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

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Lloyd Sorvocah
TIME:
2021, January 29th
SCENE:
Rising Butterflies
LOCATION:
Littleleaf Zone, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson Reese Alessi BriiAngelic BriiAngelic , Lloyd Sorvocah
Rising Butterflies
An arm got flung over his shoulder, which was an odd thing to him since he was never really part of any groups who did that sort of thing. That being said, Lloyd doesn't mind it really. In fact, despite doing his best to be a part of the Azure Dragons, Jackson may just be the first who actually brings a sense of comradery, even for a moment. Lloyd chuckles a little at Jackson's notion of allowing him to witness him really let loose. "You know what, Jackson," he says with a slight smile, "Once I have another lead to some Serps trying to smuggle their drugs into our district, I'll be sure to hit you up. I think together we could make short work of them really quick."

Lloyd kneels down to close his suitcase once Jackson has retrieved all his belongings. "To be quite honest, I haven't really encountered anything or anyone so far that could really get through my armour, but you did. It was interesting to experience my armour fail me, but it proved my stance on not relying on it too much, and that I am definitely not invulnerable." He then stands back up, suitcase in hand, and nudges his head in the direction to the Dragon HQ as a signal they can start walking. Of course, Lloyd holds his pace. He does not know how fast Jackson can walk after all this.

"I have already been thinking about implementations on your Potential aswell. As it is currently, it is excellent for crowd-control. Disruptive and debilitating, even for individuals who may be armoured, such as myself. But I am wondering if your current use of it is actually your highest limit, and if perhaps different ways of singing may affect how it works; think like opera singing, or metal." Even after the match, Lloyd still seems to retain some of that business-like attitude, though he seems to be more relaxed about it and less formal than before the match. It can be taken as a good sign, since he is willing to share his thoughts with Jackson this way. However, whether or not it is received as a good thing, and not as some guy talking his ears off, is still up in the air.
 
MIRZA KARTAL
SCENE:
The Welcome Wagon
LOCATION:
Dragon HQ, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
gonna morb
THE WELCOME WAGON
“It’s no problem at all, Ruriko. I wanted to make sure all our guests would be well fed- Rather, my mother did.” Mirza watched Ruriko struggle to eat with the constant entrances. “Oh, take more than that if you want.” He was content to let the Rookies make a natural impression without his prompting, and so he watched and made mental notes about each arrival. Definitely a group in need of more discipline, but he could let them off today. He’d just have to make sure that they grew into perfect Veterans, and not like some people.

Speak of the devil.

Most of the people he’d slept with with he didn’t keep in mind. He remembered some people who would forever be dear to his heart, he’d remember the regulars at ENP and their preferences, and of course, he remembered Cleo Silva. The man who’d constantly worry him with his craziness, and the poster child of what not to do as a Dragon veteran. He didn’t know Ruriko had invited him, but perhaps that was his exact role. Just hopefully he wouldn’t become a role model instead.

“Silva. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Mirza glanced at the source of the mewling.

“Why did you bring cats?”

He resisted the urge to take one and start cuddling. Maybe he’d ask Silva about the circumstances after everyone had left. He couldn’t really be upset at the intrusion anyway, given who was with him. He didn’t know Ruriko had invited Kanna either. Was this little meetup more important than he had realised?

“Welcome, welcome.”

The leader’s scrutiny didn’t faze Mirza at all.

“It’s a great opportunity, isn’t it? For everyone to get to know-”

The clinking of plates alerted Mirza to look back at his snack table, where Pasha was setting himself up when it was already tight for space.

“Excuse me…” Surely the blood was a contamination risk, but he couldn’t make a scene. “Help yourself, all homemade. Let me grab some wet wipes for the table, some sanitizer.”

Mirza slinked to the door, holding up a finger to Ruriko to indicate he’d only be a minute, but trouble seemed to be brewing already. And of course, Pavel was involved. He went up to the group like he was only entering a casual conversation, not an argument.

“Hey, everyone. There’s no need to yell, okay? Let’s remember why we’re here, please. I don’t know if I caught all your names?” Ignoring Pav, he smiled at the Rookies present, steering away from whatever was about to start.

 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
I Would Like to See Your Permit
TIME:
Nighttime, December 2021, Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Lower Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lorette, Eric
I WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOUR PERMIT
From beyond the courtain of dust, the familiar sound of Eric's bolts of light finding their mark echoed through. When someone's used their ability for constant battle as long as he had, it was easy to pick apart just what kind of sound the projectiles made depending on the target's material, surface or density, the dry, thumping sound was that of impacting against tight and compact flesh. The Detective remembered how the street was pretty much cleared from civilians, having them all ran away by then, which meant that shooting in a wide fan did not pose a threat for the innocent. Back to the sound of it, the strike had been true, but its receiver was one tough creature.

Making a solid guess for the she-beast's position, Eric's eyes focused on the now-thinning cloud of dust, a slender silhouette coming into view and approaching rapidly. Keen senses proving to be reliable as usual, Eric was able to react to the attack just in time, performing a well-timed tactical role to the side, a violent whistling cracking just above him as the serpentine tail whipped about. Didn't take great analytical skills to tell that a direct hit from that would've certainly left a nasty mark.

"Easy there with the whipping, I'm not really into that kind of play you know?" He added, quickly getting back up on his feet, now that the monster was on the offensive, a single second on the ground was another step to the grave. The dust had finally settled for the most part, hollow, lifeless eyesockets staring directly at the Detective with apparent bloodlust, on its side, a fresh wound all but confirmed Eric's previous conclusion on his attack.

"Okay, maybe we started things with the wrong foot, my bad" He started to walk slowly to the side, circling the ferocious beast. Analyzing the situation, this battle was not favorable for Eric. Nighttime meant that his supply of energy was considerably limited, and at this rate of usage he might not be able to go on much longer than thirty...perhaps fourty more minutes. Not to mention that the feline's physical prowess could end the detective in less than a dozen blows. He needed to fight defensively, use his powers conservatively and to wait for reinforcements to arrive. On the other hand, it was imperative to not allow his enemy to make its escape. Whatever that woman was trying to do back at the park, that might as well have been but the tip of the iceberg.

"I promise that if you behave well, I'll give you as much tuna as you want, is that a deal? Good brand, as well"

His eyes scanned the sorroundings between keeping a steady watch on the monster, considering his possibilities and how he might be able to use the terrain to his advantage. This was no for he could easily outwit, as behind the beastly shroud lied the mind of a criminal.



@Ramjammer
 
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Gideon Gray
SCENE:
Torment Builds Character, Right?
LOCATION:
Clark's Cafe, South District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Gideon, Hector
TORMENT BUILDS CHARACTER, RIGHT?
A rat? That had to be a joke. Gideon was already terrified of Hector, if he had to interact with the Queen whilst also being a rat, then Gideon would likely end up wetting his pants from the fear of it all. Hector was a monster. Like, what type of sane person would drink coffee like that? Coffee was meant to be savored, the bright acidic front, the smoky and bitter body, and the subtle notes in the back all in one harmonious sip. It was conceivable that some people drank their coffee for the caffeine. Those people chugged it like their life depended on it, and threw flavor to the wind,

But to be like Hector? To sniff it and not even take a sip?!

Gideon wondered why he even bothered to make a pourover coffee for Hector. But as he hung up his apron as if it were the end of his shift, he remembered. Oh right, it was to delay the inevitable.

"Yeah, sure. He's supposed to be here for another two and a half hours. He'll be paid for it," Miles said. Gideon was impressed that the flame-haired man could respond to Hector calmly. He also knew that the veiled threats that Hector was dishing out were meant to help Gideon, but he couldn't help but just feel bad for Miles. Before Gideon turned to leave, Miles piped up, "Oh, Gideon. Take this. I hope it helps."

Gideon turned around just in time to catch an object in his arms. It was a lacrosse stick. Gideon gave it a confused look before nodding to Miles and turning to leave. "Thanks?"

"Queen Moses, you do know that I'll just be in the way, right? Are you sure you want me to accompany you?" Gideon said as he headed out the back entrance. It was a pathetic attempt to escape, exasperated by the fact that saying such words really hurt Gideon's pride. He was supposed to be the Eville, mastermind and future overlord of New Oasis, not some schmuck who was terrified of his boss. Gideon tugged on his barista uniform shirt, "Also I don't have a spare shirt. This is the only one I have on me right now, and I don't want it to get ruined."

That was a less pathetic excuse. The last time he got blood on his uniform, he threw it out. Not because he couldn't wash the stains out, but because doing so made him nauseous. Miles was not happy to hear that. Hopefully, that would be a better get-out-of-jail card.

WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
SCENE:
New Royals
LOCATION:
Kaspian's Club, Central District
TIME:
Post Arc 2, about a month
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Tri
New Royals

Tri wanted to bring up the matter of being a paying customer again, but a hidden master wouldn't harp on money. He really didn't like these restrictions. This sucked. He wanted to rub it in. Instead, he raised a hand toward a waiter.

"Pour us two glasses."

This sucked he didn't even have a table to put a bottle on. Yeah, this sucked. Tri kept a little smile at Hector but he decided that he wanted to kick Hector's face in now.

A servant brought their drinks on a tray. Tri took one and sipped, long and deliberate. Yup, he had decided.

"I was here for an evening," he answered mildly. "but I changed my mind."

He didn't want to play around anymore. Well, he wanted to, but in a different way. Tri extracted a coin from his jacket. It was a novelty coin he took home from an East District's casino. He forgot where, but he liked the coin for one reason.

"Head, and I'll make this evening peaceful by my own terms." Tri tossed the coin. It flipped, flipped as it flew toward Hector's foot. Hector might also notice the reason Tri liked the coin:

The coin was weighted.


Tag: WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
Brandy Baker
SCENE:
Captives of The System
TIME:
~2004, Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Brandy Baker & Caio Santana Coelho
Captives of The System
"Mmm... I'unno..." Brandy flattened out her hair as she slid into the booth. An excited gleam twinkled in her eyes, shadowed by the slight twinge of a frown. "Mom and Dad come here a lot, but I haven't had much... I think they like the burgers?"

Brandy spoke to Caio, but her eyes were elsewhere. Wandering from countertops to customers, she absorbed each facet of the diner piece by piece. It felt strange, almost alien to actually have come inside and taken a seat, with how many times she'd greedily eyed people's dinners through the storefront window. The kitchen's aroma, fresh and untainted by the North's inescapable pungency tickled her nose, and every different variation of 'a burger with different vegetables' on the menu piqued her curiosity.

"They get this big one with um... Two patties, I think? A lot of other stuff. And fries... And..." She struggled to recall what exactly it was that her parents' go-to order was. "A milk drink, I think? They don't always finish it, so I tried it once, but it wasn't very nice cold."

Still better than stale bread and plain pasta, though.

"Can we get that? Maybe it's this, um, Big Brunch Burger? Or maybe the Crunchtime Special?" Her brow crinkled as she scanned the cheap, laminated menu. She was still excited, but how was anyone supposed to know what any of these words meant? Maybe it was an adult thing.

"...With a strawberry shake." Was that right? "And fries?"

 
Deirest
SCENE:
The Murder Above The Coffin
TIME:
June 8th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Wherever Dregs Pool, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Areith, Deirest
The Murder Above The Coffin
She saw madness. She saw delusion. She saw the fetters of the unfettered mind.

"No, no..." No, she saw none of it. The thick cataracts of ignorance lidded her eyes. Beyond herself, the woman from the coffin saw nothing but faint, shadowed impressions of the world. Since she'd woken she had been doing no more than swinging at smoke, blind and furious.

Her arms were tired now. She retreated from the holy woman's touch.

"No no no... That isn't it..." Even now she could still feel it. That buzz in the back of her skull. An impression of what was. What was lost. What was round. What was hard. What hung high. What was struck low. What was buried beneath. What was no more. What was taken from her. What was thrown into the dark. What was drenched in blood. What she had seen. What she had not. What was rightfully hers. What she was naked without. What she'd broken free from.

What, what, what...

"Who... Who are they?" Her wits swum back to her. In the stained-glass filtered moonlight, her eyes glimmered with a fresh clarity. "Are they the ones who took?" Her eyes strained and she itched at the side of her head. She scratched until blood wept, as if her thoughts dribbled free with it.

"I told them." Those other ones. "I have something." She needed it. "It's gone." They took it. "And they wouldn't tell me."

"You." Her. She smelled of something different. Shepherds led the blind, and blind she was. "You know. Take me. Show me. Where are they?"

Memories of the Black Cloaks came to her, warbling and distorted by poison's touch. Her hands twitched around an invisible neck. She remembered. She would not forget again. They were draped in it; the color of her dreams, in the shade of her waking nightmares. She knew. She knew.

She'd know.

She would know.

 
Little Red
scene:
A Daughter’s Eulogy
location:
South District
date:
2021 | Post Hurricane
participants:
Red, Jericho
A Daughter’s Eulogy
Red snapped up and snatched the assorted snacks from his hands. She tore a bag of chips and started shoving the thin crisps into her mouth. The salt only enhanced the taste of her saliva in her mouth. She was so hungry she was almost mad she hadn’t realized it earlier. Without thinking twice (or even once), Red snatched her machete from its hilt and stabbed open a cereal box. She poured the whole thing down her throat, chomping on each in rapid succession as it went down.

She didn’t say a thing as she feasted. She felt rabid, but the hunger took over everything else she felt.

Red finished every last crumb of the chips and cereal she had been given. As she wiped her mouth with her wrist, she felt guilt settle in. Despite his generosity, he probably hadn’t expected her to eat everything. She lowered her head with a cough.

“Sorry. Thank you.”

She felt more awake now that her busy body was processing energy. She felt sluggish still—far more than she would have if she had eaten any of the fruits or veggies. Despite the fact that it made horrible fuel, junk food was one of the things Red couldn’t resist. But the important thing was that she wasn’t starved to death.

Red fiddled with her hands as she crossed her legs. She wasn’t feeling coy, nor was she feeling predatory, and yet she couldn’t help but take on meek posture.

“Um..” Red started, “I do need more food.”

And it felt rude. Because he was giving her space and had fed her plenty and assured her of her safety when it was something very few people knew how to do, and she needed more from him. But there wasn’t much else to say.

“I ain’t trying to be greedy,” She added. “It’s just—It’s my potential. You’ve got one too, right?”

It was a fair assumption to make, she assumed. With his crimson skin, one and a half horns, and curling tail, she would have thought him a devil if he weren’t so kind.


 
Haley "Rolos" Boyd
SCENE:
In and Out Tagging Job[xxx]
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Khydnah
In and Out Tagging Job
Rolos was in the North District, waiting for Khydnah who had offered to help him on his graffiti job. He had a belt on with several cans of spray paint hooked on. "You gonna help me tag some of the other districts?" He would smile, holding a little concrete Lucky Cat statue.

Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters-
 
Caio Santana Coelho
SCENE Music:
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

Actions were always more reliable than words when it came down to it. He relaxed under Tri’s touch letting the fingers laced in his hair give him the reassurances he needed. His brain always worked a bit against his favor but his reckless reactions had ruined it all for him before.

“Idiot”

There was an unmistakable fondness to his voice as he brought his forehead to the other’s. With a small push to the chest he pushed Tri back. He took the opportunity to shove one of the additional pillows on the bed at him before collapsing back on to the bed as well.

“It’s THREE AM. Go the fuck to sleep.”

He could blame the sappiness on the sleep deprivation he was feeling but that would be the world’s worst cop out. With a content smile he brought himself closer to Tri. He wrapped his arms around the other and whispered his response into his chest just barely being audible.

“I love you too. But if tomorrow is hell because you woke me up at three am you will be working in the goddamn lab with me. ‘Specially cause we were already fucking behind.”

Tags: Damafaud Damafaud

 
Ashley Hart
CS Link
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
TIME:
Post Arc-3; 2 1/2 Weeks Later
LOCATION:
The Old Dojo, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ashley, Charlie, Gideon, Hector, Hitoshi, Kaede
GET(TING) HELP
As Ashley peeled himself off the wall, he applied pressure to the side of his neck with his palm, eliciting a satisfying pop. Grin still in place, he let out a somewhat breathy chuckle. "Not exactly what I had in mind, Blue."

He was trying to give Charlie a chance to use his Potential to beef himself up. Ashley didn't really have the option of turning his off, so it seemed like the best way of keeping things fair. The message didn't seem to get across very well, though. Or did it actually and this was his idea of "even"? If that was the case, he'd be sure to make him regret it with some friendly retaliation.

"But if that's how you want it..." With his grip tightening on the baton, he focused on the now distant form of his friend, his eyes illuminated with a shade of red that burned a bit brighter than the previous dim flash of color. He knew it wasn't close to Charlie's full force, but it was enough to get his Potential going, a concoction of fucked up chemicals now flowing directly into his brain. It wouldn't make him lose himself like it did when he was a kid, but it would help a bit with keeping his mind off of all the heavy topic bullshit. Even though they couldn't go all out and give him the full relief he was looking for, it was a step in the right direction.

Having been hit with a shot of adrenaline, Ashley rushed forward, carried by heightened speed as his muscles tightened. He raised the baton, prepared to bring it down with an overhead swing as he closed in. But before it reached the end of its arc, he stopped and aimed a kick at Charlie's midsection. Eye for an eye.


 
Ezra Knight
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams

TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022

LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Passeri, Vissarion, Markus, Jessamine, Hiachi, Takakazu, Elias, Missy
CLAD IN GOLDEN DREAMS
In the midst of idle chatter with various socialites who had the potential to open their hearts and wallets for the sake of New Oasis, Ezra was sucker-punched by an unfortunate sense of déjà vu. When the sounds of a panicked stampede and shattering glass reached his ears, he was momentarily transported to the day of his first assignment with the Tigers. Just like back then, time seemed to slow down, the loud beats of his heart pounding in his ears like the nerve-wracking countdown of an explosive timer. However, that was where the similarities ended.

This time, there was no spine-chilling jolt of possessive energy that wormed its way into his brain. His mind was his own, and for the first time, he was fully in control of his actions and the consequences. Making use of that newfound freedom, he immediately reacted to the presence of the intruding assailants.

As the nearby guests ran to safety, Ezra's eyes darted to the enemy suit that entered his peripheral. Without hesitating, he turned on his heels and stomped against the back of the assassin's leg, eliciting a grotesque cracking sound as their tibia and fibula were crushed by the force. No screams followed. There was only the sound of a body crumbling into a pile on the ballroom floor as a swift right hook to the jaw rendered the target unconscious.

Unfortunately, the situation only worsened from there. Another terrible memory wormed its way to the forefront of Ezra's mind as insects began to swarm. Thoughts of the day he spent underground kept him alert, and he quickly scanned the room. Equal parts good and bad, he was surprised to actually see the person that came to mind. One of the cultists had wandered in. They invaded a place meant to help alleviate some of the suffering they caused.

There was a terribly strong temptation to make a beeline for the Grant. He wanted answers. He wanted to prevent them from causing any more harm. He wanted to know what happened to his friend. And yet, despite how badly he wanted to pursue the lead that had suddenly waltzed in, he couldn't let himself do that..There were still other people here who needed his help, and he couldn't let his personal motivations put the other guests in danger.

It pained him to do so, but he turned away from Araminta and focused on the tattooed woman who had been kept at bay by Passeri. He quickly reached inside his coat and withdrew the two pieces that made up his weapon, clutching the separated blade and hilt. He gave the sharpened metal a good toss, aiming between the assassin and the herd of Tigers. He then channeled his Potential into the hilt, and in response, it tugged him in the same direction, pulling him towards the group.

In an instant, he arrived, and this weapon became fully formed. With the pink barrier at his back, he pointed the sword at the tattooed enemy. As his free hand loosened the tie around his neck, he called out to Passeri. "I'll try to support you as much as I can."

This scene was also familiar to him. Once again, he was fighting alongside the performer. However, this would be the first time he'd do so as himself.


 
Elias Yumin
SCENE:
In The Tigers' Web
TIME:
June 3rd, 2022 | Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1
LOCATION:
Nameless Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jennifer, Ezra, Elias, Dagger
In The Tigers' Web

“That won’t be necessary,” Elias chimed in, stepping forward from where he’d been quietly watching the events of the storefront unfold. From the appearance of the dogs, to the brawl, to Passeri explosively wrenching herself free and reversing the situation, Anamnesis of the Albino Tigers had stood back, arms folded, and observed it all with unblinking eyes. He’d seen no reason to jump in. Fighting wasn’t his strong suit and Dagger’s ghostly hounds seemed to have everything under control.

His interference might’ve made things more complicated.

And, as he’d stated to Runner, he hadn’t minded one way or another whether or not she left with her father…so long as he got what he wanted in the end. He’d been open to negotiation. That part hadn’t been a lie, even if he’d mainly spoken to buy the Tigers time act.

And act they did; Dagger, at the very least, didn’t disappoint.

So now there was no longer any need to negotiate.

Not that negotiating with hostage takers, nor giving into their demands, was normally a good idea in the first place. Elias had been content to see how the new Jack would handle the situation…at least until Jacob Weber said his piece.

A bit of anger emerged from within Yumin Entertainment’s young heir then, though none of it appeared on his impassive face. A patriarch that didn’t care for the safety of their heir? One that chose the secrets of some obscure organization over family? Was it pity he’d felt for the Weber heiress, who’d clearly chosen the opposite, or sympathy? Righteous anger on Runner’s behalf? Hearing a father say such, especially when one risked everything to oppose the Albino Tigers and free them from their confines, must hurt.

Regardless, Jacob’s maniacal scream made it apparent that negotiation wasn’t an option.

And so, stopping beside the spot where Dagger’s ghostly hounds had Jacob secured, Anamnesis knelt, careful not to agitate the canines. He lifted Jacob’s chin so their eyes met. “If you no longer have any need for your daughter, I can remove all your memories of her. That way, she'll be effectively dead to you. No guilt. No drama. A clean cut.

Elias smiled coldly. “You seem to be under a bit of misapprehension about the current situation, Mr. Weber, so let me make some things abundantly clear. The Jack’s offer to exchange Jennifer’s life for your knowledge was a courtesy, not a necessity; A chance for you to come clean by your own will while retaining at least some sense of nobility. We don’t need you to speak. We can take what we want with my potential. Given enough time, I can learn everything you know as if I’ve lived your entire life. And I do mean everything. The people important to you. Your childhood fears. No secret is safe once I delve into your memories, regardless of whether your heir dies or not .” That was up to Passeri. Elias had no control over the pink needle above Jennifer’s head. “And don’t even think of trying to kill yourself because, by the time I’m through with you, you won’t even remember why you would want to…assuming I leave you any memories at all.”

He shrugged, glancing back at the injured idol–who Z was undoubtedly healing–before returning his attention to Jacob. “I suppose that’d be up to higher ups–whether I leave you with any memories or re-create new ones, that is. Who knows? By the time you wake up, you might become an ally. Betray your god. Or remember a different life altogether. I honestly don’t care. ”

It wasn’t Elias Yumin’s nature to make threats. To sound so utterly gangster-like, though he wouldn’t deny how…liberating…it felt to don the Anamnesis mask either. To use his potential to its fullest. Was it even a mask? Or was it his true nature, unhindered by his understanding of morality and law.

Did it matter?

The rookie Tiger tilted his head. “So then, shall we begin?”

Grip tightening on Jacob Weber’s chin, Elijah Anamnesis began the memory dive without another word. It would take time to do all he said. To view all the memories. To search every nook and cranny of Jacob’s mentally stored data for the information they sought. Should he actually undergo the project of crafting a life’s worth of false memories it might even take days. Weeks even (assuming he wanted to be thorough/careful about it). He wouldn’t be able to defend himself while doing so. However, within the confines of Park’s basement, given that the Weber family seemed to be thoroughly caught within the Tiger’s web, Anamnesis had all the time in the world.

He readied himself for a long night.


simj26 simj26 @Uasal The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit Lucem Lucem @Saturn_moon
 
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Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
If Nutrition Was Really Important They'd Call It Life Value Instead of Daily Value
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 || 2020
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, Melody miki miki
If Nutrition Was Really Important They'd Call It Life Value Instead of Daily Value

The wheels of a shopping cart rolled across the vinyl flooring. Squeaky and worn, they trudged along, pushed forward by plain-looking gray open-toed sandals and socks. Blue sweatpants and a black shirt with the decals of gunshot holes adorned his chest. His hands gripped the cart handle while his grayish-green eyes scanned the surrounding shelves with the slightest tinge of interest. Lips formed into a small pout as his posture slouched, stopping in his tracks to reach a hand up and put fingers through his scalp, scratching through his puffy hair as a small sweat drop went down the side of his face.

“I never realized how expensive everything was…”
he mumbled, looking across the various price tags in front of him. Glass jars of fruit jams, jellies, and preserves lined the shelves before him, and different colors of labels and deals decorated each section. The focus slowly planned out to show the full-grown man staring at the wall of jam, the canned goods right behind him as he stared in silence, analyzing.

His hand reached out to grab a small jar of raspberry jam, looking it over with a tiny bit of sullenness on his face, “7.99 for this little thing? All you do is put it on toast…” He mumbled in annoyance before placing it back with a sigh; he turned to look at his cart, leaning forward to loom over it as a small shadow went over his face, looking through everything he had bought so far.

Within his cart was a total mess of everything strewn everywhere: red boxes of instant rice meals spread with blue boxes of T.V. dinners, just add water mac and cheese hidden under bags of chips. The list included lunch meat, pre-packaged donuts, soda, frozen pizza, and ice cream. Not a single fruit or vegetable in sight.

Tak reached down and pulled out a bright-colored box from the pile; the face of some woman with white-blue hair wearing some frilly outfit was on the front. It was on clearance since it was about to expire, but he remembered when he picked it up, he felt a bit embarrassed when some little girls grabbed their mother’s sleeves and pointed at him, shouting, “Look! He likes her too!”

And ever since he put it in his cart, random guys would nod at him knowingly for some reason.

It was weird.

He pushed all that aside and dropped the box to let it land back into his cart, “I’ve never had to budget before,” he openly thought, glancing back down to his shopping cart. Nearly everything he picked up was on sale or clearance in some capacity, and even then, he was still spending hundreds of dollars. Before that, it never mattered; he could always steal more money from some random thug or take the food together, depending on his mood.

But he wasn’t a two-bit crook anymore. He was a Tiger now; he stood with the jungle kings. However, it came at a massive cost of an entry fee that took him ages to even afford.

Now, he was shopping with barely anything to his name. But he needed to fill out the fridge in his new apartment. When he was a kid, he would have thought this was some fantastic part of growing up, being your own man.

But, now that he was sitting here having to price out the cost of milk, consider the worth of a pack of cookies, stuff he had never felt before outside of, “This is something I want, and my mom should get it for me.”

He could think of only one thing right now as he placed his hands in his pockets and looked up towards the ceiling.

“I wanna go back home and play on my GSP.”

That childish thought hung in his head momentarily as he mutedly stared upward.

“Vroom broom!” The excited effervescence of a child came with the sounds of his cart rattling. Tak’s eyes slowly gazed downward to see a kid with a toy car driving it across the side of his shopping cart, obnoxious and rambunctious.

“Oi, kid,” Tak immediately leaned down upon seeing the little runt, the bright-eyed boy looking up to him with a smile, clearly oblivious to what he was doing was anything wrong. “Where the hell’s your mom at?”

“Feur!”
A question was quickly answered by a woman’s voice behind him, causing him to glance over his shoulder; an older lady promptly rushed over to grab the child by the wrist, tugging him away with an authoritative glare, “What did I tell you about running off on your own!?” she chastised him, before promptly giving him a light whack on the back of the head, she quickly turned her attention back to Tak, putting on a small smile, “I’m sorry, you know how boys are…”

Tak gawked at her for a pause; for a moment, it seemed that words of ire would slip his lips. But then, he broke into a slight grin, the slightest chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah, boys will be boys. I remember when I was his age, I was doin’ all types of things I had no business doin’. He’s lucky; my mom woulda have done a lot more than just slap me on the top of my head,” he reminisced, placing a hand on his shopping card.

“My mom was the same way! He doesn’t know how blessed he is,” she prattled on, ruffling up her kid’s hair before grabbing him by the shoulders and ushering him along, C’mon, we gotta get back to daddy,” a gentle nudge that pushed him along back up the aisle.

Tak watched them leave, the kid innocently waving back to Tak as his mother dragged him away. Tak’s smile gradually melted away from his face as he was back alone, only with the store music keeping him company.

Once again, he turned back to the shelf, looking at all the jams and jellies, a hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as his posture slouched.

“Maybe I should try some marmalade…. Damn, 9.99?”

 
Inigo Han
SCENE:
Not Thinking Twice
LOCATION:
Nighttime, Streets of Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camilla, Inigo
Not Thinking Twice

It was awkward. It was strange. He never had his arm held before. Not by anyone, male, female, or in between. He reasoned that she must still be feeling cold, even with his jacket draped over her shoulders. He didn't quite feel the night's chill, but he supposed different people had different levels of tolerance for the changes in temperature. This theory seemed to hold water, especially since she had only just been accosted by a pair of thugs. He wasn't sure about it, but it would seem to him that the shock of it all might have affected her.

He nodded quietly as they stepped out of the alleyway, moving into and through much more crowded areas. Even into the late night of the work week, people still milled about. It was safer in the company of people. This was the right approach.

They soon found themselves settled into a quaint little coffeehouse next to a gas station. He didn't recognise the place. He wasn't much of a coffee person. It was sugar, energy drinks and a good sleep the day before that kept him through graveyard shifts and all nighters. He looked at the menu above the counter, and took in the smell of freshly brewed coffee and of something cooking in the back. He smelled bacon. And maybe eggs. All day breakfast. A good place to stop by the next time he was around.

“I'll take your word for it,” he said, setting down his groceries on a seat beside him, as he found one next to the woman. “How are you feeling now? Any better?” He indicated her earlier injuries.



Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
In The Tigers' Web
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 3rd
LOCATION:
Nameless Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jennifer, Ezra, Elias, Dagger
In The Tigers' Web
"Just get what we need." Passeri's tone was flat, and her blood was boiling. No matter how much she tried to calm herself it only became more fierce. Her arms felt tense. No matter how much she fought to distract herself and still her thoughts, they continued to bustle. Jacob's words were still ringing in her ears.

Kill her.

She watched him as Elias combed through his mind. The way his eyes glazed over, bereft of thought. Bereft of guilt and bereft of fear. He'd walk away from this a free man. Elias may have made it sound like a threat, but really it was anything but. A clean slate was a golden ticket. He'd go home like nothing had happened. His daughter would never know just how disposable she really was.

Kill her.

She knew what that was like. It had been her life for thirteen years. Brandy Baker had been the same. A tool. Something to be used and thrown away. Passeri had little sympathy left for Jennifer but this, at least, sparked outrage in her chest.

Kill her.

No.

Kill her.

She had many reasons to kill Jacob Weber.

This was the one that pushed her over the edge.

"Are you done?" Passeri wasn't sure how many minutes had passed by the time that Elias had finished sifting through the Weber patriarch's mind. The wait had only deepened her resolve. Her countenance, which usually well-obscured even her most grim thoughts, was dark. Ringed by the shadows of sleep deprivation, her eyes were fixed on Jacob still.

"You can leave, now. Fill me in tomorrow." She spoke to Elias, but not Jacob. She didn't spare the man a word as she approached. Her shoes padded lightly across the concrete floor until she stood over him, her eyes boring into his.

Every other time she'd had to kill, she had hesitated. This was where. The point where she looked into the other person's eyes and saw the humanity reflected within. Every other time she'd had to block it out. To remind herself that she was only doing what she had to. That she'd expended every other option.

There was no such hesitation as she looked into Jacob Weber's eyes. She saw none of that humanity within him. Passeri held out her palm, and Jacob's eyes vanished behind the back of her hand. No matter how long she stared into such empty things, it would make no difference in the end.

The glow of her Potential ignited between her fingertips.

 
Ezra Knight
CS Link
SCENE:
In the Tigers' Web


TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 3rd


LOCATION:
Nameless Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Dagger, Elias, Jennifer, Passeri
IN THE TIGERS' WEB
Back against the wall, Ezra kept a close eye on both Webbers as Elias drained Jacob of his memories until the man's brain was dry. With his index finger resting on cold steel, he was prepared to intervene at the first sign of trouble. However, he couldn't prevent his occasionally flitting gaze from settling on Passeri.

He had taken care of her injuries, and now it was as if the scuffle never happened. He'd even patched up her clothes for good measure, not a single tear or stain to be seen. But even with that being the case, it was clear to him that what happened had left a deeper wound, something his Potential couldn't fix.

Ezra always felt he could see through facades fairly well, but even without that skill, he believed he'd still be able to tell that Passeri was doing a poor job of keeping her composure. Despite her flat tone, her anger was clear. She was impatient, rushing Elias so she would finally have no more use for their prisoner. He couldn't say he didn't understand.

Anyone would be furious and want nothing more than to be done dealing with someone who tried to murder them, especially someone as morally bankrupt as Webber. However, he couldn't help but think the man's reaction to the threat on Jennifer's life played a role in Passeri's behavior. He acknowledged that there was a high chance of his personal biases leading him to that conclusion, as he was still cooling down from the shock and anger that stirred inside of him when he heard a father goad someone on to kill their own child.

Webber was someone he hesitated to call a person. The complete disregard for human life had been made clear when the living sacrifices were discovered, but it was made even more apparent when Jennifer was moments away from death. She was treated like nothing, a broken tool that failed to free her father. It wasn't a situation he was wholly unfamiliar with, but this was on a different level. Just thinking back to it was enough to revitalize the dregs of rage he put to rest. His teeth clenched as his nails stabbed into his palm, but he was able to calm himself down once again. That seemed to prove difficult for the leader of the operation.

He continued to watch her, unblinking eyes capturing every movement Passeri made after she gave Elias the order to leave. He observed her quiet, foreboding approach, still motionless as she looked down at him with an expression he'd yet to see on the ordinarily lively idol. Then there was the familiar flash of pink, something that often provided protection and the promise of safety to those who needed it. It offered no such kindness this time.

Ezra was almost certain he never took a single step away from the wall, but when he finally tore his gaze away from Passeri, he took in the reality of his situation. His arm forcefully pushed against hers, causing the intended murder weapon to change course and sink into the floor. Then he looked back at her, meeting her eyes.

He'd been in similarly tense situations before. He could still remember staring down the lord of the West, not feeling a single ounce of fear as a creeping chill threatened to consume his entire body. The difference now was that there was no one else to blame for his behavior except himself. This was a far more egregious act of insubordination. He directly interfered with the Jack of the Tigers, physically stopping her. The potential consequences were great in number, and many of them had the potential to make him wish for a death as quick as the one he just prevented. However, he was strangely calm at that moment. His arm remained steady before he calmly let it fall to his side, and his voice was free of the usual stutter that shackled it.

"Are you sure that's for the best?" Returning his gun to its holster, he scrutinized his superior, taking in her stance and expression. "Are you the one making the call, or are your emotions deciding?"

He looked at Jacob Webber one last time to confirm his feelings. As he looked down at him, he became certain. He felt no sympathy. There was no such thing as compassion for his fellow man. It wasn't something a devil deserved. However, he still had his own values, and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't try to stand by them when he had the opportunity.

"If you've really considered every other option and still think this is the right one, there's nothing I can do to stop you." Even if he decided to protect Webber's life by taking a stand against Passeri, he was outnumbered. Despite having a relationship with Dagger that predated their time with the gang, he was under no illusion that his former mentor would choose him over her boss. He also didn't fail to see how other routes could lead to disaster

If they decided to turn their prisoner into a pawn by manipulating him with Elias's Potential, there was always the chance the memory alteration could be undone. He had personal experience with something frighteningly similar, so he knew the threat would always be there. Keeping Webber permanently locked up would also be a challenge with no benefit, and converting him was impossible. As much as he hated to admit it, advocating for the blue-eyed demon to live seemed like a fruitless endeavor. Even so, he wanted to try. For Passeri's sake at the very least.

He still knew close to nothing about her. A vast majority of their interactions occurred when he was still a puppet on razor-sharp strings. The rest were brief and lacked substance, usually leaving him with the familiar feeling of not being worthy of someone's time or consideration. However, he saw how she cared for the city and its people. That alone made him bold enough to step up and make sure there wouldn't be any feelings of regret for either of them.

"I don't think it's good for you to do this when you're not completely yourself. That's it." He knew just how much of his personal struggle soaked into those words. He didn't want her to deal with the inescapable feeling of living with decisions made under the influence of anything but her own conviction. It was a selfless act filled to the brim with selfishness, but he didn't particularly care.

"Even if you still want to go through with this, I don't think Jennifer should have to go through the same thing. The only thing we have proof of so far is that she chose her father over the Tigers. We didn't see her with the rest of the cult. And being related to someone like this seems like an even worse punishment." He didn't bother to give Webber another look.

"If she lives, Elias can use his Potential to minimize risks, and I can use the resources I have to keep tabs on her."


 
Last edited:
Dagger
SCENE:
In The Tiger's Web
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 3rd
LOCATION:
Nameless Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jennifer, Ezra, Elias, Dagger
In The Tiger's Web

She stood by Jennifer's unconscious body, quietly observing Park's mending and thr sudden change in demeanour. She couldn't be sure, but she was certain that she was familiar with the look in her eyes. She was prepared to kill. The Princess had finally found that part of her, that cold instinct to end a man's life. No, wait. That wasn't right. It was more as if she had rediscovered that ice. Just like Elise Cutter, she had never lost it. Just like in the flickering flames, in the ringing of cacophony around her, she simply dug up what she had tried to bury. For that moment, Dagger was interested to see if that ice held fast.

It was also why she failed to restrain herself from sighing when Knight stepped in, opting for a much more pacifistic approach, to let this coward walk. Disappointment, resignation, whatever it was the sigh conveyed, even she didn’t know. What she did know was that Park's eyes thawed. Doubt. Hesitation.

She had to finish it for her. Blood on the Princess’s hands was, after all, going to besmirch her reputation. She strode forwards, took hold of the Weber patriarch’s hair, and jerked his head back forcefully, exposing his neck. A gleam of steel, darkened immediately by dark crimson, and Jacob Weber's life had become nothing more than a memory. Strangled breaths, drowning in his own blood, a corpse that didn't know it was dead yet. She held on, until the last rasping croak bubbled forth from his bloodied mouth and the gash across his neck. She released her grip on the man, letting his limp body fall back into a heap.

She straightened up and stepped back, bringing her gloved hand over the knife and swiped the blood off it. It disgusted her, having to use the very blade that ended the lives of much greater warriors to end this coward's. It was an insult to her previous hunts, as batfuck insane and bloodthirsty as they could be. The bloodied, grinning teeth, defiant to his end, the shallow chuckle as her last breath, the arms thrown wide in acceptance of his fate…they were all monsters, but they did not shy away from death.

People like Jacob Weber were the vilest forms of monsters. What father would willingly give his daughter’s life? She couldn't understand it. Father would never have done this, and she wasn't even his blood daughter. His last words to her, pushing her away to safety, still clung to her like his dogtags hanging around her neck. What Jacob Weber did, it was beyond reason. She glared at Jennifer Weber’s body. She was free from his chains now. She hoped she would appreciate that when she began to remember.

Dagger returned the knife into its holster, and took hold of Jacob's feet, dragging him over to the room they had kept him in earlier, quietly taking her leave from the conversation.


 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Overcast, In Saline
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 7th [Morning]
LOCATION:
Clemency Private Hospital, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric, Dagger, Kiwi, Dante, Pei
Overcast, In Saline
"Yes."

Passeri answered quickly.

Too quickly.

The word was out of her mouth before she knew it, spat out faster than her mind could register. A pause followed. A blunt lull in the air as the rest of her words gathered upon her tongue. Her heart beat faster as she looked into Kiwi's eyes. The doubt she saw in them crawled into her own. The fear she saw behind it pushed it even deeper.

"Yeah... I mean..." She fumbled for what to say next. Anything deft or clever fell through her fingers. All she found was a shovel, laid in her hands and digging her grave deeper and deeper.

"W-what else could it have been...?" The icy logic which Elise had started to thaw had finally melted. There was only a puddle left, now. The depth of her lies could only run so deep. "It was a fan event, right...? He turned up because he knew, and..."

Her chest felt tight. Memories, still fresh and raw, came in turn with her words. She could see it again. Bodies skewered high above the supermarket aisles. Faces that had only been present because she had been too. An attack that had come for her and her alone.

"Shit, sorry, I..."

It was her fault.

"Um- He started yelling, and..."

She recalled the moment. Again. Again. Again.

It was her fault.

"He was so angry..."

His voice. The spite. The hate. She recalled it. How he'd goaded at her. She imagined it. How he'd laugh over their corpses. She saw them in the supermarket. Hanging limp and high in the air. Caio. Her grandmother. Elise. Kiwi. Eric. The President. Dante. Lisette. Kenki. Hiachi. Dimitri. Flo. Ariel. Her tutors. Her teachers. Her old classmates. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone. Everyone.

And all of it was going to be her fault.

"S-sorry, I..." Her voice cracked, and her hand moved to cover her eyes. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give him that. "I can't... Sorry... Please... Give me a minute..."

Interacted: @gxxberkit
Relevant: simj26 simj26
 
Last edited:
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Overcast, In Saline
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 7th [Noon]
LOCATION:
Clemency Private Hospital, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric, Dagger, Kiwi, Dante, Pei
Overcast, In Saline
"Right?" Under the pressure of Eric's thumb, Passeri feigned her best imitation of a laugh, which in the end amounted to little more than a wry smile. "Sorry, sorry... I'm still new to this whole playing patient thing... You think I should be turning on the waterworks a bit more? Really seems a bit dramatic, to me..."

She was speaking nonsense. A garbled static of words to fill the air, for dread of anything else- anything out of her control- slipping into it instead.

The press of a bedside buzzer invited the presence of a nurse, and soon, the promised bowl of soup was in Eric's hands. An aroma of pork and cabbage wafted up from the cheap, plastic bowl, an echo of a day not even a month past.

"You mind taking notes on that for me?" Another chord to still the silence. "Apparently people have been complaining at the soup kitchen about a lack of variety... Maybe the hospital special can spice things up a bit? I bet the subtle notes of ammonia would be a huge hit..."

She was feeling calmer, now. The panic of the morning had finally left her. Her frame relaxed into her sheets and her expression brightened, if only by an inch.

But there was still something itching at the back of her mind.

The elephant in the room.

She didn't want to touch it. She didn't even want to look at it.

But she needed to know.

"Say, Eric..." She was avoiding eye contact, now. This sort of thing was easier under the veil of ignorance. "You... Aren't planning on looking into this, are you? Not the police... You." Not the Officer. The man she was talking to right now. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this guy... He was dangerous."

She wished she could elaborate. About how thoroughly he'd crushed her strongest efforts. But Iroi- Passeri Park- wasn't someone who was supposed to have strong efforts to offer. The Jack of the Albino Tigers had not been bested in a duel, the celebrity princess had fallen in the path of a violent maniac.

"Really dangerous." Still, she impressed as much weight onto her words as she could. "Do you... Understand what I'm saying, here?"

It didn't need to be him, or her, or anyone else that she knew.

Blood on concrete.

She didn't want it to be.

Interacted: Roda the Red Roda the Red
Relevant:N/A
 
Last edited:
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Overcast, In Saline
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 7th [Afternoon]
LOCATION:
Clemency Private Hospital, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric, Dagger, Kiwi, Dante, Pei
Overcast, In Saline
Another face she hadn't been expecting.

Passeri stirred within her bedsheets. It would have a lie to call what she'd been doing rest, but she had at least managed to lose awareness of her surroundings. Her mind has been cast elsewhere, sinking into the glum recollections of her previous visitors. Wallowing in worry.

"Aha. I guess the paparazzi never sleeps, do they?" Passeri's exhaustion, both mental and physical, was apparent. She'd managed to hold strong through the first half of the day, but her lack of sleep was finally catching up with her. Her voice dragged as she spoke.

"Depends on who you ask." She answered plainly. Unlike when Kiwi had visited her, Passeri's composure was with her now. The answers she'd practiced came readily to her lips. "If you ask the Doctors... Months. But if you ask me... Then I've got this feeling that a Knight in shining armor is going to whisk me away well before that."

That was what mattered. Her mind went to the morning. That was what mattered. Why hadn't she been able to understand that?

"Even mortal coil's nothing in the face of capitalism, huh? The things that money can buy, these days..." Her voice trailed off. When she'd laid all of this out in her head, it'd all sounded so certain. This was a problem, nothing more, and a problem to which she had a solution.

But what if she hadn't?

What if, next time, there really wasn't a panacea waiting at her beck and call?

A wave of doubt flushed across her brow, and then she banished the thought.

"Nice seeing you, by-the-by..." She pushed the topic aside, as was the running theme for the day. Blunt and rusted, the small talk emerged next. "You do know you're a hard guy to keep track of, right? It's always here, there... Everywhere, really... You've got to tell me your secret, someday. I'd love to be everywhere at once."

Or anywhere but here would do, really.

Interacted: The Regal Rper The Regal Rper
Relevant:N/A
 
Last edited:
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Overcast, In Saline
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 7th [Evening]
LOCATION:
Clemency Private Hospital, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric, Dagger, Kiwi, Dante, Pei
Overcast, In Saline
"Sage wisdom, is it?" Passeri's eyes remained glued to Pei's. She saw it clearly, the disappointment that blossomed with them. That disinterested glower that dismissed her as some sad, dismissable little thing. Typically, it wouldn't have bothered her, but today was a different story. Pricks of anger bristled beneath her bandages. Not because she was offended, but because she knew that he was right.

What had become of the resolve that she'd returned to this city with? She'd allowed it to be ground up and turned to dust. The woman who had stepped onto the hot tarmac of the city's airport brimming with confidence and a plan for the future had been taken apart, piece by piece, and reduced down to...

Her body struggled beneath her bandages to right itself, but found no avail.

...This.

"Haha..." A painful chuckle shook Passeri's ribs. A toy. That was exactly what she was. What she'd let herself be turned into.

She gritted her teeth, and summoned the faint wisps of energy she'd gathered through the day into her palm. There was a soft rip, a definite sound of at least one of her wounds being pulled back open, as she swerved her body around. Her ass fell into its proper place with a faint squeak, and Passeri bit back the thorough complaints that her battered body made in the face of such rough handling.

"Let's not exaggerate..." Passeri spoke through the wave of fresh pain. It wasn't like the screaming rivulets of agony that had come as her bones had shattered, nor the dull aches which she'd awoken to whenever she slept. Inflicted by her own hand, it was sharp and liberating, freeing her mind from the deep mire of worry and self-pity that it had been wallowing in.

If only for the moment.

"Nothing rides on anyone's back, not in this city." How simple things would have been if they did. "No matter which piece you take out, the gears keep turning... But so long as you're on the board you can still ram a stick between their teeth. Try a new strategy. Field another piece on the board."

The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor. Passeri felt the touch of cold, humid air brush against her skin.

"But playing clean or dirty? You're missing the point. Playing by someone else's rules is just letting them win while wearing your skin. That's why nothing ever changes in this city. The rules it's built on are for taking and taking and taking... Nothing more." Whoever was King, Queen, Jack, Ace... None of it really mattered. They were all the same men and women, only draped in different faces and different clothes. "I said this to someone else, a while ago... I'm not playing games. You can take your house rules and shove them up your ass."

Interacted: thebigfella thebigfella
Relevant: N/A
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
In The Tigers' Web
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 3rd
LOCATION:
Nameless Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jennifer, Ezra, Elias, Dagger
In The Tigers' Web
Passeri's eyes were locked on the floor. The stake she'd driven into it. The hateful barb that should have gone through Jacob's skull.

She could hear Ezra speaking, but she didn't meet his eyes. Wide and riddled with bloodlust, her eyes kept digging deeper into the concrete. Jacob Weber still kneeled before her. Breathing. He kept breathing.

In, out, in, out.

Every breath was one too many.

"I'm not." She was. "It's got nothing to do with it. He needs to die. You know that." Even as she addressed Ezra's plea, she still didn't look at him. Her voice was the coldest it'd been the entire night, trying to convince herself as much as him. "Let's say we let him go. Elias wipes him clean and he doesn't even know his name anymore."

The stake raised into the air.

"And then what? We pray? We don't know what his friends are capable of. Who's to say that they don't have someone that can put him back together? That'd mean that we let him back out into the world, with all our faces swimming in his head. Do you really think someone like him would just let bygones be bygones?"

It crept higher and higher until it hung just as precariously close to his skull as Passeri's needle had to his daughter's. The only thing that prevented its plunge was that Dagger reached him first.

The flash of silver snapped Passeri out of whatever trance had possessed her, and she shot the woman an undefinable look.

The stake still hung in the air.

Hungry.

"Sorry." She dismissed the projection and pulled away from Ezra's grasp. "You didn't deserve that. You're right. About Jennifer. Do whatever you want."

She flexed her hand. Even bereft of a victim, she could still feel it brim with killing intent. Her pinky wanted to pierce his heart. The middle yelled to cut him in two. Her palm had been the one to call the stake. Her ring finger was quiet. It had wanted to open his throat.

"But not tonight. I need to... Clean up." To collect her thoughts. "Can you and Elias take care of her for me? Take her somewhere that isn't covered in this fucker's blood, please." Even if he'd betrayed her as he had, Jacob Weber had still been Jennifer's father. She didn't need to see his mutilated corpse.

"Dagger, can you help me take care of this? There's an incinerator in the back lot." It was one of the reasons why she'd picked this store over all the others. "We can burn him tonight, and then deal with whatever's left in the morning. I'd like to talk afterward, too, if you aren't busy."

Whatever other options there were, Passeri dismissed them before they came.

Jacob Weber did not deserve a grave.

 
Last edited:
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Dissonant Ichors
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1: December 21, 2020 -- Dusk
LOCATION:
Alleyway, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Shen, Raph
DISSONANT ICHORS
After only the barest pause, Raph sauntered closer, sizing the fellow before him up like a meal.

“Now why would I do that?" Raph smiled crookedly, cocking his head to one side to get a better look at the wriggling slab of meat before him. The terror in his eyes, the quiver in his voice—it was all too amusing. He sidled closer, drawing his face up until it was bare inches away from the other boy's, too close for anyone's comfort... But Raph wasn't just anyone. Not anymore.

After a few hot breaths, eyes wide and unblinking as he stared, holding the other's frightened gaze with his own, Raph retreated, if only to take in the whole scene again. But not before he lurched at the other's face, teeth snapping the air like a piranha's. “Ha! That's two for flinching. ~"

The sounds of the ensuing chaos around them fell away. Raph thumbed his lower lip, brows furrowing in consternation, as though suddenly deep in thought. When he was finished, apparently reaching some unspoken conclusion, Raph shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his back to the man where he hung, casting his gaze out over the night of terror unfolding around them. “You know, it's absolute bedlam out there. You could scream for hours, and no-one would come-to-save-you. ~" Raph said in a kind of sing-song-y voice.

Wasn't that a delicious thought?

 
Last edited:
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 was visibly confused by Ashley's words, wasn't he asking the rookie to give him a hand on getting pain train running? At least that's how he remembered his friend's ability to function...Lastly, he fully discerned Ashley's previous intent. "...Oh, I get it now!" Charlie's fist lightly hit downwards at his palm as as his face lit up with realization, his eyes now resembling a pair of simplistic white ovals as he nodded.

Regardless of what Ashley's real question might've been, Charlie's method was effective all the same, as the rowdy red charged forward with a strike of his own, a smile creeping up on the brutal blue as he put up his guard against the incoming attack, aligning his staff with the baton's trajectory.

How unfortunate that Ashley was knowledgeable on Charlie's fighting style, both his strengths and weaknesses, the latter being, among other things, his less-than-ideal alacrity. Red's foot found its mark, a shock of pain delivered at blue as the limb connected, bruising skin and pushing bone. The shorter one grit his teeth at the damage as the force pushed him back a few feet.

"Heh...I missed this!" He charged forward once more, brushing off the puny tap (lie) and charging forward, twirling and spinning his staff as he closed the gap between the two. He swung his weapon downwards diagonally, aiming at his hips. However, there's two ends to a quarter staff, and thus he gyrated his wrists near contact, thrusting with the other end instead.
@joshuadim WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 

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