish.

What if he died?

Despite the failed attempt at obtaining a firearm, there was silent recognition that a mistake was made. Pouncing out of nowhere wielding a pen was considered to most, not civil, and the demon did the grand honour of withdrawing into sheepish silence after such a mishap. Getting fired would not be atypical for the habitually disruptive individual, but the determination to keep his job outweighed running completely amok.

And for a short while, the mnemonic worked. If one ignored the “spspsps” and hurried steps of frantic pursuit, the demon kept relatively quiet on their journey. Too preoccupied following the path-finding-bird like a pig after a carrot to take notice of much else. A collapsing building, a safety hazard to some, was only a cornucopia of adventure. Any sentiment of stealth was either not considered, or gone ignored by the demon, bustling with energy that could put crack-addicts to shame. Being outside and in human land had him perky.

While inherently rancid, the smell of lethargic water was met with a faint wince. An assault to his senses, but tolerable when the promise of fighting kids was within reach. He’d only just glimpsed the ring of people below when in an excited whisper, “where’s the betting?” Ren was not above gambling, and neither would anyone else if they had the tips and tricks to borrow their coins back for another round. “And.. and the popcorn?” He’d never attended a fight-ring, skewed expectations sure to lead the experience astray.

He was also hungry.

A flash of flame drew his appetite elsewhere, honing in on the event they had arrived for.

“Huh.” Ren’s eyes narrowed, lips parting in wordless confusion. For a long while the demon needed to process the scene, squinting against inhibited vision and a distance that left petting animals long to be desired-

Animals.

Animals playing in the water.

“-Really fun,” murmured someone nearby. Which was followed shortly after by an equally intelligent whisper:

“Pet show.” Ren was fully confident in his airy-voiced declaration. Prior talk of ‘fight-club’ hogwash dissolved to the growing awe of fluffy creatures. How pretty and soft and in dire need for a home. A dog and a… a water dog.

“I want them!” Prompt to announce his claim in a loud hiss, a gloved finger pointed at the two below. “They’re mine. Rens. I call dibs, so everyone else can look away and back off.”

Alas, adoption fees were to be a hindrance. Evil scheming eyes slid from watching the pair to the group of lancers, a silent glance that radiated anything but safety. ‘Oh no’ would be the correct sentiment. If the demon’s tail were present, there’d be doubt it’d be whipping across the ground in wild succession.

Kitty– or the dishevelled was-once-Kitty, would surely not have any money. On Ren’s path to be a good person he was also certain there were moral issues stealing from hobos, staying his intemperate demand for somebody else. The short one was too selfish to even share a measly little feather, no luck in schmoozing some coin from somebody so heartless to his doe-eyed troubles. The once-floating pale one wouldn’t give him the rat, such a greedy gatekeeper, leaving only two victims in Ren’s money-grubbing vicinity.

Ponytail or Big Bird.

Tiptoeing his way over to Jet first with a little smile and such obvious intention, it’d almost seemed fitting if a keyboard tinkle sounded each step.

“Can you get them for me~?” The happy charm expired fast, smile dying and an impatient hand extending in the recurring ‘give’ demand. “Come on buddy, pay up. You’re old and probably got money, don’t be scrooging.”

"Watch where you're shooting, asshole! You almost got the-” He would fault how his heart stirred to the temptation, a siren’s call of sugar-spun words: “-charm-cart!”.

Oh, sweet temptress.

In spite of a weak attempt at self-control, Ren’s gaze was drawn with indulgent ease to the trinkets, ensnaring the tar-like substance of his attention. No matter the way itching fingers dug into the palm of his hand or teeth caught his lower lip, there’d be no deterring how Ren hummed to know more. Curiosity for the cold of pristine metal, jewels that could noose his swan-neck and cuff the narrow of his wrists. Or perhaps that cart, a forbidden lover that was honey-rich in presumed valuables, would host the greatest item of all;

Ren possessed an insatiable hunger for food, shinies, and tacky phone charms.

Fighting children was irrelevant. That treasury would be his, pried away from his cold dead fingers if need be.

Turning back to the present company who seemed to be in debate over the current plan– or lack thereof, the mysterious paperwork, most likely filled with those foul little symbols called letters and god forbid, words, was thankfully not distributed amongst them. Ren had much better things to do than read, and quite honestly, preferred the complete lack of direction.

He was also bad at reading. But that’s completely irrelevant and nobody’s business.

“You know I-” fidgety fingers tapping together, Ren smiled nervously, “I actually just remembered I have somewhere to be.” What a shame! “Somewhere,” he motioned at the crowd below, “somewhere down there. Next to the shiny things.” Like a dog holding forbidden food in it’s mouth, eyes darted between the cart and the group. “Conveniently.” An inconspicuous foot had started moving slowly behind in preparation to scamper off for his beloved sparklies.

“Super busy, but I’m sure you all understand! I've double booked. It's tax season. Pregnant. So, I’ll just leave you guys to it!”

 

[Cello.]

Artemis de Vos
Interactions: Tapfic (Lan) Gao (Ren) BittyBobcat (Gray and Peter) ScatheAriiasqDrayceon (Jet and Arii) Klown (Arc) FireMaiden (Val)
Location: Turtll
Mood: PUPPPPYYYY!!!​

Ren attempted to get the gun from Platinum in the most non-convincing way possible. If you want to do it, you fight for it and then grab it, shoot the owner and render them dead. Though Jet would probably not like them anymore if they shot his husband. There was a little bit more discussion, mainly just Arii insulting Lan in any way possible.

After a bit more bickering, Arii lead them from the house, in bird form down backroads to a run-down mall. The outside was crumbling, moss and plants creeping out of the cracks. Quiet whispers to Artemis who couldnt quite decipher what it was but the plants seemed angry. She ran a hand over one of the walls, stones and peeling plaster pricking her fingers. A door stood on the other end of the building with a flickering green exit sign.

Quiet fingers grabbed ahold of the handle, pushing past a couple of other lancers. Fighting was her thing after all! So it was only right if she went in and saw it first! Oddly enough the door didnt creek and swung quietly on its hinges. Oiled. Someone didnt want others to know if they were here.

Tilting her head up, she entered the ruins of the building. Eyes darting around the ruble that was piled hazardously in staggering piles around them. A clear view of the fight below where people circled around it. Artemis’ eyes glittered in excitement. She could punch someone without getting in trouble!! She could participate in the fights, maybe get some moolah and then end it. Nodding silently to herself, she glanced at the lancers before facing the underground area again.

Though it was more underwater than underground with the way water was pooling around all their feet, something that made her recoil silently. Water was disgusting and slippery and cold. The beast prowling beneath her skin had been quiet, retreating to the darkest corners inside of her but at the sight of the liquid, it snarled and clawed.

Her eyes then landed on the scroungy dog thing fighting a seaweed horse- no a kelpie. An unearthly growl erupted from her as she started forward but a burst of flame made her pause. That wasnt her flame. Which meant…. Other fire beings that werent a balloon!!!

”They’re mine. Rens. I call dibs, so everyone else can look away and back off.”

Artemis slowly turned towards the demon, a death glare set in her eyes. “Ill fight you for the hellhound. That one is mine. Its fire. Im fire. Its a calling from the heavens. A match that cannot be broken.” More fire was shot at the water puppy but was put out, attention no longer on the demon but silently cheering the fire puppy on.

“Come on,” She whispered and leaned forward. Maybe she should go help the hellhound. It would appreciate her help and would come with her. They could keep each other warm at night. Another dog. She needed it. She would take care of it. Little family. Screw the mission right now.

She could go have a little fun and get her puppy, which was also sometimes a human but still a puppy. Plus it would be better for her to get this out of her system now before it got turned towards her fellow lancers. They would totally agree! With a side glance at the fight, she stepped back slowly. “Oh how convenient! I also have somewhere to be. Down there. Throwing a fist or two. Cutting out an eyeball! The normal! I will catch up with you all when you come down! Dont rush! Ill even take Ren with me!” Grabbing the demons arm, she took another step back before twisting and running down towards her own living fire-breathing treasure.

 

[BittyBobcat]

Peter Rilenhou
Turtll - Lan ( Tapfic ), Ren ( Gao ), Jet & Arii ( ScatheAriiasqDrayceon ), Val ( FireMaiden ), Artemis ( Cello )

"Watch where you're shooting, asshole! You almost got the charm-cart!"

Peter would've snarled a nasty reply along the lines of 'something something your mom', but it seemed he wasn't going to be allowed the luxury. After blasting fire for a second time, a thin shadow in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Kale always had been a bit of a one-trick pony (pun and offense fully intended). If he wasn't actively avoiding getting strangled, he might've found it boring.

Kale could be as repetitive as he wanted, but Peter always made it a point of pride to spice things up. As such, when the vine shot forward, he decided that this time he was going to bite it.

Of course, the second his jaw closed around it, he was painfully reminded of the fact that they were rock-fucking-hard, but it was too late now. He had it in his clutches and he was going to win this game of tug-of-war, thank you very much. He flicked his ears at Kale's nervous whinny and pulled, growling all the while. Hoofsteps sounded off from the other end of the ring. Not much line to work with, but it'd do.

When there wasn't a second to spare to escape the hooves coming crashing down toward his face, he gave one final tug.

The resident weed horse tripped.

Peter took that moment to pounce.

He landed with one paw over Kale's chest, pinning him down with a strength that didn't look like it should belong to a scrawny (albeit large) dog like him. The kelpie wiggled slightly, head leaning down to nip him, but—finding this effort fruitless—he huffed and glared him in the eyes. Slowly, the sticky fur coating his body receded, leaving behind a red-haired human that was only slightly larger than the hellhound on top of him.

"Alright, alright! You proved your point, now get off!"

Peter let loose a howling laugh as he shifted back, only doing as he was told once Kale shoved him to the side. "You got AT-ATed, bitch! Told ya' I could do it without the dupes." He grinned, holding down a hand to help Kale up (it went ignored).

"I'm gonna have bruises for weeks, y'now that?" The kelpie's yelling echoed in the (mostly) abandonded mall, covering the voices of everyone else in the area. "Fucking jackass."

"You're just salty cause ya' lost," Peter chirped, scrambling off the edge of the ring as the grin dropped hesitantly off his face despite the forced bounce in hist step. He meandered over to the charm-cart and snatched his necklace—a cross on a thin, silver chain—out of habit. It's not that he didn't trust the people here, of course, but it felt stupid just to leave it sitting out like that. "Besides," his tail flicked as he shoved it in his pocket, "at least you didn't almost get trampled."

"Yeah, yeah." Kale waved his hand vaguely in Peter's direction. "We're even or whatever-the-fuck."

His grin returned full-force, putting his still-sharpened teeth on display. "We're even and I won the bet."

He earned a double-handed flipping-off for that. Worth it.

 

[ScatheAriiasqDrayceon]

Ariiasqthylinh Kaedos
Turtll Lan ( Tapfic ), Ren ( Gao ), Peter/Gray ( BittyBobcat , Val ( FireMaiden ), Artemis ( Cello )

Three minutes; seventeen seconds. Not counting travel-time, that was just about how long it took shit to go sideways.

Not that Arii was counting.

Already, Ferret was muttering about how much “fun” the fight ring looked, but that was hardly the first thing on their mind as Hunter—the first to burst in—snapped at Demon-Mc-Shirtless to fight her for the hellhound for the reason of "That one is mine. Its fire. I'm fire. Its a calling from the heavens. A match that cannot be broken." Ariiasq opted not to mention that they were also, technically fire-aligned. They enjoyed their freedom, thank you.

Their only saving grace was the one that looked worse than Jet did pre-coffee.

They recognized Jet explaining that reconnaissance was the only thing they actually needed to do—disbanding it quietly a task for someone of a higher rank—because of his whispering hiss of “We aren’t here to claim ownership of anything other than information”. And they only realized he was spreading the members list because he slipped a piece of paper under one of their talons; their mind was somewhere else.

As the—quite loud—for a stealth mission—arguments escalated, Arii went from fluffing their feathers in mild annoyance to finding the nearest person—they didn’t check who past whether it wasn’t Jet or Pre-Coffee-Looking-Man—and using that sharp little predator beak of theirs to bite down as hard as they could.

An airy hiss filled only the space between the current party, followed quite quickly by a broken, barely-English “Idiots, be quiet” sloppily spoken both around cloth and a rigid bone beak.

They were never recommending a mission be listed as C-class ever again.

And then everything was immediately made worse when whoever they were biting lurched, immediately dragging them forward at least a few feet before they remembered to let go.

Arii heard Jet hiss something under his breath, and an arm was immediately under their claws to scrabble at.

By the time they’d found their footing, Arii discovered that Hunter had simply run off down the hill of rubble and toward the ring, dragging the demon behind her like the world’s most disappointing and irritating balloon.

Arii’s blood-lined beak clicked disdainfully.

Idiots.

Idiots all of them.

Feathers shuddered as they hopped down from Jet’s arm. Claws—blue as the twilight hours of winter—hit the ground with a clack, they wished they’d managed to convince Jet to take them to that aviary so they could have bitten that owl. It would have been useful.

Instead they settled to rasp a “‘Ey wou’n’t know importance if it stabbed them in the face,” in the same broken English they’d been speaking all day.

Jet sighed with basically his entire lung capacity, pushing himself out of his crouch. “Follow them or see what happens?” he mumbled, looking to the other two of the party with the expression that although looked just like his “neutral face”, Arii had learned to associate with tricky questions like the train question and Platinum’s “What do you do if _” questions.

Arii didn’t like that expression.

That was a slippery expression that brought nothing but long conversations with no answer.

 

[Tapfic]

Lan
Location: Turtll
Interactions:
( Ren @ Gao ) , Artemis ( @ Cello. )
Mentioned:
Gray ( @ BittyBobcat ), Jet (@ ScatheAriiasqDrayceon )
​

"I would think that not loudly announcing we have one in the first place would be an obvious component, didn't you read the brief?"

" Uh, " he had. He had most certainly read the little blurb that had come underneath the name of the posted mission. He was just... Having trouble recalling what exactly it said at the moment.

Unfortunately, before any semblance of coherent defense could be made- two other members of the party had decided to start down towards the ring; proclaiming their respective intents to kidnap an entire fucking hell hound. Lan was following behind at the first sign of ill-advised movement of course. Like some small and sucky sheep dog trying to heard a wolf pack.

" Wait, you fucking dick heads- you can't just call dibs on an entire person! " Or... could they? Is that how it worked on the surface? Just call dibs on whoever you felt like and drag them off?
No.
No it couldn't be. That would be chaos. Ridiculous. No way for a society to function.
Right?

Previously, he had been relying on the sore throat to keep his volume down- but with the sting now almost completely faded from his throat and memory... Lan only realized his call had been a bit too far above a whisper after it was already passed his lips- though luckily no one of importance seemed to take notice. Yet.

With one hand now clamped firmly over his traitorous mouth, he scampered after the two vagabonds.
Sadly, however wise the move may have been- the aforementioned hand did not last very long against Lan's idiotic ire and need to run his mouth like it was a prized race horse.

" This is a recon mission," Lan spoke in an angered whisper as he caught up " We've recon-ed! We've seen the shit! Now lets go you fucking loons!" It seemed he had, in fact, read the brief. Why only now his brain decided to provide that information? Probably because it hated him or something- he didn't know.

An arm shot out, and wrapped around the other two- holding onto where Mask Bitch had linked arms and dragged Handsy along. Embarrassingly enough, the angel was not quite used to being this weak ( thanks to the license that hung on a ribbon around his neck ) and he was dragged along. Only a few inches, as the soles of his boots found traction against the rough concrete floor stopped sliding- but long enough to deepen his scowl and tinge his cheeks with pink.

Lan looked back to the others for support- unfortunately one did not look too keen to help , one did not look like he possessed the muscle nor the energy to do so- and one was a bird.

 

[Klown]

K L E O
Location: Front Desk
With: Eustace (Caretaker) , Winnie, Rika [ Tapfic ]

Kleo shakily accepts the clipboard, a timid smile hidden beneath his mask that had appeared during the item's conjuration. Rika's magic was as fascinating as he remembered it. His tail sways merrily at the sight of it.

It's during this exchange that he misses Ambia's approach. Lost in wistful memories of Rika's magic with eyes scanning the paperwork but not retaining any of the information. The sound of his name doesn't register at first. The familiarity of the voice from which it resonated nearly startled him away.

Kleo's head tilts towards the voice, eyes widening at the familiar scruff of white fur. Upon the immediate recognition, Kleo's tail begins to swipe back and forth with purpose and absolutely no mind to whoever might be in hitting range. Eustace's leg is whacked quite a few times, but rather than urge Kleo to calm down, he makes a step of space.

Kleo nods his head once, twice, so hard he might crack his neck. His hands drop the clipboard and reach for Ambia, but his fingers jolt into an abrupt stop as uncertainty blasts him back into the years of formality drilled into him at the Vampyr agency. As well as his uncertainty as to where he stood with Ambia now after all these years.

 

[Tapfic]

Ambia (NPC)
Interaction: Kleo ( Klown )

" Kleo! "
Ambia could feel her tail move, waggong back and forth with an over exited lack of grace; but she wasn't quite sure at what point it had actually begun moving.

In seconds ( enough time for Kleo to begin to reach his hands outwards; but not enough for either agency head to process his hesitance ) Ambia had moved. With practice ease her gloved arms shot forward, and dragged her little one close. Until his paws had been lifted completely off of the ground in a furry hug.

Rika's eyes lit with recognization not long after, and her lips parted in a bright smile. The witch was never quite so physical with her affection as Ambia, but her joy leaked so obviously into every bouncy movment she was mostly understood. She would have reached up for a headpat, unfortunately her wife's hug had put the fluff of Kleo's head a little too far up for her to reach.

The moment was nearly wonderful, only tainted by two troubling questions.

'Why had they called him Chameleon?'

' Why was there a mask over his face?'

But now was not the best time to seek answers, not yet at least.

 

[BittyBobcat]

Collab Post With:
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Tapfic
Characters
Gray (me)
Arii, Jet (Scathe)
Lan (Tap)

Turtll (abandoned shopping center) - Artmeis ( Cello. ), Ren ( Gao )

“Will you stop yelling?” Gray hissed, half expecting to feel his ears folding flat against his head until he remembered ‘oh right, human ears.’ No sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard one of the a shout from below.

“Who the fuck—” A young voice. Teenaged?

“Shut up, dipshit, do you want them to hear us?” Notably, this was said very loudly.

Another one, in a whisper, “I think it’s coming from the second level.”

“Shit.”

Arii found that the longer they watched, the more they began to detest coming on this mission. One mission. One simple mission. Just make sure they weren’t pulling on the agency’s leg.

Such a simple thing that went so wrong.

Gray reluctantly shrunk back toward the others, casting a typically cat-ish glare of haughty dislike over them all the while. “Runt’s got a point,” he grumbled, watching the ring dissolve like a swarm of ants running from an oncoming boot out of the corner of his eye.

” Stop with the Runt name, Pasty Bitch.” Lan took the sudden chaos as an invitation, he tore the ribbon of his license and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. With that, the seal was broken and his natural “angelic” status restored. Lan grabbed the problems by their respective waists and dragged them back.

Gray bit back another nickname (and the urge to point out that ripping off his license in the middle of the human realm was just about the most illegal thing they could do short of… no, actually, it was the most illegal thing they could do). Desperate times, desperate measures—coworkers about to do something fairly illegal, time to do something even more illegal to stop them… something like that.

He followed with his ever-resentful expression plain in the narrowed eyes and scowl on his face.

Jet hummed, watching the clutter of his “party”—such that they were—scuttle down the ramp of debris. Choice made, he trailed at a more sedate pace, hands in his jacket pockets. Well… hand, singular, as the other was quickly occupied by a fuming, mostly-fledged raven who snapped at the air.

Arii didn’t like it when things didn’t go to plan; he knew this.

He also knew, however, that they were hard to please on any day and this probably wasn’t going to go to plan in the first place.

Even so, their frustration wasn’t unwarranted, and he smoothed the ruffled feathers of their crest in the hopes they wouldn’t try biting anyone else.