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

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HITOSHI YAMAKAWA
CS Link
SCENE:
LYRICAL MISERY
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3; Nov 11, 2021
LOCATION:
THE SERENITY - BAR AND EATERY, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Hiachi
LYRICAL MISERY
And just like that, the tables had been turned just as quickly. Now he was asked the question that he struggled to find an answer to. Immediately he wondered what would be the worst possible answer to give and how to avoid it. "Uuuuuuuuh..." the Phoenix veteran vocalized, his eyes darting from side to side as the gears in his head desperately tried to compute a proper response. However, a part of him realized there was a major problem and immediately instituted self-defence mechanisms for a situation like this.

Abort, sire! No answer will satisfy!
Why do you care so much what she thinks?
Capitaine, vascular systems are showing strain-

A slight heart palpitation - whether from the sudden rush of anxiety or the lack of concentrated speed in his system - jolted him back to reality. "I'm far too old to be drinking this much!" he responded, sidestepping the question with a response to one that hadn't even been asked. "But who gives a fuck... I'm here to have a good time, like everyone else." There was truth to it at the surface level, but - for someone like Hiachi - it was recognizeable that beyond this top was something else simmering underneath. The bartender placed three small glasses in front of the dishevelled man who, in turn, placed what cash he had on him to pay them off.

Taking a large swig from one, he felt the smooth liquor jolt down his throat with ease. Years of experience allowed him to ignore the burning sensations and harsh tastes of such strong drinks, and in turn chug at them like a horse. "Aahh, hooooaahh... hits the spot." Hitoshi muttered before turning back to his conversationalist. "The name's Hitoshi. And, before the night is over, I'll be kicked out of here like I have been in so many other places." he said with a grin, though not of confidence or arrogance.

It was an expression of pain.


miki miki
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
June 13, 2022 || Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Kisara ( simj26 simj26 ), Keith( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Takakazu
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection

What was that he smelt? Something burning?

Tak raised his head as the slightest bit of sparks hung to the ends of his messy hair, the tiny fires sending faint streams of smoke into the air above him as they continued to burn, the lack of moisture in his hair only acting as kindling as the fire continued to burn. He looked around, blinking as he didn’t notice the enormous burn mark that had decorated the wall behind him, as if someone had dragged a giant marker across the bricks.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Keith climbing back up to his feet for whatever reason. He must have forgotten to tie his shoe, too. Was he getting ready to run, so he was lacing up? That thought caused Tak’s expression to sour as he reached down to pick up the mirror that had broken off his scooter from the ground. Instead of hearing Keith’s warning to run, Tak approached, clearly annoyed with the man who seemed unwilling to take the blame for his mistake.

“Oi, oi! Don’t go tryin’ to get out of this! It’s time someone teaches you a lesson in responsibility!” Tak declared, swinging the mirror around to punctuate his point. He didn’t even register as a beam slammed into the mirror, comically bouncing off it with only the sound of whizzing through the air as it rebounded from whence it came.

His other hand reached forward to grab Keith by his collar, bringing the redhead close to get a good whiff of his cheap hygiene products as he bore into his eyes, ensuring he understood he meant business.

“You know how the world works, right? You gotta pay your dues! You owe me 500 bucks to repair the damage! If you ain’t got it, then you at least gotta give me some personal information so we can settle it!” Tak declared, jabbing a finger into the man’s chest with authority.

After his scolding, he simply gave a sigh and a shake of his head. At the end of the day, he was clearly dealing with some anxious wreck, a guy who had never experienced real life. Based on his panic, he was just worried that Tak would beat him up or bring him to a loan shark. He felt a bit sorry for him; being that unaware definitely was unfortunate.

His expression softened, as softened as butter was right out of the fridge, as he glared back at Keith, “Listen, just give me some personal information. A name, a phone number, and an address, and we can deal with this later. I got places to go, and I’m sure you got more important things to deal with, too.”

He was right, but he was unaware of how right he was; as a pan over his shoulder revealed the blurred form of the pink-haired menace he was still utterly oblivious to.

At that point, the fire in his hair had turned into a mini inferno; Tak sniffed the air as he looked around.

“Someone cookin’ barbeque? Guess the weather is pretty nice out right now…”


 
MARKUS WEISS
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Jesper
CLAD IN GOLDEN DREAMS
Passeri's directive elicited a deadpan stare from the meatheaded juggernaut who had Tak's whole shoulder under his paw. The lummox—what was his name again? Something with a 'B'? "Bulldozer"? Briggs?—turned to Markus, the unspoken question, 'Wot shud I do, Boss?' written plainly across his simple features.

Markus only nodded, feeling a little smug, a little vindicated, that his gun for hire only shot when he said, only who he said. Not that he disagreed with Passeri's course. The sooner the dumbass in the tuxedo tee was out of Markus' eye line, the sooner the Tiger King could rein in his mounting blood pressure... The sooner was the better for the both of them, really... If the twitch simmering just below the surface of Park's almost perfectly pristine expression was anything to go by.

Not that it mattered.

By the time Park sat down, Markus was already checked out. Over it. Done. He heard his name pass through familiar lips but he didn't look over. He didn't look at anything in that moment as he quietly counted the seconds as they passed, waiting to make his exit—and his displeasure—clear as crystal.

He'd have stormed out already if it weren't for the dimmed lights. He wasn't planning on going out quietly, slinking around the darkened dance floor like the help, sifting through a back door next to the dumpsters.

Oh, no.

He wanted the entire ballroom to get a good look at him as he went, to take all of him in. And when he went, he hoped against hope that somehow, some way, the universe would make it clear to all in attendance that the future wealth and prosperity of every socialite and industry titan under this roof would go with him. He'd store their faces in the ironclad vault of his memory, mentally tallying every guest against the ledger of current donors to the Tigers' own fleet of... Charitable organizations. He'd squeeze every last one of them, every soul, every institution; they were all ripe for his picking. It was exactly what Markus thought they deserved. It was this pleasant nugget of a thought alone that kept him content as he waited for the opportune moment.


He'd had a plan, or so he thought: ignore and then get the fuck out of dodge. But when Passeri said his name the second time... For some reason that just pissed him off.

"... Eh?" The tenor of his voice, low and aggressive, made it abundantly clear what direction this conversation was heading in. The situation, in a funny sort of way, reminded him of how, once in a blue moon—rarer now than back then—people had tried to get chummy with him. Too chummy. Too familiar. Forgot their place.

Was this one of those times? Maybe.

Did he care. Hell no.

Markus squared his shoulders, laid his forearm forcefully down on the table and leaned over it, his eyes narrowing into slits; he was gearing up to really give it to her. Markus took a breath then parted his lips to speak, saying, "What—"

As if on cue, the whole ballroom turned upside down. Without even needing to check on "Bulldozer" Briggs, Markus knew—somehow, he knew—that tuxedo t-shirt was responsible for the chaos that was now unleashed upon the gala. Tables strewn in disarray, glasses shattered, partygoers exchanging aghast expressions. Markus', by comparison, was cool, calm, and collected. It was the expression of a man who'd instantly made up his mind.

Almost instantaneously his body reached the same conclusion his mind had churned towards. Markus lurched to his feet. The movement was all coiled power. His hand shot out, fingers trailing frigid mist as ice crystallized up the length of his forearm. His eyes and fingertips were angled on the trail of carnage, and beyond, behind a few flimsy doors and walls, the one who'd caused it. A man who, in one act, had marked himself as a bad investment, which in Markus' mind was tantamount to saying, as good as dead.

Whatever this was, Markus wasn't going to allow it to continue.

Behind him his entourage sensed his intent and followed his lead. They were a shadow, his shadow.

But then the equation changed when, in the microscopic shifting of fabric as his body extricated itself from the chair it had occupied all evening, something snagged. He heard the unmistakeable tearing of expensive Fusilian wool and turned to peer down at the inexplicable obsidian thorn that had emerged like a fresh spring bud from the torn upholstery.

Slowly, Markus' eyes trailed upwards before stopping at the half-obscured visage of a pale, tattooed woman in a suit with wide, pale eyes crouching behind his chair. Markus recognized her. They called her Shrike, after some species of bird that supposedly impale their prey on thorny spikes...

The air changed. A shadow had moved where no shadow should be, and Markus's instincts had him twisting away again just as the gleam of a second thorny spear arced towards his throat.

Even as the assassination attempt carried on, Markus' thoughts hitched on one fact alone: If I hadn't moved when I did...


 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Hide & Seek
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Daytime, June 30th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Keith
Hide & Seek
Immaculate satisfaction came over Keith as he inflicted damage upon his fleeing prey. The elusive creature gave him a most unpleasant time during their chase, as it was more fun when his targets tried to fight back, or fruitlessly begged for mercy. This serpent was the kind to commit the regular atrocities from their kin, but without even having the backbone of facing what was rightfully owed in the shape of karmic forces.

But Keith's smile of satisfaction slowly morphed, upturned lips falling down into an open-mouth frown, his contracted cinnabar pupils projecting his realization of his grave mistake. Rushing to the edge of the park, the dragon's bladed fingers held onto the aged metal railing which kept people safer from the nasty fall ahead. He leaned his head forward, managing to catch a glimps of the girl's silhouette falling down and into the water, a large splash forming on the exact location the small black dot which her form eventually turned into landed on. She disappeared from his sight as her collision caused ripples in a large area.

Keith stared at the sight for a prolonged moment, a single drop of sweat falling from the side of his head, as worry was written all over his face. It was very possible that the serpent had died from that. The punch itself might have not been lethal in of itself, and neither would such a fall into the water (at least, for an HP). But both elements cooperated into a combination which resulted more deadly than the mere sum of its parts. However, it was very important that Keith made sure to follow her, and to confirm that her body now lied lifeless in the water., and if that was not the case, to make sure and correct it right there and then, with more visceral methods if necessary. The rookie would have eagerly followed up on such a task, nothing was too much for a good soldier like Keith. But Alas...

Keith didn't know how to swim.

A shameful truth about himself, but a truth nonetheless. The man had simply been too shy his whole life to properly go out of his way and learn the ways of aquatic mobility. And he had also never found much of a reason to actually bother to learn. Or at least, he did not until now.

It seemed like the second best approach was to take a bit of a gamble, and simply report back at HQ that the thread had been utterly eliminated, and that any chance of an interrogation had been thwarted by her bloodrhirsty resistance. History is written by the victors, and Keith would make good use of the title right now.

Turning around to begin his journey back to the base. The Dragon noticed the now numerous faces gazing directly at him, civilians who most likely had expectated his small performance from a minute ago. The range of expressioned went from quizzical, to concerned and even fearful. Keith could feel his cheeks turning a deep pink, he felt the civilians surround him with judgemental airs.

"N-Nothing to see here! That girl was an enemy from North District" He looked around, the people did not seem to buy his story all that much. "I-In any case...Y-You're all safe now, and it's my time to leave, so if you would excuse me" Looking as seriously as he could, he made a beeline for the opposite end of the part, pushing his way through the people as he reached for his gloves in his pocket, safely putting the disguise back on top of his hideous hands.

He almost fell like breaking down and crying on the spot, he might even have at an earlier point in his life. But now he was an Azure dreagon, even if he was but a rookie, the crimson-maned man knew it was his responsibility to keep appareances for the sake of the gang. He was a dragon now, and needed to let the civilians around him know that he was going to be no pushover...Not this time, at least.

Regardless if the mission was really a success or not, the fact that Keith got to injure, and potentially even kill, an annoying little serpent who reared her ugly head into a place she didn't belong to.

However, should he somehow meet her again in the future...Keith would make sure to get the job done, once and for all.



-SCENE END-


miki miki
 
Little Red
scene:
A Daughter’s Eulogy
location:
South District
date:
2021 | Post Hurricane
participants:
Red, Jericho
A Daughter’s Eulogy

As she was lifted into his arms, the fear settled in. Red built her infamy on slighting the sinners; taking advantage of those who took advantage of the innocent. She never had the time to be vulnerable when she was always on the offense. But without energy, she couldn’t take any stances.

And it was cold. She was still cold as she was nestled into this man’s grasp. Red shivered uncontrollably, and her teeth chattered within a closed mouth.

There was no time for that now.

He moved slowly, much slower than she was used to. She watched the clouds to distract herself. There were no shapes, but it was something to look at. Grey was better than ruin.

She was placed onto a couch, and a blanket was placed over her. The heavy fabric was laid up to her neck, slowly bringing feeling to the rest of her limbs. She could feel her fatigue in its entirety, but it was soothing to know she could still feel them.

She hesitated. To Red, it was an invisible block. Her father made sure to drill it into her: do not accept any food or drink from any strangers.

Even as he assured it was safe, her lip wavered. He must have sensed it. It was a kind gesture; one that she couldn’t trust.

Without words to express herself, Red gently nudged the glass away with her cheek. She tried her best to tilt it towards him. Then she nodded and pointed with sharp eyes, trying her best to imply: Prove it. You drink it.


 
SEBASTIAN SE
SCENE:
Stymied
LOCATION:
West District
TIME:
January 2020 | Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian, Vissarion
STYMIED
Oh, so this was what Vissarion looked like when he was worked up and angry. What an interesting sight. Sebastian thought that if he put some effort into it, he could make Vissarion into a scary monster. Maybe.

But Sebastian didn't let himself admire the look. He knew that Vissarion likely wouldn't appreciate any amount of tomfoolery, and so Sebastian put on his serious face, often only reserved for police meetings and the courtroom. And when Vissarion referenced him, Sebastian simply gave a small wave and stared with lidded eyes and a smile at the two businessmen, "Hello gentleman. Sebastian Se, Central District Prosecutor. A pleasure to meet you."

Etiquette-wise, it was a bit too late to be introducing himself, but Sebastian didn't worry about that. From what he could see, the businessmen didn't want to stay any longer than they had to. Perspiration beaded on their foreheads, dripping down the side of their faces as they listened to Vissarion's tirade of veiled threats and arguments.

"Look, we had the courtesy to not threaten you, please--" the businessman began. At that moment, Sebastian decided that this was the businesspeople's most vulnerable moment, when they were most likely to be cowed by violence. And so from his belt, Sebastian produced the long serrated dagger that he used for his murders, and he slammed it against the table. The businessman gulped and hastily said, "You'll be hearing from our lawyers soon."

And with that, the businessman made a hasty retreat from the meeting. In a matter of minutes, the room was vacated, leaving just Vissarion and Sebastian residing within it. Sebastian whistled, impressed. "You really have a way with words, Vissarion. Intimidating people into ending a meeting early."

Vissarion's way with words only made Sebastian like him all the more. With a small secretive smirk to himself, Sebastian wondered if Vissarion's tongue and lips were as agile in other ways than just with words.

"I'll take care of the lawyer thing by the way," Sebastian said, "No need to worry your pretty face into wrinkles about it."

Sebastian only had experience as a criminal lawyer, so civil cases were out of his ballpark of expertise. But that didn't mean that he couldn't get rid of the problem in a different way. With a little bit of research, Sebastian could figure out the businessmen's lawyers were, and then all Sebastian had to do was take them out. It seemed that sometime in the future, his bloodlust was going to be satisfied. But it wasn't good for Sebastian to indulge so often. It meant a higher chance of psychological dependence on murder. But when the opportunity was right there, could Sebastian be blamed for taking it?

"Are you okay though?" Sebastian asked Vissarion. The meeting might have been brief, but it was intense nonetheless. And Sebastian cared about Vissarion a relatively high amount considering his warped sense of empathy. Hopefully with the blackmail business taken care of, Vissarion and Sebastian could actually enjoy their night.

Slav Slav
 
FOUR-EYES & SAD SACK
NPC
SCENE:
[The Frog in the Well]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 22nd
LOCATION:
North District | Collapsed Worksite
PARTICIPANTS:
Rem, Kisara, Melody,
Deirest |
Areith
THE FROG IN THE WELL
Collapsed Worksite | Inside​
Rem, Kisara, Deirest, Melody, Angúo (NPC)

Four-eyes visited the newcomers, particularly the insistent Angúo, with a studious gaze. Her mulberry optics traced his obtrusive behavior, but left her ally to fend for themselves. There was a lack of shared words, but Sad Sack’s despondent lack of riposte allowed the situation to diffuse on its own. Especially with a much more mellow interjection from the strawberry woman.

“Uh…” The scrunched bag soughed. “Just like… milk and citru—”

“Don’t.”

Their dithering reach retracted back to their sides, the moment her voice pierced the exchange.

“We appreciate the gesture, but the unpleasant air of waste and decay has left us without an appetite.” She exacted. “Some extra hands will be good though. It’s our guess the victim’s head is—”

Eruptive actions explained better than any words, and the black-haired girl’s body once again fell in upon itself in surprise. Only this time, her composure did not return in a timely fashion. Her footing was lost, and she collapsed into her companion’s rushed attempt to catch her. Ultimately plunging the two of them into a hampered feeble balance.

“...That was…”

“Careless.” She finished for them.

The two confidants shared a silent exchange that ended with Four-eyes extending a tenuous nod. Then she returned her fluttering person to its earlier position, and the stolid facade across her face, before subsuming the new volley of information.

“If she was a Serpent after all, then I may have gotten it wrong.” She exhaled. “It’s hard to say. I mean we’re just a small splinter, and neither of us know this ‘Deirest’. Our… colleagues and us worked together of course, but we weren’t attached at the hip or anything.”

Her eyes churned.

“We landed a new gig.”

Sad Sack’s eyes reached hers.

“Just some outsourcing from some of the labs. It’s good enough cash that someone might have wanted to thin the split. Otherwise, I can’t see why anyone would do this.”

She faced the fresh guests once more.

“You seemed rather eager. Is this Deirest someone you—”

Her attentiveness shattered the moment the stem of the corpse began to squirm.

Collapsed Worksite | Below​
Kisara

Trash was right.

The stuff was seeping out of the lower foundation’s walls, and the entire structure practically groaned from the fresh wound it had been inflicted. There was plastic, and there was paper, and there was sludge not too unlike the common muck outside. Only there was worse too. There were bones stripped of all red, no doubt hidden underneath for decades—or at the very least too long to be related to the events of recent.

But there was also gore.

Masses of blistering blue that had been splattered from the discharge and not too distant from the crimson roots of a head embedded in the filth.

A more inopportune shot, and it may have reduced to cinders.
NAVIGATE
 
Last edited:
Elias Yumin
SCENE:
Backroom Dealings
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, June 21st 2022
LOCATION:
West District, Sarizara Restaurant
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Ryutaro, Samira, Jack, Elias,
Alice, Welsha, Dagger, Passeri
Backroom Dealings

“Noted,” Elias replied, a radiant smile to match Ryu’s intensity. Or rather, to deflect the intensity, bouncing it off the way an impervious person might brush aside negativity. All in all, the Queen had responded better than he'd expected to Elias’s unabashed thoughts and “tactful” attempts at weaseling his way into neutrality. He’d half expected the gangster to attack him. After all, most didn’t tend to respond well to the prodding of holes in their carefully crafted propaganda; Waves generally met resistance with force. Elias had never once forgotten where he was–surrounded by HP criminals displeased with Weiss’s reign–and who he was dealing with.

Of course, had such occurred, it would’ve only pushed him–who sat contently neutral–to the other side.

He might’ve gotten a chance to see the Tiger Queen’s potential as well.

Elias found it amusing that Dio had judged him to be risk-averse (a fair assessment to be sure) when he’d taken one of the bigger risks at the dinner so far–he’d given the Tigger Queen an answer to their speech. Made his stance clear. Elias would take Ryu’s side only if he managed to defeat Markus, potential or no potential. In other words, he would side with the winning hand. Cowardly, to be sure, but when one literally had zero reason to choose one side over the other the pragmatic choice was typically sound. The “betterment” of the Albino Tiger gang wasn’t something especially important to Elias. He’d once considered pushing Ronald into a leadership role for the sheer amusement of seeing an NP lead West District’s gang of delinquent Hps. The dangers Ryu spoke of mere hypothetical possibilities, lacking evidence, and spoken in a way that favored the Queen’s agenda; Power with a purpose only really worked when purposes aligned.

Besides, his playing favorites would taint the unfolding drama.

It wasn’t everyday one got to witness–and engrave into one’s memory–the beginnings of a gang coup, after all. A war for kingship. A battle between the King and the Queen would surely be a sight to behold.

Both hands holding the sake cup, Elias finished his meal, washing it down with a final gulp of alcohol. “I must say, I appreciate the Queen’s initiative in setting this up and their forewarnings about the things to come. Very informative. We should do this again sometime. Disconnect and lack of trust can only be healed by time spent together, after all.”

His words were directed at the entire table, but seeing as Ryu seemed to be setting his sights on Dagger next, Alice stewing in her own thoughts, Samira interacting with Jack, and Passeri someone he’d interact with for non-gang related work anyway, Elias’s glance landed on Camila. She’d been the first to bring up lack of trust, after all. If she took the Queen’s side, Welsha would surely follow. Similarly, if Passeri took the Queen’s side, Dagger would surely follow. Such information was important to know in gathering pieces…and he’d stick around to see how Team Queen gathered theirs so long as the dinner lasted.

The best part of the meal, for him, was the chargrilled squid–specifically the sauce.

Everything else, while high quality, was something Elias was familiar with. Good, but nothing special. There was a reason he’d spent 4 of his high school years in a public school in the East, after all. Mei would call him spoiled…but was he really? Eat anything enough times and it became the norm. Novelty excited him. He didn’t have a sad backstory. His life was perfect. He’d accepted Ronald’s “invitation” and paid the “membership fees” to become an Albino Tiger on a whim. Because he could.

The only thing left to do was reap the dividends.

“What do you think?” Elias asked the white haired girl playfully, though his gaze also flickered to her red-eyed assistant who hadn’t so much as spoken a word since the dinner began. He wanted to know their stance. He wanted to know everyone’s stance, but he’d settle for whatever he could get. There was a high chance they’d keep their thoughts to themselves anyway. “Are you ready to ride the waves of revolution~?”



@Chaos Gallant @Beann Roda the Red Roda the Red Peckinou Peckinou @AriAriAbabwa The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit simj26 simj26 joshuadim joshuadim
 
Last edited:
SHUWEI YUN & RURIKO IKEDA
SCENE:
Whispers at Dusk
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Taiyōkō Shrine, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Mirza, Hifumi, Ruriko, Shuwei
WHISPERS AT DUSK
Earlier that same Afternoon
Ever since joining the Azure Dragons, Ruriko had cut almost all contact with her family — except for her baby brother, Renjiro. Typically, she’d sneak back into her family estate to surprise him but this time, he had reached out to her via text. At the time, she was bothering Shuwei with her usual bombardment of questions regarding the newest plant he acquired but the message sounded urgent despite its vague context so naturally she dragged him along to visit the Ikeda estate.

Just as she portal’ed the two of them into Renjiro’s room, she found herself staring at the faces of her disapproving parents, and her baby brother, smiling blissfully between them. It was a setup — some sort of intervention. At least, that’s what she thought it to be until they quickly explained the situation. The Taiyōkō Shrine had been attacked last night and Eun Bae, along with others had been kidnapped.

The Bae Family…

Memories of her childhood overwhelmed her as she recalled her family’s relationship to the Bae Family. From what she remembered, they were always on good terms — they had to be given the dying structure of traditional clans. She was only close to Jae-sung Bae as they sparred together in their younger years but considering he turned traitor, she didn’t see a reason to help the family out. However, old and sentimental memories always influenced Ruriko’s decision-making, so she reluctantly agreed to look into the matter.

Present Time
By foot, the two had made their way to the Heiwana Sasayaki area. There was something about hanging around Shuwei that made her want to use her potential less. Her portals were always used to shorten the journey between point A to point B but with him, she found herself enjoying the journey rather than reaching the destination. Their pleasant walk eventually came to an end though as they arrived at the gates that confined the shrine.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left the festival early — could have prevented the attack,” Ruriko sighed more to herself than at Shuwei before glancing at the figures posted at the front of the gate.

“It couldn’t have been helped,” Shuwei replied, uncertain if he was saying so to convince Ruriko or himself as he followed her dutifully to the front gates.

Glancing at the faces arrayed before them, Ruriko had the sinking feeling of déjà vu. They all looked familiar…like she had seen them before but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. In any case, she approached the gate and was promptly stopped by one of them.

“The shrine is closed to visitors,” an average-looking man towered over her, attempting to appear intimidating by contorting his face in various expressions.

Before either party could mince words on the matter, Shuwei stepped forward and declared himself. “I am Shuwei Yun. I come on behalf of the Yun clan. And this,” He half-turned to Ruriko, paused, then thought better of it, before turning back to face the guard. “... The Yun Clan extends its utmost sympathies to the Bae Clan. My father, Faa Yun, was overwhelmed when he heard the news. I have been tasked with taking word to him of the situation... Once I have seen it with my own eyes.”

Petty guards ought not trouble them again, or risk arousing the ire of the Dragon King... Former, or otherwise.

 
LOCATION:
Caio's Bedroom, North District
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2 | September 18th(???), 2021, 03:10 AM
PARTICIPANTS:
Tri, Caio
Top and Top

Tri scooted over to make room for Caio, of which he immediately snuggled close as a large spoon. His stomach warmed against Caio's wide back. He liked Caio's back. Broad, firm, good looking, warm. He wanted a back like that, but Caio's was fine for now. Tri buried his face in the folds and the smell he did not mind. His beard brushed against Caio's neck as he hummed and killed the white glow. It tickled and he knew it tickled.

Today was fun. Kidnapping, fighting police, sleeping gas, aphrodisiac gas. It was a day rush of adrenaline and testosterone that they drained satisfyingly together through the evening. The lull and warmth now was like warm apple pie after Christmas dinner; a perfect end to a perfect night.

As for the show, it was just a show to look cool. It had no greater meaning. The day was nice. But,

"It would be better if spent awake more with you." Tri's breath fell on the neck in front of him. His arms reached over to hug the man from over, sticking them together ever closer. He could have said yes. He would have just said yes if asked by anyone else, but this was Caio. There was nothing wrong with lacing more affection honey on his tongue.

"Sleep...?"

The trail followed Tri sticking even even closer, his leg brushing against the Queen's, teasing like on a scratch post.




Tags: BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
Araminta Grant
SCENE:
Post-Arc 3 | June 16th, 2022 [Clad in Golden Dreams]
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Elias, Ezra, Hiachi, Mark, Missy, Passeri, Viss, Tak
Clad In Golden Dreams
Araminta Grant is late. Intentionally so, of course. As her grandfather likes to say, "A Grant is always where he needs to be". Honestly, it just sounds like privilege talking but who was she to argue with the Mayor of New Oasis. Pausing in front of one of the many gilded mirrors that decorated the building's grand foyer, the young woman gazed upon the reflection looking back at her.

She was dressed in the finest silks and adorned with the sparkliest jewelry. Her platinum blonde hair, perfectly slicked back and shiny. Her face powdered, eyes shadowed, and lips, rouged. Araminta never looked more beautiful.

And she hated every single bit of it. Her reflection only served as a glaring reminder that she was here as an emblem. To the citizens of New Oasis, she was an embodiment of the Grants' generosity and altruism. To their enemies, namely the meddlesome Tigers that had stupidly gotten themselves involved with the affairs of the Stewards, she was a power play.

Her eyes flickered to the large double doors that led back out to the street but before the thought of escape could even cross her mind, a large figure stepped in, obstructing her entire view.

"If you're going to trail me like a lost puppy, Felix, you could at least pretend to be my escort. It's embarrassing enough that I have to attend this sad excuse of a party alone." She snapped at her bodyguard. Felix considered his charge with a stoic expression. Wordlessly, he fell into position by Araminta's side and extended an arm for her to take.

Internally, Araminta let out a sigh of relief. Her words carried a lot of bite but they were often used as a mask for any insecurity she felt. Felix was perhaps the only person who knew this better than her.

Bracing herself she pushed open the doors to the main ballroom and saw... well, she wasn't entirely sure what she was looking at. The ballroom was certainly decorated for a party as were the guests present. However, commanding the attention of the entire room at the moment was the King of the Tigers in a face-off against what looked like his entourage. If this was the pop princess' idea of entertainment, Araminta was going to need to reevaluate her initial impressions.

Shadows flickered unnaturally around the dimly lit room and Felix immediately moved into a defensive position, ready to shield her from whatever might come their way. Instinctively, Araminta reached for her hip only to grasp air. Right, she had left her whip at home. Wither could fight, Araminta Grant could only be defended. At least, that was the impression she needed to maintain in public.

Closing her eyes, she extended her senses beyond her body. "Mother callssssssssssss~" The voices of her children echo in her mind, buzzing with excitement. "We will comeeeeeeeeee~"

From every nook and crevice, insects began to emerge and swarm the room.
 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Missy
Clad in Golden Dreams
Tighter, tighter. Ever since she'd departed her table, the coils of Passeri's nerves had been pressed tighter and tighter. Every little thing that'd gone wrong and every not-so-little show of indifference from her King pulled the coil further back. She was ready to snap. To allow the rancor bubbling behind her smile spill out, the ballroom of New Oasis's rich and rotted be damned.

So, all-in-all, the random assassination attempt may have been a blessing in disguise. Her tension was released, and she sprung into action.

A wordless gout of energy poured out from her, tinging the dim air pink. Her eyes darted between Markus and the tattooed assailant. It wasn't a face she recognized, but it was a suit that she did. Her smile dropped like a stone, and her frustration boiled over into spite.

He'd bought assassins into her ball?

And tucked under his own coat, no less.

It was almost tempting to just let things be and allow his 'bodyguard' drive a stake through the back of his head. But she didn't. She couldn't. A ring of pink congealed around the Tiger King's chest, and then sharply pulled him away from the assassin's grasp.

With the rumblings of conspiracy that had been reverberating throughout the Tigers' shadowed corridors, this was something she'd already accounted for.

Her priorities were already set.

"Snap out of it!" First; get Weiss out of whatever mess he'd gotten himself into.

Passeri's eyes locked with Shrike's, and then she banished the woman behind a wall of pink. All around the ballroom her barriers flickered to life and swung into place. Whatever the assassins had brought to the table, or rather, whatever Markus had put in their hands, she needed to cut off as much of it as she could. Sight lines were obscured by screens of blazing light, and their angles of assault narrowed.

That was second; set the field.

Passeri's hand went to her phone and her fingers erupted into a furious dial. Deeper in the building the White Wolf's phone buzzed, but only for a moment. Passeri brought her phone to her just as swiftly.

"Dagger! Get Hyun and get out here!" She barked, quick and clear, and then tossed the phone aside. She'd been through enough with the woman to trust that was enough.

And now, third; start cleaning up the mess.

"How many did you bring?" Passeri peddled away from the table, and to Markus's side. Between her constructs, the black-suited shadows swam about the dark. However many it was exactly, as it stood the odds were not in their favor. Hiachi, Elias, Vissarion and Missy were not combatants, and Knight had hardly come here tonight with his blade in hand. Until backup arrived Markus was the only person here she could count on, as loathe as she was to think it.

"Sorry, you two." She addressed Hiachi and Elias as if they hadn't just been in the middle of trying to soothe the girl's panic attack. "I'm gonna have to ask for your help. Elias, watch our backs. Hiachi, keep a lookout on everything else."

The night she and Hiachi had spent at Hotel Gaul recalled itself, but Passeri pushed the thought back. This was not the same as knocking out some coked-up upstart. She knew Markus to be many things, but cheap was not one of them. Whatever Hiachi's bag of tricks entailed, Passeri doubted that trading blows with trained killers was one of them.

"Help's coming. We need to hold out until then."

 
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Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
Littleleaf Zone, East District
TIME:
Janurary 29th, 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Llyod ( Jexon Whells Jexon Whells )
Rising Butterflies

He was pretty sure he understood a spar was generally wailing on each other but for a quick moment he could feel himself question his understanding of the english language when Llyod started stripping. He wasn’t necessarily against a public show but he was ninety-nine percent sure his mentor would have never sent him into one unprepared. It became clearer that things weren’t taking a strange turn to a more fun physical activity when the clothes and items went into the nearby suitcase.

“Huh, so you’re a real by-the-books type then.”

He guessed that the other had a less flashy potential if he was concerned with piercings of all things. Still he obliged the other unclipping his piercings and shifting them into his zippable cargo pockets. At least the phone made sense, if he had to replace another one this year he’d be pissed. He tossed his phone, wallet and keys into the suitcase as he approached the other. Still he didn’t have much info, and judging by the other’s demeanor he either had it all or none.

“I’d be the one I suppose. They call me Song in the dragons, on account of my Potential. I sing you get hurt. At least that’s what’s been proven before.”

He shrugged off his jacket figuring that the loose article might be a hindrance considering this dude seemed to be taking all the precautions to be a very hand-to-hand combat. Unless he was reading this completely wrong and the dude had some crazy firepower hidden.

“Listen, I’m not one to jump right into it so relax a bit buttercup. Tell me a bit about yourself. Like if I should toss this lovely sweatshirt of mine if you get some wicked flames or how’d you wind up ready to fight a stranger on a bridge.”

 
CAIO SANTANA COELHO
LOCATION:
Copper's Bar, North District
TIME:
2019, Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius ( WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten ), Caio
TEST DRIVE

“All I do is deal drugs, I've never needed to hurt anyone."

Fuck.

He felt the anger licking at the back of his being falter for a moment. He was nothing like Brandy but for a moment he’d seen her image in him. Just some kid with a potential that did nothing for them being forced into the worst position of their life. His frown deepened as he pushed off the wall stopping his crowding of the other.

“Shut up.”

His annoyance was back when he remembered every moment his elder brother held back the pain from interfering to be the better person. Nah, this dude wasn’t her. He couldn’t be getting a weak spot when he was the queen. Anyone he cared for would be nothing more than a target. The best thing he could do for anyone was get what he need out of them and toss ‘em to the side hoping Yuudai didn’t catch wind.

“You’re pathetic. If you can’t use it cause it hurts you then you figure out how to fucking fix it. Ain’t that what serps do? We play god and we do it well.”

 
Artemis Mac Naught
SCENE MUSIC:
TIME:
Post-Arc 2 | March 12th, 2022
LOCATION:
Casino, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Pei ( thebigfella thebigfella )
Twister Trickster

Listen there was nothing wrong with a skilled gambler, and even less so with a high roller but when the two interacted it made her life hard. This dude was just winning too much, whats worse is she hadn’t caught him in a cheat yet. Ordinarily she’d say that it wasn’t her problem and let the dealer shell out whatever they were losing but higher ups said this man needed to fall and he needed to fall hard.

What a pain.

Either was she strolled up to the cards table with the fakest grin on her face strutting like she knew exactly how fine she was in her dealer’s uniform. Which honestly wouldn’t be a lot in her books but it wasn’t like that tended to matter judging by the eyes on her as she stomped her heels making sure the powerful sounding clack clack could be heard against the Casino floor.

“Hello! Juliet’s come to be your gal for the night! Heard we had a skilled player ranking up quite the number of wins tonight. The house has decided to upgrade your experience free of charge!”

She gave a two tap to the poor sucker’s, who’d been looking incompitent the whole night, shoulder. He stood up and she slid right in the place of him facing this supposed unbeatable opponent. Wow he certainly had a style to him that’s for sure.

“Michaelagelo, be a dear and grab all the patrons on this table a shrink of their choice on the house. There’s been quite an audience building up around this one.”

Her fellow tiger was off collecting orders and making her odds a little easier when they’d try to pump this fucker with as much booze as they could legally get away with and then some. She pushed her hair behind her ear as she leaned forwards over the table extending a hand for a handshake with the patron.

“You’ve been making a big splash! Is this you’re first time here sir? Oh pardon my manners I didn’t catch your name.”

 
celestine renee cadieux
SCENE:
spotting the wingless
LOCATION:
east district
TIME:
nighttime, post-arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
jozef, nona-me, keith, celestine
spotting the wingless
Celestine had managed to slam into the woman with the axe, hoping it might buy Flea even a second to get further away from this, but that wouldn't be enough. Two more Dragons appeared. One to stop Flea, the other to attack her.

Celeste felt the sting of a blade across her torso and went to block the second blow when she felt a sharp tug on her braid, swinging her away from the dragon and slamming her into the ground. She was barely able to stop her head from striking the concrete.

Why did that woman pull her away from the other dragon's blade? Celeste didn't understand but had no time to think about that now; She just lost precious moments she could have spent helping Flea.

Out of the corner of her eye, she also spotted Jozef, watching as the red one singled him out. Celestine's face paled and her eyes widened as panic immediately took hold. Every single part of her screamed to go help Jozef, but she couldn't just abandon Flea. That would be cruel.

Celestine rushed toward her fellow serpent, completely ignoring the other one that had already sliced her, in an attempt to grab and pull Flea from the dragon's grasp, moving her own body at the same time in an attempt to shield her from the axe swinging directly at her. Celeste just hoped she had been fast enough.


WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten gxxberkit gxxberkit Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
jericho s. madden
SCENE:
a daughter's eulogy
LOCATION:
south district
TIME:
2021 | post hurricane
PARTICIPANTS:
red, jericho
a daughter's eulogy
Jericho wasn't surprised when she nudged the glass away, simply smiling and nodding, “Give me a sec."

Placing the glass of water on the coffee table, he went back to the kitchen and returned a moment later with another glass- this one empty. Jericho sat in the same place as before and reached behind for the water.

“I don't wanna give you somethin' I drank out of," Jericho explained as he held the two glasses in his hands, making sure they were visible to her, “So ya know I'm not cheating or nothin'."

Carefully, Jericho poured some of the water from her glass into his. He swirled the water in his glass around a bit so she knew he wasn't bluffing and then poured the water into his mouth. swallowing. Rico made sure not to turn away from her, he wanted her to know that it really was fine.

“Look, I ain't expecting you to trust me, but I want to help," Setting his now empty glass down on the coffee table, he lifted the one with the straw to her a second time, “You gotta drink somethin', kid."

miki miki
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
TIME:
Daytime, Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Kiki's Eatery, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hitoshi, Kaede, Ashley, Hector, Gideon
Get(ting) Help
Charlie's weapon found its way through Ashley's nearly non-existant defenses, his blow successfully landing against his friend's upper ribcage, a satisfying shockwave revereberating down his weapon and into his hands. Charlie was already expecting this to happen, this was far from his first time facing his friendly rival in combat, and knew well of the man's ability to bring forth power from the damage he's taken. Ashley was a certified tough son of a gun, which always made him an extremely fun opponent in the rookie's eyes, as he needed worry not much about his safety.

Charlie's body relaxed somewhat after hearing Ashley's request, a friendly smile on the boy as he contemplated. "Hmmm, making things even, you say? Alright then" The rookie lifted his left arm, his fingers suddenly wrapping around his friend's baton, which was used to rudely point at him. Despite nothing changing visually about the item, Ashley must most definitely noticed how the weapon had now increased multiple times in weight. "Can't have you breaking that, you know?" He released his grip on his weapon, a playful grin on Charlie's face which accentuated his extremely feminine features. Eager to make his friend happy, Charlie agreed to 'kick it up a notch' as he had demanded, quite literally in fact. He suddenly shifted the weight of his core, gyrating his hip while maintaining balance on one foot and rotating in place, arms extended outwards while holding onto his staff, making subtle movements to subconciously help with his balance.

From the motion, Charlie thrusted his leg forward, delivering a reverse kick at Ashley's stomach. The brutal force of the blow sending the rowdy dog flying to the opposite direction, the wall behind him abruply stopping his momentum. Building termbled and echoes from the impact. Little specks of eroded ceiling giving in from the vibration, coating some of the matted floor with dust.

Despite the visual flair, Ashley would have noticed that the attack, while more powerful than the part's first strike, was still a far cry from either of the two's full power. "Sorry Ash! But we can't just destroy Aniki's dojo, you know?! You'll have to settle with that for now" The rookie twirled his staff in his hands rapidly before stopping at a battle stance. He was confident that his opponent was now ready to strike back, having been served a decent dosage of new power.


joshuadim joshuadim WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 
HIDE ISHIDA
SCENE:
Open Your Eyes
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 12, 2022 | 5:25 pm
LOCATION:
South District, Street
PARTICIPANTS:
Hide, Hector
OPEN YOUR EYES
Hide was minding his own business. Truly, he was for once! The Checkered haired man was strolling the streets, earphones plugged in as he listened to his ear roaring music which no doubt could be heard by those near him. When all of a sudden, he heard a crash, then trash falling everywhere. He would normally make a joke to himself comparing all the others to those pieces of trash, until he saw the look on Hector's face. Hector? What was he doing here? Hide would have thought the bastard would be too busy brooding in his little hole after what happened. Not that it was any of his business anyhow.

The due eyed man simply raised his brow as he watched the Queen of the Phoenixes' violent actions. Those around them springing into action to step away out of the lion's line of sight. Their instinct of fight or flight clearly kicking in at the sight of the dangerous one eyed man.


HIde apparently, had no such instinct.


He huffed, turning his body to face Hector's. His hands reached to take out his earphones, crossing his arms impudently. "The hell? Figured you wouldn't show your face for the next few decades, and now you're fucking coming out to have a stupid chat with me?"


 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
[Late-Night Chase]
TIME:
Nighttime, Post Arc 1
LOCATION:
Aksher Co. Offices, Sound District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Minato
Late-Night Chase
The tightly-gripping fingers from Charlie's weapon-wielding hand loosened, a puzzled expression on him as he listened to the mysterious man, claiming to possess some sort of revelation he was not aware of. The rookie responded with an aggressive frown, incredibly skeptic of the inflitrator's insinuations. "You might as well tell me that fairies are real while you're at it"

Charlie wasn't a genius, rarely ever the smartest guy in the room. But to call him a fool would be a considerable stretch as well. As if a man who was so eager to gravely injure people like that was really the one free of sin here. Charlie raised his weapon, a split second away from letting the pipe perform its improvised purpose.

But a strike never came to be, the phoenix's arm staying in place, a light shaking from the limb showing a fleeting moment of uncertainty. It was an easy thing to forget...But Charlie was not exactly working for a group of altruists. No, he was not THAT blind. A tinge of doubt and curiosity made its way into his mind, like a worm carving its way though soft soil.

Opting for a temporary change of plans, Charlie opted for forcing the intruder to turn around, the Phoenix hastily grabbing a hold of his arms, pulling them up behind his back. He inserted his pipe in the small gap between the man's lumbar and his wrists, acting as a wedge between them. Applyng great force, the boy then bent the weapon, the steel creaking as it was forced to morph and warp in unintended ways. By the end, the previous piece of still had now turned into a hard wrapping around the intruder's wrists.

"Spit it out, already, and I'm warning you, I'll know if you're lying" Ironically, that was a blatant lie of its own, but hopefully the man might buy it.

Charlie just hoped he hadn't made the wrong choice by not opting for the classic phoenix method from the get-go.



Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
All I Want for Christmas is Your Money
LOCATION:
Goldshire Streets, West District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 | December 15th 2020
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Eric
All I Want for Christmas is Your Money

"Hmmm..." dead, emotionless eyes stared imposingly at the dealer girl in front of Eric, all while he supported his torso with both of his hands placed atop the game table. To someone unfamiliar with Eric's usual quirks when it became to his general disposition and behavior, this prolonged, deadpan staring could come off as somewhat intimidating.

"Alright, young lady, I'll bite" He declared, letting his body lower, his rear landing atop one of the makeshift seats around the game zone.

Not even for a second did he believe this girl had a single good intention with this little scheme of hers. He needed to keep his eyes peeled in order to ensure whatever cheating she might end up performing, he would be able to tell. Her goal as probably to make money, whereas Eric's goal was to dismantle this whole operation, one detected mistake at a time.

"Sure, that amount sounds goo-"

He had that kind of money...right?

His eyes shifted to the plastic bags laying on the floor between his legs. Those gunpla were not cheap at all, and he DID end up splurging a bit recklessly.

He fought to gather recollections of the near past, of his transactions with the cashier and the money being traded. After all, there was no way he was going to just casually check his wallet in an extremely shady alley like this one. Through his recollections, he managed to remember at least seven amestriyen safely stored within his pockets.

"Yeah, its good...Let's see what that sister of yours has teached you"

BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
JAVI ONEIRO SILVA
SCENE:
Write Under Their Noses
TIME:
March 17th, 2021 || Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Rothan And Rothan Pawn Shop, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Gift, Javi
WRITE UNDER THEIR NOSES
“Expensive kind,” Javi offered helpfully before he'd had a chance to ask himself if the question might have been rhetorical. It had probably been rhetorical. He hoped he hadn't thrown off Gift's flow, in case he had a whole spiel prepared. He hoped he wasn’t coming across as nervous, either. That definitely wasn't a good look. Was he coming across as nervous? Was he nervous? He shrugged. Playin' it cool. That was the name of the game—wasn't it? His eyes kept flicking up and down the sidewalk, catching random glimpses of the pedestrians passing him by but never holding them for long. His leg kept tapping the toe of his left boot on the sidewalk pavement. His hands tucked themselves away deep in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

He figured, nerves were natural, right? This was technically his first real "mission", after all. Thinking about it like that made his brain concoct images of himself and his fellow Dragon under cover with fake aliases at a black-tie cocktail party investigating some gnarly-looking Ruthenian oligarch. Hot sportscars. Over-the-top gadgets. Real spy shit. This was... Different? But not worse? In those movies, lots of people ended up getting shot. But it was still just a movie.

Javi nodded along enthusiastically as Gift explained the sitch, eyes following the trajectory of his fellow Dragon's direction—and the plan so far...—up to the second story. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. Makes sense, for sure.” He agreed readily, mostly because he had no basis to doubt the other man's expertise in this area... At least relative to his own. He wanted it on the record that he was all for following the leader and all that chain-of-command, military-type stuff that the Dragons had going on. Still, he had questions.

He had a lot of questions, actually. First one: was this.... Technically... Illegal? It was a dumb question so he kept it to himself. Gangs did illegal stuff all the time, and he was... In a gang, now... So...

Javi sympathetically adjusted the strap of his own satchel along his torso's diagonal, even though it wasn't bothering him or anything (delicately, so as not to disturb the entities slumbering within). He had been too busy squinting up at the aforementioned windows to notice his mentor's dubious side-eye. Besides, since setting off Javi had probably already stolen more than his fair share of sidelong glances at the man. What was in that satchel, anyway? And was his name really Gift?

“Ha-ha, heard. Lound n' clear.” Was it embarrassing that he was a little relieved that Gift wasn't under the impression that he was some master cat burglar? Maybe a little, but at least that kept expectations mercifully low. “Stay outta sight, don't get caught. Got it.” He smiled agreeably, relieved that Gift at least didn't seem like a hardened gangster type. He didn't know if he could handle that kind of vibe right out the gate...

Javi gazed at Gift expectantly. What was next?

 
Hiachi & Jackson
Collab Post
SCENE:
Double Displacement
LOCATION:
Wyvern High School
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson | Rikunori (NPC)
Double Displacement

February 21, 2018​


Rikunori strolled through the parking lot in no particular rush. In fact, part of him walked slowly on purpose. He proudly walked out the front doors of Wyvern High School while swirling his keys around his finger. Rikunori loved his car—it was his pride and joy, equated to how an equestrian racer would cherish their prized steed. He washed it every weekend, he bought one of those windshield sunshades to protect the leather from UV fade, and he refused to let people consume any food or beverages in his car—even water.

He was fiercely protective of the automobile, and for good reason. It had been an expensive car for a kid living in New Oasis’ Eastern District. It had taken him six years worth of salary plus all of the money his grandparents had ever given him to afford it. His parents weren’t happy with the financial decision, but he had bargained for it with his own money and took care of all the maintenance himself. So they didn’t have much to say other than he should have saved that money for college, but Rikunori was planning on going to the state university anyways. With enough of a merit scholarship, he’d be fine.

He approached the lightning blue car, setting his gaze on it to show everyone that the fancy car was in fact his. Now, all that was ahead of him was a smooth and relaxing drive home. At least, that’s how Rikunori saw it before throwing his backpack in the backseat and hopping into the car.

“AH!”

“Woah—” He jumped, startled by the cry of what sounded like his little sister. He leaned out the car door, looking for where the sound had come from. It had sounded like it came from underneath him—but that was ridiculous, right?

Ruikunori looked underneath his car, and sure enough, he saw Hiachi crouched underneath it like a little rodent. “What the hell are you doing down there!?”

“Sorry,” Hiachi quickly apologized. She looked up at him, her eyes boring into his soul. She did that a lot, but for some reason, this time it felt different. “Uhm. I’m just hanging out.”

“Like hell you are. What do you want?”

“...Can I drive home with you?”

Rikunori let out an excessive groan. Siblings. As the middle child of the Ito family, he was subjected to some of the most annoying treatment. Not quite an older sibling, not quite a younger sibling, so both groups were equally as annoying to him. As much as he didn’t want to have to drive with Hiachi in the car, he brushed it off. Maybe she was in a mood, maybe she was having a bad day, maybe she was just acting weird—none of his business. “Whatever—just be careful coming up. If you scratch the door you’re paying for a new one.”

Hiachi swiftly came out from underneath the car and sat in the passenger’s seat before slamming the door shut. In the light, Rikunori could see her face better. Paler than he remembered her to be, and the bags underneath her eyes heavier. She moved her backpack to her lap and leaned down—to the degree that she couldn’t be seen through the window.

“Stop slouching like that. You’re gonna become a hunchback,” He said, starting to drive out of his parking spot.

Hiachi listened, but not in the way that Rikunori would have liked. She leaned the car seat back, all the way until she was horizontal and the seatbelt was doing absolutely nothing to keep her secure.

“That’s smart. What’s gonna happen to you if we get in an accident? You’re gonna go flying.”

“You’re not gonna crash.”

“Oh yeah? What if I did this—!”

Rikunori slammed the brakes of the car. Just as he had promised, Hiachi jerked forward and slammed her knees into the dashboard. He let out a snicker—messing with his younger sisters was just one of the things that put a smile on his face.

But Hiachi didn’t see it that way. Not in the slightest; her neutral expression contorted to one of anger, of hatred. She jerked her seat back up and punched him in the shoulder, hard.

“Can you please STOP!? And leave me fucking ALONE for ONCE in your life!?”

She huffed, tears in her voice, before bringing her shirt over her face and covering it.

And Rikunori took pause. Hiachi didn’t shout, and Hiachi didn’t hit people. Especially not him. Hiachi only raised her voice when it came to Kenki, who teased her relentlessly. And their wrestling was more of an activity than actual violence.

That pause lasted from the second she had punched him all the way until they got home. Hiachi was still mad. The second he put the car in park, she got out and slammed the car door so hard that the echo reverberated through the house.

Because Rikunori’s luck was just that horrible, he could see his mother approaching the door as Hiachi stormed inside. Mareri had probably needed to go home early that day. God damn it—

Upon watching her daughter brush past her, Mrs. Ito put her hands on her hips and glared at Rikunori.

“Rikunori Ito, if you don’t stop messing with your sister, I’m sending that flashy car to the junkyard myself,” She shouted, clear and entirely serious, before turning around and massaging the bridge of her nose. “And you can use that money to pay for my funeral fees, since you want to send me to an early grave.”

Rikunori rolled his eyes at that. His mother was as overdramatic as ever. He brushed that off too.

However, the thing he wanted to brush off the most wouldn’t leave his mind. As he sat down to do his homework, his mind was carried off to another place.

What happened to her?

Something was off. And Rikunori was a logical man, and his mind was telling him that whatever petty teenage drama she was dealing with wasn’t worth his time. Maybe she had an argument with Jang-Mi. Maybe she got her heart broken by some random boy. Maybe she got a C on a test she studied really hard for. None of his business.

But then again, Rikunori knew none of that was true. If he had really paid attention, he would have noticed the decline ever since Hiachi started high school. Something was wrong, and he knew it in his gut.

By the time it turned night, the predicament refused to leave his mind. By then it was time for him to do his chores, so he thought that would be a good idle task to distract himself with.

He walked to the end of the hall where the upstairs trash can was. He lifted the bag out of the container and went to tie it, but the weight of the bag stopped him.

Why is this so damn heavy?

The only things that went in there were random pieces of paper that were discarded as the family members sorted things and did their work. There was no logical reason for it to be a hassle for him to pick up. It felt like someone had put a five-pound dumbbell at the bottom.

Rikunori tried to brush it off. He walked out the side door of his house and went to throw it in the trash can. The spotlight of a guard light highlighted some thick paper-shaped objects within the bag. A whole pile of them.

Rikunori shut his eyes. He knew that it was likely Hiachi’s—Mareri had a bedroom downstairs, and their parents rarely threw anything out. And digging through his sister’s trash was invasive. It wasn’t right. And yet he huffed as he opened the trash back up and tried to peer at it through the minimal light.

At first, he just saw valentines. He wanted to laugh. He had been so worried, and for what? A bunch of discarded sappy poems.

But that was too much of a joke. As cruel as it would have been to say it to her face, he would never believe that she got this many genuine valentines. He knew his sister. She hardly talked to anyone.

He picked up one and opened it. It was one of those stupid and cheap ones, with malformed english and a cute looking bear cartoon. It had been manufactured to say, ‘wishing to spend this valentine’s with you!”. If that was it, Rikunori would have carried on.

A black permanent marker had scribbled all over it. The cute little bear had a noose scribbled around its neck and its eyes crossed out. The words had been blocked out to spell something different:

Wishing this was you.

That was cheap, and gross, and ridiculous and Rikunori started digging some more. Most of these cards said the same thing. Telling her that she was a freak, that she should kill herself. It seemed almost comical, but it wasn’t as funny to think about when he thought about his sister having to look at them. He wasn’t in her head, he had no way of knowing if she believed it, but what if she believed them?

Rikunori had seen enough. He tightened a knot around the trash bag. He dropped it in the trash can and went back inside without a word.

“Rikunori, dinner is ready!”

He ignored his mother and instead went into his room. He sat down on his bed and started going down his call list. As co-captain of the debate team, he knew enough freshmen to figure out what was happening. At least one of them would be desperate enough to give him the information he needed.

Bringgg. Bringgg. Bringgg.


February 22, 2018​


The halls of Wyvern High School, of which were normally bustling but never overtly loud, had been disrupted by a loud exclamation. A crowd of students had dispersed in a circle, all surrounding two figures. It was a sight to behold, indeed—a dark-haired senior yelling at a blond punk-looking freshman.

“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?”

He had no real idea why this fuck was yelling at him. That said he was already having a shit enough day so it really didn’t matter much to him the reason he wanted to come up with. He had no intention of making this get physical but he wasn’t above it if fists went flying.

“The hell’s my problem? You’re the one who came up to me you brain dead fuck. So whats it to ya?”

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” Rikunori spat, pointing his finger in Jackson’s face. “If you mess with someone, mess with someone your own goddamn size! The fuck do you want with my sister!?”

Oh one of those huh? He would have laughed in the idiot’s face if he couldn’t find some respect in it. He understood what it meant to get righteously angry for family. That said, it still didn’t help him figure out what the dude was shouting about.

“Listen, I’ll let you off with a single fucking slide for the venom since it’s for your sister’s sake. But if you’re gonna be throwing around accusations you might as well tell me who the fuck your sister even is cause I haven’t fucking picked on kids. I don’t do that shit.

“Don’t patronize me, you motherfucker!” Rikunori wanted to push him really, really bad but he doubted he stood a chance if the rumors were even half true. So he balled his fist and jerked his head to the right as he began to advance forward towards him. “Bet you don’t even remember her name. You fucking kid. Hiachi Ito—ring any bells in your hollow skull?”


Hiachi…Hiachi… Hibachi? No, that was a food, right? The name was drawing some memory but he couldn’t quite put the name to a face. Wait, Mousey.

HER? The fuck is she saying about me? She ain’t a fucking saint herself!”

“The FUCK are you talking about!? What are you, the pope!? I don’t care if she’s a saint, I wanna know why you feel the need to make her life harder!”

“I DON’T MAKE HER LIFE HARDER! SHE DOES THAT HERSELF. For fucks sake, if mousey’s going around saying I’m causing her problems, she needs to take a goddamn look in the mirror.”

“Fuckin’ punk. I know you’re lying. Or maybe you’re too STUPID to realize that cornering and verbally berating someone can make their life WORSE.”

The clock was inching towards the first class, and a lot of people were being held up by the crowd. It was moments like these that felt like they could be explained to behavior counseling—especially if there was no physical violence.

Her presence and arms were strong, parting the way to the two boys in the crowd with ease. Or, perhaps, it was her scorpion parts. She didn’t hide them, instead letting them twitch with annoyance out in the open. She kept the stinger closer to the ceiling, though. If she got anyone hurt again, she would be expelled.

Most people could recognize her by her tail, but in the event that the rumors hadn’t circled far enough, her annoyed grimace would have been enough. Thy walked up to the two of them and firmly held them apart. She turned to Rikunori, shouting a bit to overcome the chatter: “Cool it, man. It’s not worth it.”

What was this a damn circus? First they were all drawing attention of every kid not in class now they were thinking they could just bail off when they said their piece? It filled him with irritation more than anything else. Sure he’d been hard on mousey but she was the reason they were both ostracized.

“While you’re at it tell mousey to stop having others fight all her battles. Its no wonder she can’t even work her mouth right.”

Poor, poor choice of words. The ring of people in earshot of Jackson fell silent before letting out a unified ooooh. Both Thy and Rikunori froze, a thin layer of shock covering their rage.

When Rikunori lunged at Jackson, Thy grabbed his wrist and slapped his hand. It might have looked like she was preventing a fight before she looked at Jackson herself, and ignored her probation clauses to punch him square in the face.

The punch to the face was enough to knock him off balance for a moment as he worked to plant his feet. Without thinking twice or even noticing his poor wording was the trigger to the punch he lunged forwards aiming his fist to the side of Thy’s face.

“THE FUCK! FINE YOU WANT A FIGHT YOU’LL DAMN WELL GET IT.”

He was fast and Thy wasn’t expecting it, but her reflexes let her stop at a short distance after being punched back.

Thy couldn’t bring herself to care about the rules anymore. She hated his attitude. She took her tail and wrapped around his leg, yanking him to the ground. She didn’t even let him get up before pinning him to the ground with her tail and one shoe, and hammering her elbow into his throat.

Aiming for the throat? What did she know his power somehow or was that just a lucky guess? He started to claw at her elbow with his hands taking the opportunity to kick her off with a solid knee to the gut.

“BITCH.”

He stood back up spitting in her direction before going for a strike with the back of his forearm for her side.

She took a hard hit to the stomach, and that was long enough for her to stagger. But it was lucky that he was aiming for her sides, because that’s where her scorpion arms were. As quick as instinct, the arms stabbed at his arm.

“YOU’RE A BITCH!”

She tackled him again, aiming for the lockers this time. The few people in the way could dodge, and Thy had to use all of the external force she could get.

“FUCK—”

Pain waved over him as his arm was caught by the fuckers extra appendages. On instinct he ripped his arm back tearing the flesh and leaving him bleeded from the arm. It sucked but he’d deal, definitely would need that checked out though. He let himself be tackled to the lockers as it helped to clear some of the circle which kept themselves around like vultures.

He could go for singing but if even some of them were nps that was going to cause a few hospitalizations with how close they were. Instead he turned his head and bite deeply into her arm aiming to get her off her game so he could go in for another few swings.

Thy didn’t draw her arm back, but she tightened her veins. Biting her was low. And they called her an animal. She yanked her arm back down and tried to punch him in the teeth, letting her bitten arm guide her aim.

The punch to the face was not unexpected, though damn was her strength unexpected. He let go with a shout stumbling backwards for the moment. He didn’t let it last long before he dived to the floor aiming to knock her over by grabbing her by the legs. Didn’t matter if it was technically dirty fighting. A win was a win. Besides they should all expect scrappy fighting from a northern brat.

Thy collided with the ground. She landed on her side and clutched her feelers, which were twitching from the impact. She seethed. For as much pride she took in a fair fight, she was more unwilling to go down quietly.

It was about to end. She could hear the sprinting of the vice principal on the linoleum, the only HP adult who could break up the fight. The last thing she could do before they were torn apart was dig the heel of her boot into his face.

Shit Shit Shit! They called in the backup. He knew the way this went. Somehow all of this would be his fault. So if that’s what was gonna happen then he might as well go all in. He felt the pain from the girl digging her boot into his face and did his best to claw up any part of her he could get his hands on. At the very least they weren’t gonna be able to get him on using his potential carelessly but he wanted to fuck her up to where she’d feel the bite for days.

This fucking BRAT——!

With the last word in, the stocky man shoved his way through the crowd. “Break it up!” He grabbed Jackson from under his shoulders and locked him behind a tight grasp. The security officer tried his best to hold Thy back as well, avoiding her stinger and instead opting to stand between her and Jackson.

“Get back to class!” he shouted at the bystanders, who dispersed at his demand. Rikunori was the only one still there, stunned into stasis after being knocked to the ground.

The vice president sternly turned to Jackson and Thy. “My office. Now.”

Could he still pull off playing innocent? Probably not but what the hell, he ought to try anyway. He released his hold on Thy and pushed off the ground. He gave the principal a nod before falling in line. He’d have another chance to get back and the three mouskateers where it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. For now he needed to make sure they weren’t inclined to ask for a guardian of his.

“Understood, sir.”




 
Lloyd Sorvocah
TIME:
2021: January 29th
SCENE:
Scene: Rising Butterflies
LOCATION:
Littleleaf Zone, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson Reese Alessi BriiAngelic BriiAngelic , Lloyd Sorvocah
Rising Butterflies
Once everything is inside the suitcase that needs be in there, Lloyd locks it and uses the bicycle chain to chain it to the side of the bridge so no one try to snatch it while they are sparring without noticing it, putting they key in his own pocket. "My apologies. I tend to get very task oriented and forget the formalities. My name is Lloyd and that is what I go by since I don't really have any other name for myself within the Dragons," he says with a calm tone of voice. Then he begins stretching while continuing conversation, "As for taking off the tops and piercings, well, it's a sparring match. Clothes could get destroyed, which would be a waste, and piercings are an obvious weakpoint and a reasonably strong HP could tear it from your body if they got a hold of it."

Lloyd speaks very casually about the reasons and risks involved, seemingly not just in sparring, but in combat in general. "I also did not expect that you would give away what your Potential is. It takes away the element of surprise. Granted, I don't know exactly how it works - you never know with Potentials - but it's enough for me to plan ahead." Not at any point does Lloyd stop stretching during the conversation, making sure his whole body is ready for this encounter.

"Of course I will be fair since it is a sparring match. My Potential is named 'Juggernaut', though some call it 'Dragon Skin'." Lloyd is then just about done stretching and he takes a few paces back. Then, in a matter of seconds, dragon-like scales grow all over his body, his face not excluded. Then he takes a stance that quickly looks familiar to that of boxers. "Now then, are there any more questions or comments before we start? Or are you ready to test our skills on each other?"
 
Last edited:
Little Red
scene:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
location:
The Roost, South District
date:
June 20, 2022
participants:
Pei, Helva, Charlie, Eleanore
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
Red ceased her banging when an echo of unison reached her through the walls.

“He was MY fucking problem! You just gutted the brat!”

She stopped banging—her arm fell limply at her side as she tried to decipher what was just said. Red froze as to not make a peep, trying to hear all the Eleanores better.

”Y… your problem?”

What the hell could that possibly mean? If Eleanore was hunting him herself, then she wouldn’t have been upset. So that only meant he was her problem in a different way.

The dread drained the blood on Red’s forehead, pale and purple, as realization set in. There was a single explanation. One that meant she had crossed Eleanore in an impossibly cruel way.








“…That was your SON!?







 

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