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

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VULKEN BECKMAN
SCENE:
Coming In Hot
LOCATION:
YY and Vulken's high school, South District
TIME:
October 9th, 2009
PARTICIPANTS:
Yong-Yut, Lyric, Vulken
CURRENT STAGE:
0
Coming In Hot

The strike to the bleachers prompted Vulken to look at Yong-Yut with a concerned expression. Instead of dwell on it much longer, he decided to chalk it up to stress. But then, she declined his offer to de-stress. With a puzzled look, he pushed the flask back into his pocket.

No booze? He wondered to himself. Laaaame. Guess that’s normal ‘a you, though. Heh…

His face twitched nervously once she narrowed her eyes at him. It was as if she read his thoughts at that exact moment, and she clearly didn’t appreciate the insult. He gulped. Did he accidentally say that shit out loud? Why else would she be lookin’ at him like that?

In an instant, the girl’s arms reached forward– straight for Vulken’s jugular (totally). He flinched as her fingers inched closer and closer to his neck. Shit, he thought, Can this chick actually read fuckin’ read minds?

Just before he could raise his hands to protect himself, he quickly found that he wasn’t being attacked. In the blink of an eye, his shirt was buttoned all the way up.

Oh,” He said, looking down at the formal change to his outfit. “Uhh. Thanks, buddy.



He raised his arms behind his head, awkwardly standing there. The hell was her problem? He’d been yapping it up this whole time, and the closest she’d gotten to saying something was shaking her head no to his graceful offering. He supposed he shouldn’t be so surprised, as she was typically like this, but at a school dance? The fuck was the point of even coming?

...Hey, what’s with–

YY! You look so cute!

Before he could ask his question, Lyric’s voice suplexed his into the ground. He took a second to get a good look at his gangmate’s outfit before allowing her arm around his shoulders– not before sneaking his own hand around her waist. It would probably be smacked away in a few seconds, so it was best to enjoy it while it lasted.

Heh. Heheh. Heh.

‘Course I do,” His idiotic smirk resurfaced, eyes trailing behind him to glance at Yong-Yut. “Yogurt over here helped me out, though. I gotta look good when I know a doll like you’s gonna be around.

The flask made yet another appearance, this time being offered to the blonde.

How the hell didja manage ‘ta sneak in? I ain’t gonna lie, half ‘a me thought you were fuckin’ around when you said you were comin’.” He shuffled out of the way so that Yong-Yut was back in his peripheral, risky hand remaining around Lyric’s waist.

You have anythin’ ‘ta do with this? Didn’t know you were capable of breakin’ rules, homework hoarder.

gxxberkit gxxberkit BriiAngelic BriiAngelic

[ Art by gxxberkit gxxberkit ]
 
Cerberus (Eyes)
SCENE:
I'm not sayin' all that~
WHEN:
Pre-arc 3 or whatever || May 6th, y'already know the year
WHERE:
West dis; DVD Rental Thing
DANTE'S BUDDIES:
Meatbag ( thebigfella thebigfella ) , Min-Min ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
RETURNING BACK SOMETHING YOU DON'T OWN IS BASICALLY CHILDBIRTH

She watched. She liked watching, playing spectator.

Who doesn’t like watching?

The hound watched them from the shadows with drawn, flared lips, a wide grin stretching the ends of her mouth all the way up to her eyes— flashing pure milk-white glee on her fangs. Dante usually had this look in his eye when shit like this happened, when there was a shit tasting defeat punching him across the face. All bitter lacking sweet. Almost like he were only half-angry, and half-complacent.

She spoke poignance, and fluently at that; it was easy to tell when he wanted to crawl out of his skin. She was inside his skin 24/7 after all. Like a devil’s malice, gloating in his feels— feeling the creases on his face when he narrowed those inky eyes, and they swell with a golden tinge. Shifting like one of those toy-set color shifters on hot water; she missed those toy cars Dante had back then.

He looked down with a frown at the clerk’s nasty expression, followed with a trill of breath, a hitch, wreathing zephyr. A stifled grunt, feathered annoyance, purposefully. He was angry as all fuck, but didn’t want to be an asshole to the nice store clerk lady. He was one of the only usuals in this place.

She heard the thought bouncing around inside his skull — “What if they ban me over this shit…?” — And her smile only widened.

Yet, she knew there was something else that would make that smile overtake her whole face if it didn’t get there too late. She knew he was always right on clock, or at least one of him was, she didn’t know about the original.

A blood-red eyeball popped out of Dante’s right shoulder, hidden under shade— darting around the premises. Once something caught its fixation, and she heard the indistinguishable sound of rubber against pavement creeping up, Cerb cackled.

She envisioned a dramatic scratch, then the kick-flip of a vinyl, followed by a—

SMASH CUT!

He was here, in all his dazzling glory. And he was getting to work right off the bat, as if the awkward performance of a method actor running on two strenuous hours of shut eye. All three heads turned to Minato as he called out, a hidden fourth one watching his old twelve-step (sometimes sixteen, very rarely 21) formula with a wide grin — “Ke-heh~! He still has zero game, huh…?”

Truly, he was a sore for clear eyes.

“You’re a treasure, eyeballs. Y’know that?”

“Hmmm~?”
— She rolled over inside his mind, smile growing wider — “A national treasure?”

He was right, she’d bowled herself a split with this one.

“Yeah, national.” Whatever would he do without her?

“That’s a true and blue Amestrian fuckin’ hero right there…” — Dante answered Tak, whispering as he began to scuttle away from the clerk — “Just follow me and don’t do nothing stupid…”

Dante pinched an index and a thumb into a loop, flashed that O.K sign over the clerk’s shoulder, beaming it proud at Minato as he dragged Tak away, yanking him by the collar of his tracksuit — “We tried, I guess…” — Dante sighed a reluctant one, hands going straight to pockets. She didn’t know he had a method actor in him too. Maybe him and Minato were foster brothers for good reason…

“Have a good one, greenie. Sorry for fucking up your night…Yell if this weirdo tries to touch you or somethin’, we’ll probably hear it.” — He began walking, not even sparing her a final glance. A hand came up over his shoulder for a lazy wave — “Bye then.”

“And y’all better have the original man-spider trilogy on those fucking shelves when I come back next week, I know you have it eating up dust on the back.”
— A final jab to sour her day a bit more; he knew they weren’t getting any more customers other than him, Tak and a hand-count of other assholes dumb enough to not pirate their oldies.

He could be as much of an asshole as she was, he was willingly sinking his money into her workplace for the sake of satisfying his 80’s to 90’s nostalgia.

Cerberus, unlike Tak and Dante, wasn’t done with the store clerk whatsoever. See, Minato wasn’t there to look pretty and court good— not that there was any hope of that in the first place— he was there to be annoying enough for the poor woman not to notice the idle claws deep-pocketing her pockets.

It only took a second, as Minato was likely on the fifth-step of his secret technique, a tall shadow crept up behind the store clerk— and, motioning as if a flasher losing the trench-coat, Cerberus outstretched her arms with a sadistic smile. A third, a fourth, and a fifth pair of black limbs shot out swiftly from her chest.

Hands going through purse, pockets, neck— quite literally, being robbed blind by your own shadow— she would’ve barely felt it like a light breeze caressing her. Smooth, downright criminal; her handywork didn’t stop until the tip of a claw landed on a metal- clink…!

Her head veered over the clerk’s shoulder, flashing Minato a big toothy grin — “Jackpot…”

The hands retracted, Cerb went back on all fours but not before she blew the black-yellow haired man a ‘Mwah~!’ — The hound vanished without a trace. Minato was left to ‘work his magic’.



“Far enough away…” — Dante sighed, letting go of Tak’s tracksuit. He’d dragged them all the way over an alleyway, just a corner-round next to Blast-Off’s, yet far enough away for the damned clerk to believe that they’d gone home.

“I’d have a billion-dollar tiger on their hands and knees payin’ me six digits for a service this good, y’know? Asshat…” — Dante pressed a restless thumb on his temple, huffing a controlled, yet annoyed breath. He was already feeling the headache of having Cerb out this long beginning to split his head open — “Be thankful I ain’t looking to pay those late fees either, you would’ve been finished without me.”

Dante mustered a cocky grin through his sore head to beam it down at Tak, glancing over his shoulder at the shadows lengthening just behind. Before Tak could even form a word to ask just exactly what the hell Dante’d done, something boomed in their minds. A shadow stepped out the moonslivers, vantablack fur and big red eyes all over her form.

“Look what momma’s got herself, boys~” — An extra limb shot out from her maw, a hand outstretched and twisting to shape. The palm downturned, clawed fingers hung, and from one of them she dangled a perfect, one-to-one copy of the keys right before their faces. As if molded into the finger itself — “Y’ready to return this DVD or what?”

“Huh? Not the keys themselves?” — Dante was the first one to step up, looking up and down at the dark keys she’d molded for them — “You just like making it more complicated than it should be don’t you?”

“Duh.” — She rolled her eyes, all of them — “Can’t just take ta’ damn keys off the chick. She’d ‘ave noticed if I did it that way. She was already closin’ up, dummy.”

“Hmm…” — Dante pondered

“I guess so…”


 
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YONG-YUT SOMSRI
SCENE:
Coming In Hot
TIME:
October 9th 2009
LOCATION:
YY and Vulken's high school, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lyric, Vulken, YY
Coming In Hot
The two of them stood there in silence for a few moments as they waited for the other to speak. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Usually he couldn’t stop talking. What was his problem? She was starting to sweat. He didn’t have to stare at her. Why was he staring? Say something! Anything!

No! No no no no. No. The more silence, the better.

That didn’t last long, however, as blonde hair caught the corner of Yong-Yut’s eye. She huffed, inching a few paces to the side so she was behind Vulken.

Affront to mankind.

She looked nice, at least. Good for her. Much better than him.

Crossing her arms, she looked away from both of them. Maybe if they got into a conversation with each other, Yong-Yut could escape to the other side of the gym. Not too hard to do when she never dignified either of them with a response, anyway; the only people they’d have to talk to would have to be each other.

That’s what she hoped, at least. She found herself to be wrong, though, as Vulken had found a way to address Yong-Yut anyway.

Yogurt…

She stared at him, burning holes into his face. Yogurt.



She scoffed! And it was quickly accompanied by a shake of her head. Who did he think she was!? She didn’t even know Lyric was coming, not to mention she would never want her to come in the first place.

She had to get away from them now. She couldn’t just cut to the other side of the gym at the moment, though. Maybe…

Upwards. Walking off to the side, she found the metal steps of the bleachers and hoisted herself up. Once she got up there, she took a few steps to the side and sat down on the edge.

Sure, they could just follow her… but she hoped they’d just take the hint. Wishful thinking…




BriiAngelic BriiAngelic Nobody Special Nobody Special
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
CS Link
SCENE:
To Live in the Shadows
TIME:
Afternoon, Pre-Arc 1, June 11th 2020
LOCATION:
Nameless Warehouse, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Helva
To Live in the Shadows
The rampaging hazard-throwing came to an end eventually, a tired Charlie coming to begrudgingly accept that his stunt simply wasn't going to work. Landing even a single projectile onto a pair of moving targets blindly, while they themselves were clearly more accustomed to the darkness of the warehouse than himself. His conclusion found itself quickly supported by the voice of Revenant echoing from the vicnity. A speech that teetered the line between a lesson, an encouragement, and even a threat.

Her final words grabbed onto his attention the most. Was she really going to fight on her own again? What was the point of her purple-haired companion joining the fray all of a sudden, then? Was it really just a case of hit and run? The reasoning behind it alluded Charlie. In fact, generally speaking, Revenants behavior and actions left him confused, unable to see through their cryptic nature and into their true intent.

Still standing in place, his feet firmly planted on the ground. Charlie took in the silence and tranquility the warehouse was now presenting him with, both calming and terrifying at the same time. He stood in a personal limbo between keeping his guard up against any incoming attacks, and his body impulsively relaxing from the previous struggles.

Then, as if time suddenly started to run at a slower pace, a low, almost inhuman growl traveled through the darkness and into the young man's eardrums. The unprecedented auditory stimuli sending chills running down his spine. The sensation was given little time to linger, however, with a pitch-black silhouette tackling and pinning Charlie down, catching him mostly off-guard as a barrage of slashes came his way. "GUH!" He raised his arms without much thought, aiming to block the assailant's eviscerating appendages. His eyes opened wide from the instant shock, as waves of pain came over him, with the sharp claws managing to cut into his skin and flesh. Shallow, crimson gashes grew in number on his arms and shoulders with each passing second.

Fighting through the pain, Charlie managed to slowly shift his body in such a way that a larger gap was made between himself and the creature above him, just wide enough for his legs to curl up, the soles of his feet finding their way right before the creature of darkness' stomach. With a strong forward motion, he kicked at the belly of who he presumed to be Revenant, pushing him away from him.

He made his recovery, quickly pushing himself up and away from the floor. Now staring at the ominous figure, Charlie raised his guard once more, before turning to his backand grabbing a hold of a very large container crate. Launching it forward at this current enemy, whoever that might even be.


Peckinou Peckinou
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
All Eyes On Me
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Craig Stevens' Estate
PARTICIPANTS:
Kiwi, Passeri, Hiachi, NPCS
All Eyes On Me
Even this many years on, Passeri still had a nose for the class divide. Anybody could work their way up in the world but not just anybody could say a word like crudités, and proclaim that they weren't serving up anything fancy. Especially right after prattling on about their interior decorator. That was the reservation of the top of the top, the havers who had never had-not.

She couldn't relate, but she could take notes for whenever she next needed to put on a show like this herself. Smarmy. Presumptuous. Pushy. She jotted a few adjectives down in her head for whenever she next needed to play the role of spoiled princess.

"Likewise! Big fan!" She wasn't. "I try to catch an episode whenever I've got time~" She didn't. "Though, lately, that's been tougher and tougher." That much, at least, was true. Ever since the earthquake, she'd been juggling so many balls that she'd lost count. Even if she wasn't a total workaholic, Passeri doubted that she'd have had the time to sit down and watch anything she actually enjoyed, let alone some trashy talk show.

"If your son's a fan, why not have him join us?" Passeri slid into a lounge chair adjacent to the tacky, mustard-yellow couch that Craig had made into his throne. She was willing to do a lot for Kiwi, but evidently, having her crusty uncle's arms draped over her shoulder was not one of them.

"I love meeting fans!" And more importantly, if he wasn't in his room then there wouldn't be anybody up there to catch HIachi off-guard. "And I'm sure one of yours is packed with good ideas, right? It's important to let fresh minds contribute to fresh things. If old crones like you and I are doing all of the thinking, then everything's going to get stale awfully quickly, you know."

It wasn't total drivel, what Passeri was saying, but she didn't feel particularly strongly about it either way. What she did feel strongly about was the fact that she did not enjoy shaking this man's hand. She added 'Sweaty' to the list of adjectives she was compiling in the back of her head.

She spent another moment crunching his words and mannerisms. The ritzy glint in his eye.

Maybe 'Slimy' was a good fit, too.

 
PEYTON XIONG
LOCATION:
Peyton's Old Apartment, East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || Two Weeks Later
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Jackson

CRASH AND BURN
Jackson was right. Peyton didn't care much about his own life. As long as nobody took it, Peyton was content with being used like a tool for a friend's benefit. But Peyton knew it wasn't quite like that in this case. The reason why he had left the Dragons was because Peyton had to choose between letting a friend or regretting his inaction forever. And it just so happened that the 'friend' didn't think highly of Peyton. No, in this case, Peyton didn't just not mind getting threatened, he wanted to be threatened.

But that didn't change how unrelenting Peyton was in his current course of action. This wasn't going to be like Raph when Peyton had left the Serpents. He was going to make sure things went right this time.

"Yeah, I'll make time, that's a promise," Peyton's voice, through the somberness and sadness, was full of unrelenting resolve, "Even if it's so dangerous that I can't even visit, I'll make sure that we stay in touch."

Peyton winced in pain as the constant pressure of Jackson's fingernails finally started to really dig in. He shifted around in discomfort, but he didn't break free from Jackson's grasp. This was really an unusual scenario for Peyton. Getting berated at yet being unable to enjoy it.

"You really can't come and visit? I promise that we can just hang out at my place and play some video games," Peyton pleaded. A thought suddenly popped up in his mind, and Peyton immediately spoke up, "We can also even go outside New Oasis! There are some pretty cool places nearby where the gangs won't be involved. I really really wanna stay as friends, Jackson, even if we are in different gangs."

It was evident that Peyton's ideas were not particularly thought out. After all, Peyton wasn't usually capable of self-reflection and deep thinking.

Peyton tightened his hug on Jackson. His face was practically buried in Jackson's shirt, and Peyton had to tilt his head slightly so that his words wouldn't get muffled. He felt Jackson's spindly frame and the subtle way that it shook with Jackson's anger and tears. Would this be the last time that he would get to embrace his friend?

No. No, absolutely not. Peyton didn't want it to end like this.


BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
Cold Water, Hot Blood, Warm Bile
LOCATION:
West District, Splash Space Park
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || June 21st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Deirest ( The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit ), Pei
Cold Water, Hot Blood, Warm Bile

Giant, colorful slides built up high, twisted, and twirled back down to the ground. The sounds of excitement bubbled in the air. Crowds linked together, swimsuits and swim trunks adorned on soaked bodies. Parents ushered their kids along, fingers pointed up the stairs that led up the long lines toward the top of the massive slides.

Muffled screams echoed through a green tube, twisting and turning, until they finally reached the outside, quickly mingling with the rest of the excited shouting and splashing. A woman shot out of the slide like a bullet, a sharp splash in the water that rocketed across everyone nearby, erupting and screaming and giggling.

The positivity and joy that lingered through such an atmosphere was waiting for a tragedy, was it not?

Amongst the swarms of people within the pool, nobody noticed as a body floated to the surface, arms dangling below the water. Gasps turned into screams, and quickly, a stampede formed, people running out of the pool in a swarm.

“B-Body! It’s a body!”

“Someone call a doctor! The police!”


Cries for help barely peered through the ensuing chaos. Two men dressed in red dared to brave the storm. They weaved through the crowd, running to the pool’s edge to dive in, swimming to grab the woman floating across the pool like a stray leaf. They dragged her to land, using their arms to hoist her up to the side of the pool.

One of the lifeguards placed fingers on their neck, another on her wrist. There was no pulse; her body was still barely warm. Quickly, he sprung into action, doing what he was trained to do. “Get emergency services!” He ordered his associate, the other man already having his phone in hand.

Chest compressions, hands firm, attempts to pump blood back into the brain. Then, with a pinch of her nose, she prepared to give mouth-to-mouth. His head dived downward to--”GUAGH! HER BREATH STINKS!”

Immediately, he retched, head reeling backward as he brought a hand up to clasp his throat in an attempt to keep himself from entirely throwing up. The smell of unwashed teeth and stomach acid sizzled in his sinuses as tears formed in his eyes. For a moment, he was left questioning his life choices, all the training that had led him to this point emptying from his mind. He grit his teeth, prepared to grin and bear it.

“Kekekekek. Looks like you guys are having trouble.”

Just as the lifeguard prepared to make another attempt at trying CPR, lips hovering inches away, his eyes bulged open as he spotted where the voice came from. A shark fin was placed on top of a set of blonde hair with matching jagged teeth. Goggles and snorkels on his face as only his neck floated above the water’s surface. Despite everyone else vacating the pool with the appearance of a corpse, he had decided to take free real estate, his sharp-toothed smile gleaning under the sun.

“Don’t worry. I know a doctor! Kekekekek!” He exclaimed, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of the pool and hoist himself upward. Water dripped off his lanky frame, the lack of definition in his muscles going down to his grenade and knife-patterned swim trunks and past to his legs.

“Y-You do!? Are they nearby!?” The lifeguard blustered out, moving his face away from the woman’s with hope in his eyes that he wouldn’t have to be the one to give her CPR.

The snaggly-tooth blonde grinned in response, a point over his shoulder, “Yeah. She’s right over there.”

Both the lifeguards’ heads turned to peer around the man’s legs to see who exactly he was talking about, and immediately, their expressions turned dour, eyes sinking into their sockets.

“Q-Bot! Stay with me!” Lala held Q-Bot in her arms; the robotic dunce was soaked head to toe; sparks came from his mouth as it hung open, his mechanics twitching as his voice came out like a static stuttering mess.

“I-I forg-for-f-orgot I’m not w-w-w-waterproof!” He screamed out his grim realization, hand reaching towards the sun before his pupils faded into whites, the sounds of him powering off as his body went limp.

“Q-BOOOOOOOOOT!”

Meanwhile, Bushineko floated across the pool in the background, relaxing on a pool float as he wore sunglasses and held a drink between his paws, taking a long sip from the pink curly straw.

“He just needs to dry off-zarunyan,” he said as he floated off-screen.

“Oi! Mosquito!” Pei’s voice quickly came with a hand reaching down to pull her up by her wings, leaving Q-Bot to clatter against the ground and roll like a can. Lala immediately clutched her syringe in fear as she was brought up face to face with her slave master, leaning in close with that malicious smile of his.

“Forget about that piece of junk! I have another patient for you! Kekekekek!” He cackled, his words causing the tiny doctor to relax slightly, a different type of worry painting her expression as Pei pointed over the corpse still lying on the ground.

“Oh, my stars!” Lala shouted, and when Pei let her wings go, she quickly flew over to land beside the woman. The lifeguards were only left dumbfounded, left to lean over the tiny doctor and watch her work.

She pulled out her tiny stethoscope and placed it on the woman’s chest. She waited but heard nothing; terror started to creep up on her expression…but it was soon replaced by puzzlement as slowly, beat by beat, blood began to pump again…

Pei noticed the look on the fairy’s face before she had to say anything; his hands placed themselves onto his hips, and his grin grew wider.

“Kekekekek. Looks like I’ll be able to get some fun out of today after all.”

 
PEYTON XIONG
SCENE:
Meet and Grit
LOCATION:
The Third Eye, Central District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || Morning of July 8th
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Keith

MEET AND GRIT
"No!" Peyton said brightly in response to Keith's demands, "They look so cool, you really should show them off more!"

It seemed rather weird to Peyton that Keith would be so apprehensive about showing his hands. Peyton's eyes and the golden tips and strands of his hair were a product of his Potential, and he had always been proud of them. They just had a flair about them that made Peyton feel more confident about himself-- ever since he developed them, he hadn't felt the need to stylize his hair nor wear colored eye contacts.

With Keith kneeling down like that, Peyton for once stood taller than him. So after pocketing Keith's gloves, Peyton had to squat down to get at Keith's level. He leaned in close so that nobody else would be able to peek in at what he was doing.

Peyton was forceful yet gentle as he pulled Keith's clammy hands out of the folds of his clothes, and traced Keith's hands with Peyton's fingers. He noted the unusual texture of the skin and ran his fingers along the edge of Keith's dangerously sharp fingers. Peyton practically glowed with wonder as he said in a mesmerized tone, "Wicked...!"

As the line moved on, Peyton waddled forward, careful to make sure that he was blocking the way of any bystanders from seeing Keith's arms as he thoroughly inspected them.

"Don't poke me or anything right now," Peyton joked, "Or I might scream!"
Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Dagger
SCENE:
Bones
LOCATION:
Central Outskirts
DATE:
April 29, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Dagger
Bones


Burning. Soot, ash, and flesh. The screaming, the shouting. The crackle of flames and the radio as the last voices of her father died with the raging inferno erupting in the horizon. The cries of her partner, her hands desperately clawing at her shoulder, grasping, pulling at her, trying to drag her away from the epicenter. An exercise in futility.

She shot up. Cold sweat, like ice, fell from her forehead. Her breath ragged, torn, like her fatigues on that day. The years had only laden upon her louder and louder voices, more and more cries for help, for her to have saved them, for her to have done something. Many like her have fallen to the bottom of a bottle, seeking peace in the pits of inebriation. Not her. This was her penance. This was her duty for them. She would bear the weight. This was her punishment.

Her phone buzzed. A distraction. She grasped at it, and fiddled with the screen. A call in the middle of the night was probably some emergency wetworks. She looked out the window and towards where Weiss's tower stood. It was unharmed this time. Probably not him, then. She straightened herself up, and answered the call.


It took her a fair few minutes to arrive on her bike. When she did, she thought that it had been quite cruel to leave the woman standing by a corpse for an extended period of time. She had sounded like she was going to cry over the phone, and now, standing in front of her, she looked exactly like how she sounded. Not used to seeing dead bodies. Thankfully, for her, this white wolf was more than accustomed to seeing the lifeless.

She nodded to her client as she made her way over to the car wordlessly and opened up the trunk. The smell of death flooded out, but she barely recoiled. She reached in, placing her fingers on the man's neck. Cold. Dead for a while now. No pulse. Chest not moving. No breath. Still, with the existence of Potentials here in New Oasis, she couldn't mark it as properly dead just yet. There was always one test she liked to administer.

“So how do you want to do this.” Her tone had been as if it were less of a question, and more of statement. “There are multiple options. Burn it, bury it, melt it, toss it in a body of water somewhere.” She leaned over the body and, with a gloved hand, pulled open the eyelids. Unresponsive. With the other, she drew out her knife. “Burying it and tossing it overboard are the fastest and probably the easiest ways to do it, however–” she brought the knife down into the body's chest, where the heart would be, and wrenched it, producing a sickening, wet sound of muscles and skin tearing from the force. The small amount of blood that the wound produced indicated the truth of whether it was a pretense or not. Either way, with a knife through its heart, she would have accomplished the same thing. “However, the body would probably surface sometime down the line. Burning, melting, mulching, crushing, destroying the body, that ensures they're not coming back.” She stood up straight, pulling her knife out, wiping the blade on the body’s clothes, and tucked it back in its sheathe. “What’s the call, boss?” She looked at the other woman expectantly, then at the car. She held up a hand to cut off the woman before she could speak. “Hold that thought. This your car?”

 
Kisara McDowell
SCENE:
The Frog in the Well
LOCATION:
North District | Collapsed Worksite
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 22nd
PARTICIPANTS:
Rem, Kisara, Deirest | Melody, Anguo, Areith
The Frog in the Well
The environments did not surprise her at all. It still made her regret eating before coming. She could feel the contents of her stomach rise up to her throat, desperately trying to escape. She choked it back down, and started to sweep her light source across the basement. Or, at least, what she could describe as a basement. Bones, gore, trash, all kinds of refuse had made their way down here, lost and forgotten.

Another rush of burning digestive juices hit her throat as she turned to the right.

There. Oh God, it was worse than she had thought it would be. It had retained the shape of a head, that was what made it recognisable in the first place. The unruly mop of brown hair, covered in detritus and debris from having been chucked into the refuse framed its features. If eyes were the window to the soul, then no one was home. Dried blood ringed the stump of a neck, with the same dirty crimson dressing caking the corner of its mouth. She retched. Whoever had done this had not been clean. She gently reached down to pick up the head.

Ew. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. The skin was still soft to the touch. Like a wet, partially deflated football. One that had rolled through trash juice. Even if her heart had hardened and resolved itself to power and strength, her stomach still remained weak. Think happy thoughts. Think of rainbows and green grass and blue skies and unicorns gallivanting across the fields. She held the head up in front of her, unsure of how she would transport such a find. She quickly regretted the decision and lowered it from her view before the next wave of bile needed to be swallowed down again.

“I found it.” She could barely keep the wavering out of her voice. She hoisted herself back up to the first floor with one hand, clutching onto the head by its hair as if she was holding onto a basket full of stinking, expired groceries. She wanted to be rid of the thing as soon as possible. She wanted to just toss it over to the girl who had accompanied her here. That would mean she was too weak to do a simple job. She didn't want to look like that in front of the others present now.

She approached the body slowly and, still trying to avert her eyes from the gaping stump, placed the head on top of its neck where it belonged.



@BluEndings The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit @miki thebigfella thebigfella
gxxberkit gxxberkit
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
City of Prying Eyes
TIME:
December 14th, 2021 | Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Breakfast Restaurant Patio, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kiwi, Passeri
City of Prying Eyes
"Of course." It was the least that she could do. "Truth be told, I already had an idea about all of this... I'd gathered that she'd taken out some money from one of ours, and when I couldn't track her down after that, well... Two points make a line, right? The question just came down to who was involved and where they'd taken her."

And now she'd figured out at least one of those, she could finally set things in motion. It had been Lisette's decision to go to the Tigers, but it'd been her fault that she'd been pushed to that point in the first place. There was so much that she could have done to stop it, and yet she'd been satisfied to just forget. To push her and Ariel to the back of her mind and continue on.

"I've already got someone in mind for the job, actually... It'll just be a matter of when, now." For a brief moment, Passeri considered just how much information she should've been sharing with the shorter woman, but considering who she worked for, she had a feeling that it was hardly going to matter either way. Whether you were forthcoming or not, all of your dirtiest little secrets always managed to find themselves jotted down on the pages of Akira's notebook.

"If everything goes according to plan, it'll be no more than a week." She'd kept her waiting long enough. It'd been years since they'd last met. "I'll put her up somewhere while I sort things out after that, and then hopefully she'll be a free woman within a few months."

That was the plan at least. One that she'd been so engrossed in sharing that she hadn't noticed the creeping figure, just beyond the cafe's terrace.

A flash of white washed across her features, yanking her attention back into her surroundings.

"Miss Park!" An eager, nasally voice harped from behind a camera's lens just as Passeri's head snapped to face it, and then another flash washed over the cafe. "Is this a friend of yours? Could you make a comment for the Weekly Rocket?"

Another flash.

"Is there a reason why you're meeting? What're you having for lunch today? Do you have any comments about your relationship with Dimitri Bellari? What's the hot and steamy?"

Passeri cringed. This was why she never did things like these in public.

"Sorry about this." She addressed Kiwi, and stood from her seat. "I've gotta run, okay? Thanks again."

The camera kept flashing as she stepped away from the table. Normally, she would've just avoided somebody like this, but he already had her photo. She'd give him a story, or he'd make one up himself.

"Just coffee, actually!" Her smile immediately turned dazzling as she turned to the reporter. "Bit of girl talk over a hot drink, you know?"

She braced herself. It was time to say goodbye to the rest of her morning.

 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
East District; Dragon HQ
TIME:
Pre-Outbreak || July 1st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Llyod ( Jexon Whells Jexon Whells ), Yona ( CasualTea CasualTea ), Jackson
Agonizing Bonechill
<- Remember

Zealous hatred for serpents was something he both understood, agreed with, and hated all in the same fucked up concoction of emotions. But he was here now and two weeks wasn’t quite enough to muddle through the emotions he’d been stewing on. He had to shake that shit off though. He and Lloyd had always been at the same wavelength before and he wasn’t going to let Pengfei’s stupidity create an issue with his friend’s safety.

The mansion hadn’t exactly been the vacation away that he’d hoped it was to straighten out his thoughts, so a newbie who knew nothing but the dragons and one who lived and breathed kill serpents should do it. It was good that Lloyd was good at leading, it gave him the room to breathe and empty his thoughts.

“Yona if I can’t see you then you may be in danger of getting caught up in a wave if there’s too many on me. If things get messy move back not in, got it?”

He stressed the words with the greatest importance. The closer someone was to him the worse it hurt. At the end of the day he was there to knock down numbers, being surrounded was something he could always expect to happen eventually.

For a moment he wondered if he should just make it known that he’d had some inclination on her power but the tightlipped nature she kept made him wonder if she might have low control on it. Or perhaps they just had to ask? He couldn’t tell if she was shy or quiet. He circled the car to pick his weapon up from the trunk and stared her down for a moment. Yeah, he might as well ask.

“So how much control do you have over your potential? Do you use it when fighting?”

 
Lloyd Sorvocah
TIME:
Pre- Outbreak: 2022, July 1st
SCENE:
Agonizing Bonechill
LOCATION:
Littleleaf, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson BriiAngelic BriiAngelic , Yona CasualTea CasualTea , Lloyd (Me)
Agonizing Bonechill
Lloyd was watching Yona, who abruptly halted her step, seeming to immediately want to go on ahead already. When it came to doing the job, she definitely does not seem to have any sort of rookie mindset so far. But at least she was still listening to him. If she were to go off on her own, with disregard of her team, who knows how badly things could turn out? Well, best not to wander on that thought. Instead, let's make sure they kill those Serpents seize their contraband.

Lloyd takes point, as per usual. He walks past the truck and onto the loading bay, slowly opening the shutter door to be as quiet as possible and look inside the building. When he sees no one, he opens the door all the way up, and turns around after. "Yona, please use your sword to slash one of the tires of their truck. That way they are less likely to use it to escape, if they somehow get the chance. Just one tire, though. After this job is done, the truck may be turned into a Azure Dragon asset. The less damage it has sustained, the more profitable it is."

He then steps inside the building quietly, scanning for any possible lookouts, though there appear to be none. "According to our intel, this building has a trap door that leads to the underground infrastructure that these Serpents are using to get their drugs here. Where exactly is unknown, so we will have to look around a bit. Once we find it, we will descend into the tunnels, track down the Serpents, and end them. After that is all done and everything is secure, we will call it in and make our report. If there aren't any questions, start looking around for the trapdoor."
 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
East District; Dragon HQ
TIME:
Pre-Outbreak || July 1st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Llyod ( Jexon Whells Jexon Whells ), Yona ( CasualTea CasualTea ), Jackson
Agonizing Bonechill
<- Remember

Zealous hatred for serpents was something he both understood, agreed with, and hated all in the same fucked up concoction of emotions. But he was here now and two weeks wasn’t quite enough to muddle through the emotions he’d been stewing on. He had to shake that shit off though. He and Lloyd had always been at the same wavelength before and he wasn’t going to let Pengfei’s stupidity create an issue with his friend’s safety.

The mansion hadn’t exactly been the vacation away that he’d hoped it was to straighten out his thoughts, so a newbie who knew nothing but the dragons and one who lived and breathed kill serpents should do it. It was good that Lloyd was good at leading, it gave him the room to breathe and empty his thoughts.

“Yona if I can’t see you then you may be in danger of getting caught up in a wave if there’s too many on me. If things get messy move back not in, got it?”

He stressed the words with the greatest importance. The closer someone was to him the worse it hurt. At the end of the day he was there to knock down numbers, being surrounded was something he could always expect to happen eventually.

For a moment he wondered if he should just make it known that he’d had some inclination on her power but the tightlipped nature she kept made him wonder if she might have low control on it. Or perhaps they just had to ask? He couldn’t tell if she was shy or quiet. He circled the car to pick his weapon up from the trunk and stared her down for a moment. Yeah, he might as well ask.

“So how much control do you have over your potential? Do you use it when fighting?”

Lloyd Sorvocah
TIME:
Pre- Outbreak: 2022, July 1st
SCENE:
Agonizing Bonechill
LOCATION:
Littleleaf, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson BriiAngelic BriiAngelic , Yona CasualTea CasualTea , Lloyd (Me)
Agonizing Bonechill
Lloyd was watching Yona, who abruptly halted her step, seeming to immediately want to go on ahead already. When it came to doing the job, she definitely does not seem to have any sort of rookie mindset so far. But at least she was still listening to him. If she were to go off on her own, with disregard of her team, who knows how badly things could turn out? Well, best not to wander on that thought. Instead, let's make sure they kill those Serpents seize their contraband.

Lloyd takes point, as per usual. He walks past the truck and onto the loading bay, slowly opening the shutter door to be as quiet as possible and look inside the building. When he sees no one, he opens the door all the way up, and turns around after. "Yona, please use your sword to slash one of the tires of their truck. That way they are less likely to use it to escape, if they somehow get the chance. Just one tire, though. After this job is done, the truck may be turned into a Azure Dragon asset. The less damage it has sustained, the more profitable it is."

He then steps inside the building quietly, scanning for any possible lookouts, though there appear to be none. "According to our intel, this building has a trap door that leads to the underground infrastructure that these Serpents are using to get their drugs here. Where exactly is unknown, so we will have to look around a bit. Once we find it, we will descend into the tunnels, track down the Serpents, and end them. After that is all done and everything is secure, we will call it in and make our report. If there aren't any questions, start looking around for the trapdoor."
Yona Kowloong
TIME:
Pre-Outbreak: July 1st, 2022
SCENE:
Agonizing Bonechill
LOCATION:
Littleleaf, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Lloyd, Yona
Agonizing Bonechill
Once more, she was issued another warning. This time it was from Song. Guessing he was asking her that if things were to get real messy, and it likely will, she was to move back and out of the fray. Not dwell deeper inside it. She simply nodded her again once more in agreement. "Understood." She said briefly before they started making their way to the target site. Following behind Lloyd, leaving Song to prepare and arm himself, she watches as Lloyd inspects the truck. Fortunately, it was vacant.

After he finishes his inspection, he turned to her and delegated a task towards her. "Yona, please use your sword to slash one of the tires of their truck. That way they are less likely to use it to escape, if they somehow get the chance. Just one tire, though. After this job is done, the truck may be turned into a Azure Dragon asset. The less damage it has sustained, the more profitable it is." He instructed. Yona wasted no time to act, offering only a nod before displaying her quick sword movements. Unsheathing it, she whipped it around her hand a little before piercing the tire deeply to cut it right through that the rubber fell completely off the wheel.

All the while, she didn't hear Jackson's question about her familiarity of her potential. Unsheathing it, she rested her sword back in its sheathe as she turned her head to look at Jackson with a quizzical expression. "Oh, pardon?" She said briefly.

Once inside the warehouse, she was told more information about the target area and their next task. Being told they have to look for a trap door, she nodded once more and began her search. However, the most notable feature she displayed was that after her first step, her next few steps became quieter and quieter until there was barely to no sound at all coming from her.

She began searching for every possible place in the warehouse for this trap door. Sometimes its in plain sight, sometimes it's covered by something. Perhaps maybe it's just gaping open in a separate room but an object blocks that doorway to make it seem like it's just a wall. She's uprooted these types of hideouts before back home. She knew all sorts of tricks people would try to cover up entrances. But it's never too late to learn something new, isn't it? Maybe they have a more better method of hiding their traces. Maybe her seniors could discover it faster than she could. While she was being very quiet as to not make any unnecessarily loud footsteps to make them audible from bellow, she was still scanning and sweeping the areas she touched. Sure, she wasn't sure how far down this hole was so her keeping quiet might not matter.

But she knew that she had to be careful. Traps could be lurking about and any noise could make the rats scurry.

 
Vissarion Argyris
SCENE:
Stymied
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 | January, 2020
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian( Coyote Hart Coyote Hart ), Vissa
Stymied
Vissa's face remain unchanged when Sebastian pulled out the blade, threatening the duo. Physical threats were just as effective as threatening to financially ruining someone. If the person you were threatening didn't feel like their life was at stake, you weren't doing it right. Watching them scurry away like rats was amusing to Vissa, turning to Sebastian with a smile. "I'm used to this type of confrontation. People cower away from conflict when it is always inevitable. They decided to poke a tiger who was hungry, that was their first mistake." While a situation like this was certainly stressful, it was something he had to deal with to remain at the top. He didn't get where he was just buy rolling over for every demand.

After letting out a long sigh, he rested his hand on Sebastian's hand, his golden gaze giving him all of his attention. "I hope all of this wasn't too burdensome for you. I hate dragging people into my messes, they are never pretty." Vissa was quite thankful for Sebastian's help. It wasn't everyday that you could find a friend that was willing to stab someone for you. He was confident that he wouldn't hear much from those two and if he did... he would have it dealt with once and for all.

The blonde's eyes shifted back towards the bar, the urge to throw a few drinks down overwhelming him. "Why don't we have a few more drinks after that? Can't let those hooligans ruin our mood. Nothing a few sips of alcohol can't solve." Vissa was looking to quickly move past the interaction. He didn't like to dwell on business dealings, it was one of the only things keeping him sane. Tiger business wasn't clean and he constantly juggled with many of the implications of his lifestyle. It wasn't the most peaceful but it was the best he could do for now.
 
SEBASTIAN SE
CS Link
SCENE:
Of Moose and Murder
LOCATION:
East District, Not Far From the Eternal Night Palace
TIME:
June 18th, 2021 | Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian, Mirza
OF MOOSE AND MURDER
"Oh, good evening Mirza. Yes, I do think that you can help me," Sebastian said with a dark smirk. He remembered that Sebastian was probably one customer in a sea of others, and it registered through a softening of his dark look, "I suppose you wouldn't remember me. My name is Sebastian. I've hired your services in the past."

Sebastian wasn't about those parasocial relationships after all. Brothel work seemed very difficult work, and nobody there could be blamed for not remembering a customer's name. It was like how Sebastian didn't remember all the names of his victims. Their identities, even if Sebastian knew them at some point, fell off to the wayside. Dead people didn't need such things after all.

"Don't worry, I know you're not working at the moment," Sebastian said as he closed the distance between him and Mirza. Despite the fact that Mirza was only an inch shorter than Sebastian, Sebastian still found a way to leer down at him, "I was just wondering... would it be alright to cover you in red? I think the only thing that could be more pretty than you are is if you were dead by my hand."

Sebastian's dark words were laden with molasses, completely matching the depraved smile and look in his eyes. To further accentuate his vibe, Sebastian drew from his clothes a dagger that resembled a very long steak knife-- it was wickedly serrated like one. He pointed it at Mirza, gently tapping his Adam's apple with the tip.

There were many good parts of a murder. The stabbing and the screams were definitely the best, but being able to indulge in chasing a terrified victim or seeing their reactions to the prospect of getting killed were also pretty good. And Sebastian was in the mood today to see his victim's reaction.

WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
Peyton Xiong
LOCATION:
At a Food Truck, North District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 || June 9th, 2017
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Raphael
Carmine Consort
"Heehee, either we both have sensitive tongues or this stuff is just really hot!" Peyton commented. For once, he didn't have to look up in order for him to meet Raph's wine-red eyes. Something about the way that Raph was leaning down seemed awfully demeaning though. Most people that Peyton talked to had to lean down to be level with him. But there was something about the flair of Raph's movements that just felt like he was belittling Peyton.

And Peyton loved it.

Upon Raph's demand for another Takoyaki ball, Peyton eagerly took the toothpick and speared one to give Raph. But apparently, that was too slow. Peyton wasn't sure how he could be faster, but he dipped his head down in repentance and babbled out an apology, "Sorry Raph! I'll do better next time!"

As they walked, Peyton finished eating up the takoyaki. He went up to his tippy toes to feed every other one to Raph. Before long, the paper boat of treats was nothing but an empty shell full of residual sauce and sesame seeds, and Peyton carelessly tossed it to the sidewalk.

"Wow, my clothes are a mess," Peyton said, as if he had just realized the fact that he was covered in blood. The layer of red wasn't the thing that bothered Peyton. It was the colder night air making the blood feel chilly against Peyton's skin. He suspected that it didn't feel all that good for Raphael either. "Wanna stop by my place? It's pretty close to here! We can freshen up and get new clothes!"

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
I Would Like to See Your Permit.


Lorette Lècuyer CS LINK

Scene: I Would Like to See Your Permit.

Time: Nighttime. December 2021. Post-Arc 2.

Location: Lower Central District

Participants: Lorette. Eric.


She watched him pace around slowly. His face was as infuriatingly neutral as it had been from the start. Lorette would have found his calm demeanor in the thick of battle impressive had it not been such an inconvenience to her.

It was evident to her that he sought an opening in her defenses. What few that she had, she didn't want to give away too soon. Lorette wasn't looking forward to being stuck full of arrows again. Despite the benefit that came with being hit by the man's Potential, she was still better off avoiding injury if she could. There was still no telling just how deep his power ran.

Lorette outright snarled at the implication she'd roll over and beg for a can of Tuna before turning her nose up haughtily at the suggestion.

"He knows damn well that he could never afford to buy me dinner."

Lorette kept pace with him, padding along at his side in eerie silence as she watched him. She would not allow herself to be viewed as his prey; her ego demanded it. Once or twice, she paused to cautiously sniff at him. She'd smelled worse before, but a shower would have done him some good.

"He's all sweaty too...I really don't want to touch him...." She grimaced internally.

Touch him, she did, however. Lorette reached out carefully with a giant paw, mindful of her claws, and patted the man awkwardly like a housecat inspecting a new toy. She had to begrudgingly admit that all his quips about her being a cat did have some basis in reality.

She couldn't figure out. The guy was just plain weird. Sure, he was a cop and trying to arrest her, something he'd yet to apologize for. But Lorette had run into her fair share of police officers. It was easy to tell which could be bribed and which were fervent believers of justice. Her opponent seemed to be neither.

"He's dressed pretty casually. He was probably off the clock before this all started."

Lorette was gracious enough to dredge up an ounce of sympathy for him. She couldn't even count the number of times she'd been dead asleep, only to receive a call in the middle of the night. That shit got old real fast.

She stopped her gentle pawing at him and cocked her head. A low rumble sounded in her throat, a noise far less hostile than the ones shed made previously. Lorette's body language remained alert should he move to attack, but her posture was also one of vested interest. She found him curious more than not, and Lorette never denied her own curiosity when it came to people. It hadn't killed her yet, so it seemed to lead her in the right direction.

Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Helva Linxal
SCENE:
To live in the shadows
LOCATION:
Warehouse, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Helva, Zulin, Charlie Roda the Red Roda the Red
To live in the shadows

Revernant felt their claws pierce through the boys skin, none of them were too deep thankfully, though in a real battle scenario, she figured that if she actually wanted to kill him she would have to concentrate a whole lot of pressure into one point, the exact same tactic she used against that smaller gang's leader from yesterday. But she had no intention of doing that, punching, slashing and anything else as long as it didn't involve stabbing was on the table for her. As the boys blood began to coat her shadow claws it didn't take long before he went on to kick her off of him, the power of his kick being strong enough to send her flying off and causing her to impact the wall. The impact was rough, and she slumped towards the ground in order to give herself a moment to recover before rising back up with a low monstrous growl. While the Shadows around her body provided a type of mobile power armor around her, it really didn't do much against blunt damage, a fact of the matter that gave the boy a bit of an advantage in a type of fight like this. Still though this wasn't anything really new to her, stronger opponents and bad potential match-ups, was just another day and another challenge to overcome, just like this fight was going to have to be a challenge for Charlie to overcome.

Revernants eyes went back to focusing in on Charlie who began to recover, getting back up onto his feet in a haste, If there's one thing Helva had to admit is that he maintained his composure better than expected, something that has definitely earned him a few points in her book. Still though the fight would go on, as the two stared at each other for a moment, a low growl could be heard from her, before the boy opted to take a defensive posture and grab a container to throw at her. Revernant didn't waste any time, running towards the wall in order to gain momentum and propel herself over the flying crate, her foot connecting with it for a fleeting moment in order to propel herself forward more. Something that would be hard to impossible to do if it wasn't for the Shadow Armor and the surrounding darkness fueling her, and while dodging to the side was certainly an option she figured it was a move that was too expected, and she had no intention of playing by the boys rules or fighting on their terms, and as she landed on the ground she didn't hesitate before charging forward, her left arm turning into a blade as she winded it back in order to slash at him and force him to back up or block, while allowing her to use her other hand to wind up a punch towards him if he opted to block or a clawed swipe if he opts to dodge.
 
Hyun Moon
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, Dagger, Moon
Be My Guest
His job was fairly simple. Stand by and wait for a signal. He understood what that meant. Soon there would be mayhem. He could feel it. Alas, his face didn't show it. The same pokerface with a frown, as if someone ate the last pizza slice before him. On the inside he was a bit anxious. Could he do it?

No. Could was not good enough. He had to do it. His job was that of a goon. If he could not even achieve that, he shouldn't even have the hope of reaching higher.

The ringing of the phone brought him back to reality. Dagger was kind enough to put it on speaker. Hyun considered she was lowkey a great colleague and superior for doing that. Nonetheless, they had more pressing matters to focus on.

"Understood." As he followed Dagger into the galla, he threw a crystal in the air, manipulating the electricity stored inside it to make a strong light. It would distract others as he'd try to get close to those he needed to protect. Hopefully.


The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit simj26 simj26

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
[Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth]
TIME:
Nighttime, Post Arc 3, June 20th 2020
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Helva, Pei, Red, Corvo, Eleanor
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
"Pei...Pei! Please!"

The world around Charlie had become but an irrelevant blur if dim lights and incoherent shouting. Whatever the others might been arguing about fell on deaf ears, the rookie's arm wrapping behind the dying man, still lifting his body off the ground, his fingers tightly clutching at his red sleeves, the rookie's handkerchief now fully dyed the very same shade as it fruitlessly tried to stop the severe bleeding.

Despite the pleas and cries, Pei's body grew paler and devoid of human vigor, his eyes losing their sheen as life abandoned him completely. Leaving an eerily stiff corpse behind, Pei was no longer.

With harshly gritting teeth, and tears streaming down his cheeks, Charlie gently lowered the body of his friend, the tender swipe of his hand closing the body's eyes, giving it some illusion of peace and finality. Why? Asked the young man to himself, and why indeed, out of a the cold blooded monsters that infested the scarlet phoenixes, why did it have to be Pei to meet an unjustly demise like that? He was certainly a chaotic person, that much was certain, and he certainly didn't have a single respectful bone in his entire body. But no matter what traits he might have shown, Charlie knew the sincerely good man that he was, that ultimately just wanted to have his own fun and didn't bathe his hands in blood to do so, the rookie still remembered the day that Pei extended a helping hand at him a few years ago, back when he was at his lowest, his owned goods being short on the material, and empty on the emotional. Denial had turned into mourning. And soon enough, mourning turned to contempt, his heart beating like a boiling inferno that demanded retribution.

Slow steps, crunching against the hard soil of the undeground surface, took the young man between the elegant woman in the suit, and the dancing wall of darkness. Charlie placed a hand against it, his fingertips trailing down to get a proper feel of its texture. His bangs draped down his face, hiding the amber eyes beneath, blocking any glimpse of his emotions to the outside.

Wordlessly pulling his arm back, Charlie delivered a clean punch at the durable wall of shadows, the entire vicinity trembling strenuosly as his limb tore through the hardened darkness, leaving behind a hole with the diameter of a barrel, which immediately started the process of reconstructing itself. The rookie's hand found itself grasping at Red's clothes, an iron grip that simply refused to let go.

Pulling back, Charlie forcefully dragged the short woman away from her ethereal cage, utterly uncaring if the she had gotten scraped by the rough surface of the regenerating wall. He pulled her up until she was almost at his same height, iridescent amber pearls seeping through the gaps in his hair, making eye contact with her ocean blue irises. Even with the partial view it was easy to tell just how much ire and grudge was lying within his gaze.

"Go ahead, stab me too" His voice was emotionless, noticeably deeper than usual, lacking that recurring brightness. "Try and see what happens"

He just needed an excuse, some sort of aggression for the girl to justify bringing down hell upon her, not a single care whether he too got injured in the process. This bitch was not getting away with it, not on his watch.
Tempering: Half-Activation



thebigfella thebigfella Peckinou Peckinou @miki @mechanicalmania

 
The Doppelgänger
SCENE:
Late-Night Chase
TIME:
Nighttime, post-arc 1
LOCATION:
Aksher Co. offices, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Minato
LATE-NIGHT CHASE
Minato winced as the pipe constricted around his wrists, the metal biting into his skin. He took a moment, feigning a struggle, before settling down. He'd have been lying if he'd claimed this was the first time he'd had his hands bound behind his back. It wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence for him. Heck, this wasn't even the least comfortable experience in recent memory! Still, less than ideal. Ah, well. You work with what you've got.

"Alright, alright, ya got me," he said, testing the rigidity of his restraints. No dice. It wouldn't come free in a hurry. He knew he had to play his cards right. "Y'know, when you was beatin' me senseless, I got a sense off'a ya. Y'ain't seem like tha' type who'd be down t' protect guys like Akshay, so I figured y'must not a' known."

He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Charlie's eyes with a wily gaze, the truth reflected in the other boy's eyes. Bingo. "Figured as much... Well, lemme be the first t' tell ya. The dude ain't exactly a saint."

Minato continued quickly, "Listen, I ain't just swipin' data for kicks, here. The joint you're defendin'? It's a front. They're into some dark shit, least of it's human traffickin', on a massive scale. Usin' their corporate clout as a smokescreen for moving people. Innocent people." It was risky, but Minato's instincts told him that Charlie was the type to bite.

He shifted slightly, trying to appear as sincere as possible while also making a show of the pain in his wrists from the makeshift cuffs. "So listen, I've got a plan to nail these suckers, but ya' gotta get me out of these n' back upstairs. Quick."

He shifted again slightly, the metal bindings clinking. "In one of the computers, I managed t' slip in a thumb drive. Cute lil' number. It's the key to blowin' the lid on all a' this. But the crafty bastards've probably gotten wise to me by now, so time ain't on our side.

That drive started a process, a deep data dump of all their dirty little secrets. But it's not complete. There's one more thing: I need to manually enter an auth key. Only I know it. Once that's done, boom—every shady deal, every dirty secret they've got, it's out in the open."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Or... there's another option. If you're not too keen on blowin' this up big time, I can share the data discreetly wit'cha. Might be the Phoenixes're interested in a bit o' Cowboy Justice of their own. I know you guys get down like that."

Minato's eyes were intense suddenly intense, his expression serious. He knew he had to seal the deal. "Either way, we gotta move, and we gotta move now. What's it gonna be, Bluey?"

He held his breath, waiting for for The Phoenix's decision, hoping he made the right one.


 
MARKUS WEISS
SCENE:
Sunday Roast
TIME:
October 21st, 2021 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Passeri's Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park & Markus Weiss
SUNDAY ROAST
Markus watched Passeri closely as she spoke, his expression unchanging. How long had it been since he'd come to represent the so-called 'Status Quo' of the Albino Tigers? Once he'd been the outsider, the contender. The usurper. Now, it was his head that held the crown. And it was his neck that the sword of judgment hovered ever over, dangling precariously by invisible strings. Fate had a funny way.

He set the fork down. The meal was over. He wasn't hungry anymore. Markus steepled his fingers, considering her words. After all, there had been so many of them. "Makes sense." He could find no flaw in her logic. Not that he'd tried all that hard. Not that he'd really put his mind to it. And after all, she hadn't asked him for anything. Not yet, anyway.

A while ago it had occurred to him he didn't know much about Passeri Park, outside of the things he knew that she wanted him to know. Him, and everyone else who entered her orbit. If knowledge was power, then a lack thereof could only be weakness. He had since made steps to rectify this lapse in understanding; the process was ongoing. Still, she was right about one thing. Trust was a commodity as scarce as honesty. But self-preservation? That was something everyone understood.

If in the worst case, he had sacrificed nothing and gained nothing, then it didn't matter. But in the best case, there was upside. Still, he didn't like her tone, so he'd make himself difficult for her. "N' what makes you think I need your help?"

Markus's expression hardened. Trust was a luxury neither of them could afford. Still, Markus was no fool. He needed allies whom he could rely on. But more than that, he needed to ensure that the allies he chose weren't double agents secretly plotting to stab him in the back once he hazarded a chance at exposing it. Going it alone was preferable to holding court with a tangle of vipers.

Markus's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on a sharper edge. He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "What makes you think I need you?" He paused, letting the implication hang in the air for a moment.




 
PEYTON XIONG
SCENE:
Confidental Motivations
LOCATION:
Taka's Apartment, North District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || July 1st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Takahiro

CONFIDENTAL MOTIVATIONS
Immediately as the match started, Peyton realized that he wasn't playing to his best. The rush of cocaine to his head made him overconfident and sloppy. But despite that, Peyton found himself with the victory. Ah, that was right. Taka was also just as high, if not more.

"A bet? That sounds fun!" Peyton exclaimed to Taka's idea. The idea, and the fact that Taka wasn't telling him what would happen if he won was making Peyton all sorts of excited. His heart raced as his mind imagined what the possibilities could be.

But honestly, going out on a friend date with Takahiro seemed more fun. Peyton might've had the dexterity to dance, but his dancing typically amounted to only wiggling on the dance floor, so getting a lesson from Taka would be a blast. Taka also seemed the type to know how to have a good time during a date. With that all in mind, as Peyton picked up his controller once more, he realized he'd be far more content with losing. He brightly accepted Taka's wager, "You're on! I hope it's something as good as getting to go out on a friend date with you!"

That round, Peyton purposely chose a character that he knew he would be bad at. There would be no way that Peyton wouldn't lose, even if he was trying, right? But as the match progressed, Peyton found that despite his sloppy playing, he was still winning. He knew that Takahiro wasn't that bad, so why was Peyton winning so solidly?

Unfortunately for Peyton, he was far too stupid to think too in-depth about it. So he simply continued playing. Finally, Peyton found himself winning the match. Despite being the winner, Peyton didn't feel like one. In fact, he felt quite bummed out about it.

"I guess I won," Peyton said, a tinge of sullenness leaking into his voice. But in the next second, it vanished as Peyton's mind went back to the potential possibilities of what he had just won. He set his controller down on the table, turned around, and placed his arms on Taka's shoulders. With an eager gaze into the Serpent's coral blue eyes, Peyton asked, "So what's my reward?"

Slav Slav
 
Deirest
SCENE:
Trail of Hate
TIME:
June 30th | Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Steamin' Saussies, North District | Silverlit Grounds
PARTICIPANTS:
Jayce, Deirest
Trail of Hate
"No-no-no, mo-ney! Ya' understand, chick?"

Deep within the serpentine folds of the North's alleyways, a middle-aged man was howling at the top of his voice. Steam poured out of the stall in front of him, gussets of warm, wet aroma; essence du hot dog. Equal parts sweat and condensation pooled on his brow, and his face grew redder and redder by the moment.

"Quit... yelling." Disheveled and probably half-drunk, only a lone woman stood in front of his humble stall, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was exactly because of her presence that his clientele was so scarce.

"I STOP YELLING WHEN YOU PAY!" He howled, stamping his foot as he went.

"I don't... Pay" Whatever that was. "I take." She wore a sloppy, smug smile on her lips, the kind that one did when explaining something to a perfect simpleton. In the woman's left hand was an ungarnished, half-eaten sausage, while the other dripped wet and steaming from the plunge it'd taken into the meat cauldron to retrieve the porky treat. She stared into the man's eyes as he continued to shout, swallowed the last of her sausage, and then flexed her fingers to retrieve another.

It was all quite simple. She would eat. He would cook. She didn't understand why the man did not comprehend that- the ones at the church did, after all- but she would educate him. Her hand plunged again into the steaming cauldron and seized hold of another sausage. This time, though, the gentle massage of boiling water was not all she felt. There was another yell, indignant and fierce, and then the sharp sting of metal as a pair of tongs rapt against her skin.

All in all, it wasn't much. Mosquitos had probably stung people worse than the man's reflexive snip had her, and yet, before hardly a second had passed she was on top of the man. His stall clattered noisily as she bowled it aside, sending a cascade of metallic bangs and pangs ricocheting throughout the alley, and a wave of hot dog water washed across the filth-laden concrete below like a great, biblical flood.

"Hey hey hey hey..." Gently, she knocked the man's skull against the pavement. "Why did you do that?" The man's eyes trembled in surprise, his tongue stilled by shock. So she did it again. "That was wrong." And again. "Hey... Hey. Cook. Hey." And again. "Why aren't you yelling anymore?"

"M-miss..."

And again. Harder.

"HMMMM?" Again. "WHY. DID. YOU. DO. THAT?" With every beat of her voice came another pound against the concrete, each firmer than the last.

"Stupid, stupid..." Deirest muttered. Blood had started to leak from the man's skull, and the harsh stench of dehydrated piss leaked from his pants. "Idiot..."

She kept going. She'd already forgotten that she was hungry.

 
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