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

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HECTOR MOSES
CS Link
SCENE:
Blank Canvas
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3: September 30th, 2021 - 11pm
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Milo Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
BLANK CANVAS

”That’s an easy one. You go home.” The stranger pointed to Milo.

”We aren’t go-”

”I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to your boyfriend. You stay here and pick the broken glass off of my lot.”

”I think you’ve gotten very, very lost. You’re lucky I haven’t gutted you yet.”

”Oh we’re not lost at all. It’s all official now, we own this place. And your friends aren’t welcome.” The man took some keys out of his pocket, jangling them in front of Hector. ”You are a Phoenix, right? You can give your boss the news.”

”Hey, should you really be saying-”
”Who cares? You go home too if you’re scared of a couple Southern punks.”

”You don’t know, do you?” Hector let a sword form from his arm, holding it out for his opponents to see. The dominant of the two stepped forward. It would’ve been obvious already, but he looked a lot different to the usual South District man. He was well-groomed, and well-dressed. Expensively dressed. Not dissimilar from the average Tiger. Even the masks were elegant.

”I think I’ve found some good target dummies, Milo. How about you get back to showing off.”
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet
LOCATION:
South District
DATE:
May 3rd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Milo ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet

“Hrrrrmmmmm.”

The struggling artist, the groan of unsure rumination. Unearthed dreams cannot be grasped, and the unknown cannot be articulated.

Tak knocked his eyebrows against each other, his lower jaw protruding like a chimpanzee’s as he rested his chin upon his balled fist, staring at his blank canvas as if he were in a contest with it.

He needed to draw something, didn’t he? Yet his fingers never reached for a brush or any paint; instead, his bloodshot eyes bore into nothing as if he could manifest something with his mind.

Within his brain, images displayed over his vision, overlays of pinups of beautiful women, scantily clad, in swimsuits and lingerie, all compiled together and compressed over the featureless linen. His blinks tried to burn the images upon the portrait, as if when he eventually opened his eyes, an art piece would appear.

He did this for a long time, and nothing happened.

“Damn, this art stuff is harder than I thought. Can’t I pay someone to do this?” Tak mumbled under his breath. He leaned over to the side on his stool, hoping he was the only one being held back, but as he looked towards the other understudies, they had already started. Mina was like a sword; Kassaki had pulled out tools better used for math, protractors, and geometric stencils across the canvas. Kelsey was taking slow, soft, and deliberate strokes as his eyes were narrowed and focused.

“I wonder if I can copy someone’s notes,” he pondered like he was taking a school test, but with the space between the canvas, there was no way he could do it without Barker noticing. With a sigh of defeat, Tak rolled his neck before grasping his knuckles together, bending them backward with an audible crack.

“Nothin’ to do but wing it!” He said enthusiastically, straightening up, “I’m gonna paint all over this thing, damnit!”

His form physically bristled with energy as he raised his hands in preparation, throwing a couple of jabs like he was about to fight against the concept of art. But as Milo offered him a brush, he stopped immediately in an abrupt display of calm pleasantness. He took the brush. “Oh, thank you,” he happily took it from his hand, like Milo had given him a dropped pen, holding the brush between his fingers and letting the bristles swing in the air.

“Alright! SOMEONE GET ME SOME PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY!”

As if they were expecting this, Tisha and Rosetta slid from opposite sides of the perspective, offering peanut butter and jelly on each their own platters and handing it over to Tak with smiles on their face, “Here you go!~”

Quickly, Tak dipped his brush into the jelly; he swung it in the air, flicking off the extra jelly from the brush, flying through the air, and nailing the opposite wall. Tak slammed the brush into the canvas, and soon the brush was gliding across, filling in the blank spots with dark colors from the jelly; alternating pressure changed the richness of the tone, swift brush strokes joined long and deliberately, he brought the rush up to his mouth to suck it clean, before dipping it into peanut butter and repeating the same process.

“ORRRAHHHHH!” His body moved in a flurry, and his eyes shone bright with vibrant red light as if he had been possessed by a painting demon. Kelsey was the only one who allowed it to distract him, and his eyes went wide as he leaned over to watch what was happening.

Barker watched himself as well, though his facial emotions weren’t clear as he rubbed his goatee.

Splatters of peanut butter and jelly flew everywhere. They splashed over Tak or splattered across the back of someone else’s canvas. Kelsey was unlucky enough to have a glob of peanut butter land right on his forehead.

And then, as quickly as it started, it stopped. Tak leaned backward. The brush steamed from its tip, bristled, and burned down into stubs. With a sigh, he let the brush drop from his fingers and land on the ground. His eyes closed with a smirk.

“It’s done,” was all he said before he turned the canvas around for everyone else to see. Barker’s brows raised, eyes widened, Kelsey looked up as he finally finished using a rag that Antonija had given him to wipe his face clean, and even the other painters stopped to glance over.

The painting gleamed with brilliance, hiding what had been painted for a moment, only allowing the reactions of awe to be seen first, “N-No way…” Kelsey choked out, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

“Heh, ain’t that interesting,” Kassaki commented, not offering much reaction but a smirk and a cup of his chin between two fingers.

Barker stared upon the creation, his intrigue turning into a nod of appreciation and respect, “Now this is truly interesting and innovative…”


The light faded, and the creation was revealed. A ukiyo-e painting, the design of a courtesan woman from an old Sankain era long forgotten, her figure sprawled out over a futon, kimono hanging loose to reveal a spider, rich colors, filled with emotion and allure.

All done with peanut butter and jelly.

Tak stood up beside his painting, leaning on it with confidence as he presented it, “Pretty damn good, right. I even surprised myself,” he remarked, a haughty shrug as he turned to look towards the maids, eyes narrowing towards Tisha and Antonija.

“I did it with peanut butter and jelly…because I find women so sweet and creamy…” he put on the charm, raising two fingers to his lips to smooch them, a flick of them sending out a heart that floated through the air like a deflating balloon.

Antonija and Tisha looked at it deadpan, but Rosetta stormed onto the scene. She immediately snatched the heart and shoved it into her mouth, loudly crunching it up like hard candy as Tak looked on in horror, “AHHH!” even screaming in terror as his eyes went blank and his jaw dropped.


“Looks like everyone’s full of surprises. Someone with no talent can suddenly become a prodigy. Or maybe he was just putting on airs,” Kassaki remarked, crossing his arms as he watched the comedy routine go on; his eyes shifted from Tak to Milo with a side gaze.

“Pretty interesting, ain’t it?”


 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Reaching The Heavens From Hell (Pre-Arc 3)
LOCATION:
Tourist & Casino District, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Shishido Takakazu, Sylvie Slezák ( WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten )
Reaching The Heavens From Hell

“What am I gonna buy? Ain’t it obvious?” Tak reiterated his question with a rhetoric of his own, a haughty grin as he gave a shrug, finding amusement in Sylvie’s oblivious, “What does any man want when he gets rich?”

A question with many answers, women, power, whatever else could correlate to leisure. A new car was undoubtedly on that list. But Tak’s gaze contracted, a silence that spoke of a desire for something more, his cocky grin turning to a frown of grave intentions.

What did he want? Did he have a mother in surgery? A little sister he tried to buy out of prostitution? A life-saving surgery he needed?

“I’m gonna buy the Jumbo Fruity Tabooty Pancake Stack from Benny’s,” Tak deadpan explained, raising a finger to stick in his nose, the visual of the giant pancake appearing over his head, the tower's tall stack dripping with syrup and berries and whipped cream.

A cold chill breezed past everyone else at the table, their bodies shaking from the impassive silence that followed. Each of them wore looks of uninterest, their bodies going black and gray in the shock of how simplistic and blatantly unaware his answer was.

“There’s no way he’s winning anything,” they all thought in unison, and immediately, chips began to move, contrasting Tak’s bet, chips piling high onto odd and even.

The roulette spins, the ball rolls, and turns, the colors of black, red, and green blurring together. Everyone else at the table was so confident that they would win that some had begun to order drinks or joke amongst each other, not worried about the bet at all.

Tak watched intently, his eyes bulging as far out of his skull as they could. He zoomed into the roulette ball as it slowed down, its rotation ending. The ball bounced through different slots until it finally landed in a single section, coming to a halt.

27, Red.

“YOSSSHAAAAAAAAAAA!” Tak erupted in victory, raising himself up to slam one foot onto the table, tears of victory flying from the corners of his eyes as he raised his arms up in the air in triumph. All the other players looked over in unison, a moment of confusion that malformed into understanding. All of them crumbled over each other to crawl towards the center of the table and look at the roulette table with beady eyes, crushing Sylvie underneath their dogpile.

“N-No fuckin’ way!”

“My chips!”

“How did an idiot like that win!?”

“GAAAAHAHAHAHAH!” Tak laughed like a machiavellian, his teeth going jagged like a demon as he held his hands on his hips, tongue sticking long out of his mouth like a serpent's, cackling with his chest, before he dove down to swing his arms wide, embracing all his new chips in a hug, dragging them towards him like a trapdoor spider would bugs who wandered too close to his den.

With joy, he took the chips and snorted on them like crack, tossing them up in the air like golden coins and licking over them like chocolate, laughing with rancorous joy all the while.

And then he abruptly stopped, his sly eyes turning to look at Sylvie with a punch-worthy grin, leaning one leg over the other as he looked at him with a faux pout, “Awh man, that’s too bad! I guess you won’t be getting that second car after all!” Quickly, his act of pity disappeared, and a bright-faced, rosy-cheeked smile replaced it, “Don’t worry, I’ll be thinkin’ about you while I’m enjoyin’ my pancakes!”

Like the game was over, he was gloating, forgetting the one who won the war wins it all.


 
Eisyu Ito (NPC)
CS Link
SCENE:
WYTTTTLBYUFTIFOYIACP
LOCATION:
East District | Hibachi Bar
DATE:
June 19th, 2022 | Evening
PARTICIPANTS:
Eisyu (NPC), Tak
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Those robotic motions of his carried on as he listened to him. The old man softened at the praise. Oddly enough, he was… comforted.

The young man was oddly profound like that. He mused about many stupid things, but within those were little nuggets of comfort. Things that Eisyu could recite as potential facts, but nothing he truly believed at his core.

For some reason, when he said Eisyu was a good man, he believed it.

The end of it gave him pause. He held his tongue as something in his eyes shifted.

What was she like? It was hard to say. From the second he met her to his thoughts of her now, Eisyu treaded softly on the flowers of her memory. She had changed, evolved in some sense, into something indistinguishable from the woman he knew as a young man.

But there were common threads.

“My wife is… she is organized and strict, so she is a secretary. Keeps me together. Keeps my family…”

He couldn’t quite say that she kept their family together. It wasn’t just wrong, it was the opposite of true. She drove them away. And Eisyu failed to reel them back in.

But that wasn’t the big thing.

When he could help it, he avoided mentioning that great sin. Bringing it up brought him the only anger he had felt in a long time. And as quick as it came, it was snuffed out by his guilt.

Within the pause, Eisyu looked at the man before him. There was something more to his words. He couldn’t place it, but it was potent. Call it a hunch, but Eisyu trusted it more than any specific moment he could bring up.

That, and there was that determination to him. Even as he rambled about, there was fire behind his eyes. It revived a part of Eisyu that he wasn’t sure ever existed.

“…Keeps my family apart. She kicked her,” He said as he pointed at the door with a spatula, “out of the house. She was only seventeen…”

He furrowed his brows as he cracked the egg over the grill.

“…And I never looked for her.”

He left him to chew on the information as he left to retrieve the meats from the kitchen.

thebigfella thebigfella

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
July 19th || Post-Outbreak
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi miki miki , Eisyu (NPC)
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Tak really never was much of a listener. In one ear and out the other, fate would usually wait for whatever someone had entrusted him with. He lived a turbulent life; he could drop dead tomorrow. That reality kept him distant from what surrounded him, a divide between that which did and did not matter.



He stared at his reflection at the bottom of the glass, only distorted by the remnants of alcohol that still hung within, tiny droplets that speckled his face like cancerous tumors.



He decided it was best to push the bottle aside for a moment. He hadn’t even gotten buzzed and was nowhere close to the drunkenness he was hoping for, another chance to forget, another opportunity to escape.



His clasped together, dry skin rubbing against each other, as he continued to listen. The background noise kept his attention while he drowned himself in a drink like it had always been, but it was no longer there. His eyes were shadowed by his hair, and he stayed silent; no words even came close to his lips.



He didn’t judge, nor did he remark. He thought. The ice-cold streets, the dark nights of the unknown. The fears of dark alleys. The stroll from one path to the next. He remembered it vividly, how he wandered aimlessly.



He was 17 then. How old was he now?



Eisyu walked away, and Tak stood there; he felt his tongue move around in his mouth, glossing over his teeth as his hand rubbed over his face.



She was kicked out, left to brave the storm on her own, of no choice. He had chosen this path; he had left of his own accord.



His mother always tried to bring him back; for a long time, she clutched to the idea that her child was still there, a truth he vehemently lived to deny.



She came for him.















No one came for her.



Tak’s eyes looked towards the door, and he slid off the stool. His feet came to a walk across the floor. They quickened to a jog and then exploded into a run.





???
CS Link
SCENE:
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
July 19th || Post-Outbreak
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi miki miki , Eisyu (NPC)
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Rain poured, soaking everything. It trailed in rivers adjacent to sidewalks, carrying debris to storm drains. Passing cars beamed lights, distorted through falling crystals, splashing water underneath tire treads.



Slacks clicked against the wet ground. Rain poured onto a black umbrella, drizzling down the sides, hanging onto the metal tips before losing its grip and splattering against the ground. Sunglasses absorbed light like a void; not even the moon reflected off them.



Gloved hands gripped the umbrella handle, and dreads hung from his hair, unmoving from the grace of his steps. His walking was mute. The cars stopped passing, and the rumbling thunder stilled. Everything went silent except the rain.



He came to a stop; a woman crouched at the corner. Her eyes were unfocused, gazing beyond, perceiving what could not be seen. Fingers twitched, lifeless clicks, fuelless ignited, fumeless breaths.





There was an audible click, and light flittered to life in front of her eyes, flashing within the darkness of her pupils. It waved in the wind, presented by a metal-cased zippo. A gloved hand held it out, and without permission, he brought it towards the end of his cigarette, lighting it.



The man leaned back up, letting the light extinguish in the rain. Wordlessly, he extended his umbrella over Hiachi, freeing her from the downpour and embracing the wetness upon himself.



No words were exchanged. Both of them stood there; the man looked down upon her wordlessly.



Waiting for her to finish.




Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
July 19th || Post-Outbreak
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi miki miki , Eisyu (NPC)
When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter


Tak’s body heaved with heavy breath. His jacket, soaked through, matted against his back, and his white shirt wrinkled from water. His hair was matted against his skull. His breath condensed in the air, and he didn’t move.

His eyes stared at the ground, his pupils dilated, unmoving from the center of the whites.

A cigarette lay against the ground. It still blazed with embers. It still wafted smoke.

It was all that was left.













The restaurant door slowly slid open once more. Walking into it was a heap of a man, his posture slouched as if he had lost his spine, his soaked hair on his face, his body dripping water onto the floor, making puddles in the wood as he stumbled forward.

He didn’t look up. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even breathe. His body stood there, slumped there, lifeless as a still-standing corpse that had not yet realized it had been killed. The evidence was, in itself, his existence.

Eyes like a dead fish, they bore into the ground. Soulless, hollow, and unfeeling.


 
JAVI ONEIRO SILVA
SCENE:
Losers!
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || June 11th, 2022
LOCATION:
East District, Skate Park
PARTICIPANTS:
Pei, Javi
LOSERS!
"HEADS UP!" Javi warned as he strafed and swerved to avoid running over the trapped playmates, striking the edge of his board like a match against the cracked concrete.

Sparks flew.

They came quickly upon a grounded playmate coated in blue ichor. With no time to weave around him, Javi dropped, then quickly elevated, his center of gravity. The board's four wheels left the pavement as Javi and Rocco went soaring over the familiar green lizard. Time slowed for only a millisecond, but Javi swore he had made eye contact with the little anarchist before landing on the other side and leaving him still trapped, but without a set of new wheel treds for tattoos.

Crouching on his board as he picked up speed off a bend, after hitting a particularly tight angle, Javi unthinkingly reached up and held Rocco's back for stability. The little guy was wobbling to and fro, wind tousling the crown of amorphous feathers that crested the top his head; it was used to the tempo of Javi's rides by now. In fact, it hardly seemed fazed at all. Its eyes were laser-focused on the sight of their quarry ahead. And what it would do when they reached it. At the back of Javi's mind, he could feel his companion's righteous fury simmering like a pot of boiling water.

"You good up there?!" He shouted over the roar of the wheels and the rushing of wind.

"Trr-tch-tch!" Rocco huffed a curt response; it was all business, never taking its eyes off their destination. Javi nodded. He agreed.

The goo that Luvi had fired thus far had begun to harden. Javi made a mental note to undo the gum traps later, and free the constricted playmates. Unfortunately, all of that would need to wait; they'd just have to bear with it for now. For now, his main priority was two-fold, thinking like a Dragon. Contain and mitigate. That was a Dragon thing to do. Right? He may not have been the best, or most experienced, Dragon there was… But even he could see the obvious writing on the wall: the longer this went on, the more harm would be done.

And the risk of innocent bystanders getting involved increased.

Javi steeled himself with a sharp focus. His set his own personal feelings aside. He had a responsibility to stop this before somebody got seriously hurt.

Meanwhile above, Luvi bobbed along. She was still firing globules of sticky goo leisurely at racing playmates, having a grand old time.

Unfortunately, neither it nor Javi had anticipated a retaliatory strike, least of all one from the air. Javi only needed to take one good look at the swooping bat-out-of-hell to know what was coming.

Luvi couldn't move like it could. At her best, her movements were sluggish and inelegant compared to a thing like that. She couldn't hope to outmaneuver it. As soon as that red demon entered the fray, Luvi became, functionally a sitting duck.

When its shadow overhead blotted out the sun's rays from reaching his aerial companion, Javi gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He stared inertly up at the ensuing dog fight. The bat-like creature battered Luvi from all sides, sending her swirling dizzily through the air following an uncontrollable arc.

"Get outta there!" He shouted up at her as Rocco bristled on his shoulder, eyes blazing with fury at that red winged demon.

She bleated in distress. With no other course, Javi diverted his path away from pursuing Pei and kicked toward the action; he tracked Luvi's arc with his eyes as she spun out. He reached out and nabbed her before she fell to the ground, cradling her like a bird with a broken wing. She mewled up at him, eyes full of viscous, watery tears.

"I gotchu, I gotchu. You did good," he whispered, patting her head the way he knew she liked, before releasing her to hover close by him as together they wheeled around to face Pei fully once more.

"Nah!" He called back loud enough to be heard across the gulf of open space that separated them, eyes and expression hard. He glanced furtively over at Luvi, the scratch marks on her shell. He felt an emotion he didn't often experience: anger. Peaceful wasn't an option anymore.

Nah. He was pissed now. You mess with my friends, you get messed up.

Pei wasn’t going to make it easy for him to make good on that promise.

As the noxious fumes rolled over the park and towards him, Javi skirted back on his board, quickly taking one last deep breath of pure, un-putrefied air before covering his mouth and nose with his shirt as the cloud rolled over him.

It didn't do much. The concoction stung his eyes. They watered. With one hand squeezing his nose and mouth shut, he searched the smog for any sign of that yellow-haired demon or his cronies.

He whirled around on his board. Visibility was near zero.

Luvi trilled nervously, hovering close to Rocco, whose blank-staring eyes narrowed to slits.

"Rocc—" he began, only to have the gaseous vapors assault his senses of smell and taste. He hacked into his shirt, stifling a cough as the fumes burned his nostrils through the fabric of his shirt.

Luckily, Rocco didn’t need to be told what it needed to do. Without fuss, the yellow critter hopped down from Javi's shoulder and made a textbook three-flipper landing.

Whirling toward the source of Pei's voice, Rocco locked its sights on a section of opaque smog, his target lying somewhere in that haze. It planted its flippers into the concrete, as an electric ochre glow began to emanate from its energetic core.

Rocco splayed his flippers as wide as he could stretch them, assuming its full wingspan. Luminous pulses of power arced up and down the full length of his diminutive form.

As the hammer stroke of intention met the anvil of pure willpower, Rocco slammed the tips of both his flippers together to the sound of great plates of earth crashing into one another.

The strike produced a clap of thunder so loud it popped Javi's eardrums despite it facing away from him.

The resultant sonic shockwave raced over the surface, blasting away the noxious clouds and revealing the clear skies above. It scattered debris, playmates, and trash as far as the eye could see.

If Rocco spied Pei through its now unobstructed vision, it was on sight.

 
MINATO MAEDA
SCENE:
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth
TIME:
April 3rd, 2022
LOCATION:
Blast-Off DVDs, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Shishido Takakazu, Dante Aguilar
RETURNING BACK SOMETHING YOU DON'T OWN IS BASICALLY CHILDBIRTH
"KYAAAAA~!!"

"KYAAAAA~!!"

Both mugger and mugged screamed like schoolgirls.

The disguised Minato threw down his knife. Sent it scattering across the pavement into the dark outside the halo of the street lamps. The un-disguised Minato just kept screaming. Minato, through the haze of his own delirium, couldn't decide if the store clerk's expression was falling, or had already fallen. Did this place have a basement? Surely, he thought, any fear she may have felt at feeling the cold edge of a blade at her neck dissipated instantly upon hearing that duet of dueling squeals.

The ski-masked Minato ripped the thing off, feeling short of breath despite the holes he'd cut out for his mouth and nose. He doubled over, hands to kneecaps, and sucked in fast, heaving breaths.

"Are you crazy!" Minato in street clothes threw the question like an accusation at the 'man', who he now recognized as Cerberus—what, with the many googly eyes thing she had going on within that visor—as he rubbed Muggato's back. The latter was working his way through it. "You coulda given us a heart attack!"

Stupid dog! She made him look bad. Ughhh... And things were going so well, too. Somehow, some way, this was probably Dante's fault. He just couldn't let the master work his magic. Oh, no. Not Dante! Nope! No sir-ree! And all of that material? Wasted! Down the drain. Ugh, really?

No, seriously, I mean, really?! He had the whole script planned out. First, he was going to hold himself for ransom. Then, he was going to break free and beat himself up, and—or, he would've revealed that he was actually protecting her from the creep who had decided to glom on to her as she just tried to walk to her ride and go home—would you quit it! That was never the plan!

Shoulda been!

Nuh uh.

Yah huh.

NUH UH!

YAH HU—something freaky was happening with that chick. Minato exchanged a quizzical glance with himself as the woman's whole demeanor seemed to change on a dime. Neither of them had heard the gunfire. Or they didn't think anything of it. But she seemed to be reacting to something. It made her look all weird. Sound all weird. Oh shit she just mangled Cerberus' hand. Oh shit she just nicked herself on the knife!.. Oh shit she's going back.

Minato looked from her, to him, to her, to him again. One nodded, then the other followed suit. It was time. Formation B...

Minato and Minato sprinted after her. They dove in unison, each latching on to one of her calves like a pair of lampreys to the underbelly of a whale shark. She dragged them along the ground with surprising ease as they both simultaneously pitched their ideas for the ultimate version of the evening's events in ever louder voices—the ambiance was already ruined. Might as well try and crowdsource some fresh inspiration.


Meanwhile, in the store...

Minato sat criss-cross applesauce on the checkout counter, hand rummaging through an opened bag of sour gummy candies, picking through the still-warm shell casings. He plucked one out, admired it in the dim gloom, then popped it in his mouth as he watched Dumb and Dumber fumble over each other like they were secretly both trying to cop a feel but not get called out for it.

He looked over at Dante as he fought to remain conscious.

"Hey, this place is pretty fucked up, huh?" He offered him the open end of the bag, giving it a little shake. When he didn't immediately reach for one—what, he still had one good arm, didn't he?—Minato shrugged and rustled around in the bag some more himself.

"Oh yeah, by the way, the clerk? Yeah. She's comin' back. Totally not my fault! Wasn't really my type, anyway."



 
Zentsupa Pei
CS Link
SCENE:
Losers!
LOCATION:
East District, Skate Park
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || June 11th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Pei, Javi
Losers!

The roar, the crack of the sound barrier, and the resulting thunder of compressed air rumbled through the atmosphere. A cleave through the disgusting miasma cleared to reveal a singular figure standing within. The remnants of the air force ruffled the loose edges of his clothes, causing wrinkles to travel across his whole attire.

“Kekekekek,” a subdued cackle of amusement came from the jester’s lips as he reached up to unlatch his gas mask, tearing it off his face and dragging it through his hair before unceremoniously tossing it to the ground.

“Alright,” Pei began, reeling his arm back over his shoulder, Q-Bot hanging within his grasp, the robot’s shocked expression trailing across the perspective in a close-up before he became a blur of gray, Pei’s eyes narrowing upon Rocco as his target as his arm cocked like a baseball player’s.

“YOU’RE UP, SHITBOT!” Pei commanded, and with his arm moving forward like a whip, the tiny robot was flung through the air, its body moving so fast that its whole form concave, arms, and legs straightening out into a spear.

“EHHHHHHHH!?!?!?!” The robot’s bewilderment was spoken out loud as tears flew from its eyes, trailing behind it all the way until it crashed into the pavement face first, skidding on the ground with sounds that mimicked an empty soda can being dragged along by a leash, stopping right in front of Rocco.

The robot pulled its head up, and immediately as it saw Javi’s amigo up close, the automaton quickly raised himself back up to his feet, taking a fighting stance.

“You don’t scare me! I’m a fearless hero!” the robot shouted, valiantly raising a hand towards its chest as an imaginary cape fluttered behind him. With a spin and a jump backward, the robot placed its hands on its hips.

Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, music began to play. Trumpets, tambourines, and drums cut through the tension. Q-Bot stood there proud as he began to stomp in place, raising his arm up and down like a marching band conductor.

And then, he began to sing.

"♪In a world where troubles brew! Comes a hero, brave and true! With circuits humming, gears are in sync! Q-bot's here; no need to think!♪”

Brave and valiant, Q-Bot ran into danger with his cape, wrestling against giant monsters, flying through the sky, and swooping in to save a car about to fall off a cliff, turning to the camera and flexing his muscles with a shimmering grin.

“♫Microscopic, yet so bold! With a heart of gold, never old! Through the day, through the night! Q-Bot fights with heroic might!♬”

Playmates found themselves entranced by the song. They stopped what they were doing, looking on in awe, until something compelled them to come over and join. They formed a line right along with Q-Bot as they mimicked his dance, raising their arms and knees up and down as they joined in on the chorus.

“♩Q-Bot, Q-Bot, tinier than a dot! Saving lives with every zap and every jot! With courage in bytes and strength in wire, Q-Bot, our hero, never tires!♩”

At lightning speeds, Q-Bot ran through the flaming streets of a destroyed metropolis, his cape fluttering behind him as he tied a nefarious villain terrorizing villains in a hogtie before zipping off to place a cork right into a volcano, hands proudly on his hips as he shimmered in vibrant light.

“Q-Bot! Superhero!” Q-Bot screeched in the middle of the song, leaning close to the view to point at himself proudly, “That’s me! Pi-pi-po!♩”

Once again, the song kicked off into its next verse, with Q-Bot being lifted up by a crowd and praised for his valiant heroism.

“♪In the city's darkest hour, Q-Bot rises and shows its power. With lasers beaming, fast and bright! Evil trembles at the sight! Of his fiery heroic might!♪”

With a valiant pose, Q-Bot stepped forward, taking various fighting poses, kicking and punching the air dramatically as the song rose to his crux, the instrumental growing louder.

“THE UNSTOPPABLE! UNBEATABLE! SUPER HERO! Q-BOOOOOT!”

“SHUUUTTTT UPPPPPPPPP!”

With eye-bleaching, jagged-tooth fury, Pei lifted up a flamethrower in his hands, the gas tank strapped to his back as he pulled the trigger, unleashing hellfire upon his Playmates, as they all erupted into screams, running away as their bodies were engulfed in flame, Pei swinging around the inferno gun like it was a toy, making black streaks onto the floor.

“KYAAHHHH!!” Q-Bot shrilly cried out, hopping and skipping as it held onto its flaming, blocky behind and ran off into the distance.

“Tch, fuckin’ useless trash!” Pei cursed, looking towards Rocco as his annoyance shifted back to his one-sided enjoyment on the dime, “Guess I have no choice then!” He remarked, holding the flamethrower over his shoulder.

“Littershitter!” Pei shouted over, his head snapping towards the side as he aimed his focus in some unventured direction; the focus shifted to follow his eyes, grazing across the pavement until it reached a pair of tiny, fuzzy paws folded in seiza. A small blue cat-like creature sat on a small tatami mat, a little table next to it, holding a saucer, as it had a ceramic cup between its paws, taking a small sip of the hot tea inside.

It released a relaxed sigh and opened its eyes with disinterest towards the ongoing scenario, looking at Pei as a blip in the distance.

“I’m not interested,” Bushineko said bluntly, “Your ridiculous games are yours to sort out-zarunyan,” it reasoned, taking another sip of its tea.

In response, Pei gave a slight clench of the trigger of his flamethrower, opening the gas valve enough to let a small ember shoot out the end. With his other free hand, he held something square-shaped, glittery, and glossy, with a matching sparkly woman on the front. It was some kind of album, and with a twisted grin, Pei held it up to the flame.

“NYAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Bushineko shrilly cried; from sitting and drinking tea, in a blitz of speed, he had suddenly come over to Pei, jumping up and down like a toddler as its paws frantically tried to take back the album, only for Pei to just lift it out of his reach with a giggle, “M-My limited edition Stargazer album! Do you know how precious that is-zarunyan!? Give it back! Giiiive iiiit!”


“Kekekekek! Fine!” Pei retracted the album, letting the flame to his thrower die out as he loosely shook it between his fingers like a dead pet goldfish, “I’ll give it back to you, only if you take care of that oversized banana!” Pei promised.

Immediately, a paw gripped onto a golden hilt, a faint shimmer of polished metal as the grazing of sheath against blade revealed a samurai katana within the tiny cat’s grip. It turned around to face Rocco with a grimace, holding the blade in front of him with him.

“I apologize, I hold no ill will towards you, but it must be done-zaruynyan,” the cat samurai spoke with resolve. Its blade quivered within the air as the cat moved it around within the atmosphere, once again getting a feel of its heft before its eyes narrowed into slits.

In a series of quick slashes, the samurai sliced through the air; blue-streaked cross-sections traveled out from the edge of its katana, flowing through the air weightlessly as they carved through anything in its path. Scars left the ground behind its path, aiming to slice right through Rocco and turn him into nothing but pieces scattered across the ground.

This Playmate was different from the other ones!


 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth
LOCATION:
Blast Off DVDs, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Takakazu, Dante (@Haze-), Minato ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth

Tak’s oblivious blink dictated that he had no clue what was happening behind him. Splurts and gushes of blood sprayed around from Dante’s now missing hand, and Tak only aimlessly stared forward towards the register, trying to think of his next move calmly.

“Yo, got any ideas?” He questioned, not realizing Dante was bleeding out, turning more pale than usual. His head finally turned around when he didn’t get an answer, and upon seeing the man in suffering, he raised a brow, undisturbed by the whole situation, as if being blasted with gunfire, getting electrocuted, and having saws fly at you was expected, “You okay?”

Obviously, he wasn’t.

And then suddenly, Tak felt the tight tug against what was left of his roots, his weight being lifted off the ground as his immediate response was to go, “Ow, ow, ow,” like his mom was going through his hair too roughly with a comb, not realizing a massive chunk of his hair had gone missing. When he was placed back on the ground, he only noticed the new wolf who had made his appearance. In probably the only quick thinking he would manage this week, he swiftly realized that thing was most likely one of Dante’s things.

He definitely didn’t like this one compared to the other one. Its whole aura and energy were primal and untamed. Compared to the troublemaking and devilish Cerberus, this thing was definitely more of a rip-and-tear type of deal.

Well, all Tak wanted to do was return this CD, so he wasn’t much disturbed by it. Still, a deadpan look was on his face as he felt his eyes drifted sideways away from the action, mouth slightly open in plain-faced unamusement, “You know, paying the late fee might have been better than this,” the faintest realization of consequences formed in his hollow skull, but before he could actually have a chance to think too deeply about that, Dante’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Try not to die; I can’t really afford a funeral gift right now,” Tak said awkwardly as if the situation was weird instead of dire, and the fact of his wallet was grimmer than the chance of fatality, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was, at that moment, the sound of smacking lips, sucking and lapping at citric acid. Tak’s nose turned up the smell of sweet treats; amongst the smell of gunpowder and copper, he could faintly pick it out, and then his head turned with a snap to look.

There sat the same man he had seen outside just a moment ago. Sensible questions that would have gone through a more analytical mind might have been, how did he get in without them noticing? Why didn’t he help? Or maybe, putting together the fact that there was something wrong by just glancing out the window and seeing two more of him already outside.

But, none of those questions ever occurred in the rookie’s mind; instead, his fist clenched tightly around the plastic case that held the cheap DVD movie; the plastic cracked and bent underneath his grip as Tak’s teeth ground together, his eyes going bloodshot as he stared at Minato, visibly lines of purple energy wafting off him as his neck thickened and pulsed with muscles, the twitch in his brows made it seem like he was about to have a stroke as his blood pressure went through the roof.

“You dumbass…if you’re already over there…!” Tak’s fury bubbled to the surface, and his body shifted, waist rotating as he reeled back the DVD between his fingers, holding it like a ninja star as its dull edges gleamed like a sharp metal blade. Tak’s eyes turned red, and his gums grew visible veins as his whole body moved like a blur. Slinging the DVD forward through the air with the speed of a bullet, leaving a shockwave as it left Tak’s fingers.

“YOU COULDA RETURNED THE DAMN DVD YOURSEELLLLLLLLLLLFFFFF!”

The DVD case spun through the air and nailed Minato right in the forehead. It then bounced off it and floated through the air wildly until it slammed against the ground and slid underneath the counter.

Just at the correct position, hit a hidden button underneath it.

With an audible click, the sounds of whirring machinery made Tak freeze, his posture immediately straightening as his head snapped around, “More guns!?” He prepared himself, raising his fists in a fighting position as if he could punch the bullets.


But instead of a secret compartment opening to reveal more weaponry, the ground pulled itself apart and dragged the DVD shelves underground. The hydraulics hidden out of place rattled as they swallowed all the cheap rentals into darkness.


There was a long pause, leaving Tak to blink, lean over, and stare into the abyss until mist and smoke began to seep out from the crevices. The dense gas filled the ground as something began to rise from the unknown.

Tak looked at it with bewilderment before recognition came across his face, and then he stepped back in surprise, “N-No way, this is…!?”

New shelves had replaced the old, dilapidated ones made from reused old wood, instead were long, metal racks that held weapons upon them; rifles, machine guns, explosives, everything you could think of were illuminated underneath an ominous blue backlight, the prices of each item displayed underneath on a dangling tag in the thousands to the millions.

The posters on the walls changed underneath the lighting, blacklight revealing their true colors as buyer guides and advertisements for certain arms. The back shelf behind the counter folded and twirled around to reveal itself, lined with magazines, rockets, and other munitions.

The whole store had transformed into a secret underground arms store right before the three's eyes.


Tak had only one thing to say as he aimlessly blinked at his new, futuristic surroundings.


“...So, we returned the movie, right?”


 
[media]
KANNA KATSURA
SCENE:
The First Day
TIME:
[Pre Arc 1] March 2018
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kanna, Shen
The First Day
The Jack followed her King wordlessly out of the Dragon compound.

She took note as the masses gave way for Shen and her, others standing at attention. All Shen did at most to return the gesture was smile. Kanna on the other hand didn't react. Her attention was solely focused on the one she was under. Though she hid it well, she was a little awestruck of how much of a presence Shen had within the district. For his otherwise carefree outward appearance, he carried himself well. Or perhaps even that was a facade.

The answer to her question came quickly as they pair walked through the market district. Kanna was just getting used to Shen's walking cadence when he suddenly changed directions, moving towards a fruit stand. She was quick to adjust, staying a few steps behind.

"I- Um-"

Her hand moved upward but paused in the air as Kanna watched Shen take hold of one of the fruits that were presented, and bit into it. Her eyes immediately looked towards the man running the stand, worried that Shen had offended him. But for the most part, everything seemed fine. He did know the man by name after all. Perhaps this was normal? She'd have to come by later and compensate him for the fruit.

Just before she was about relax, Shen's offer caught her off guard.

Seriously?
Surely this was some sort of test. First it was the Dragon compound, now this. What else did Shen have planned for today? Or was she just at the mercy of his seemingly short attention span? The conflicted thoughts of Dragon Jack remained her in her mind as her facial expression remained stoic. Kanna shook her head, holding her hand upward; her palm facing outward in a stopping gesture.

"I'm fine, thank you."

A part of her began to hope that this outing wouldn't last long. But of course, she wasn't going to say that out loud. If she had to accompany him throughout the entire day, so beat it. For now, at least, things weren't so dull. Kanna took a deep breath, her eyes observing their surroundings before returning their gaze back to her King, waiting for his next movement or order.
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Two People Hungover is a Hangover But Three People Hangover Is A Crowd. The Point Is, Everything That Is Bad Is Better With More People To Suffer With You
LOCATION:
South District District
TIME:
January 8th, 2022 | | Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Hitoshi @joshuadim, Tak
Two People Hungover is a Hangover But Three People Hangover Is A Crowd. The Point Is, Everything That Is Bad Is Better With More People To Suffer With You


Tak breathed to catch his breath and kneeled over as he struggled to get his bearings straight after crab-walking for so long to escape the terror of a homeless man's smelly, soiled pants.

"Man, I don't know how you're so good at that," Tak remarked, glancing at Hitoshi, swallowing as he finally caught his breath and straightened up. It must have been that tear I gave you that helped limber you up." He tried to turn his mistake into something positive with a grin, clearly hoping to avoid owing Hitoshi anything when this was over.

But as the topic returned to that nightclub, Tak's eyes lit up with memory, his arms crossed. "Oh yeah…I think it was...that way?" Tak directionlessly pointed in some vague area before blinking and shifting his finger to point somewhere else. "Or was it this way…?"

He tried to remember, but his drink-addled brain couldn't piece anything together from last night. If he couldn't remember why he was ass to ass to a guy, there was no way he could remember some nightclub.

Just as hope seemed lost, Tak's brow furrowed in distress, and a voice called out to them, raising Tak's head.

"Yooo! It's the two crazy party animals from last night! What's upppp, dudes!"

The wheels of a skateboard turned and came to a halt. On top was a man who looked plucked right from the 90s: sunglasses, long flowing hair, and a tropical shirt. He even did that "rock on" thing with his hands as he walked up to them both.

"Woah," he paused, pulling down his sunglasses to look at them both, "Man, are you two still stuck together like that? Total bummage. I thought it woulda worn off by now bro."

"Great, another guy who knows us…" Tak mumbled, but as realization dawned on him from the man's words, Tak suddenly grasped at the man's shoulders like he had just done earlier, though with much less aggressiveness. Instead, he was hopeful, eyes wide as he spoke, "Wait, you saw us get put together like this!?" Tak questioned, giving the man a tight grip and crumbling the man's shirt at the shoulders.

"Yeaaaah dude, I saw it," the skater nodded before stopping to purse his lips, "Well, not saw it, but I saw you dudes come back stuck together, are you… weren't. I thought I was trippin', bro, like, 'Are the aliens finally here to take us over?' But nah, it was just you two. You didn't even seem weirded out being stuck to each other. Real namaste of you two, not gonna lie."

Finally, the picture was starting to come together; Tak's brows narrowed along with his eyes, letting his grip go on the man as it seemed he was willing to talk without much extortion or force, "What do you mean we came back and were stuck together? Did we both get fuckin abducted by a UFO, and they just plopped us back down ass-to-ass?" Tak questioned, the situation going from annoying to confusing as his headache worsened.


"No clue, bro. I just know you left and came back and were like that! I wasn't really paying attention; I was trying to reach my inner chi and reconnect with the cosmos, so I was kinda tapped out…" he admitted, rubbing his goatee in thought, before snapping his fingers, "Though, if you ask the bartender at The Loophole, she might be able to tell ya somethin'."

"The Loophole?" Tak reiterated that the name was starting to sound familiar as his gaze focused on the goal at hand.

"Where's this place at?"




A few moments later, and a bit more crab walking later, Hitoshi and Tak found themselves outside a familiar nightclub. A rather hole-in-the-wall place, with a red metal door and a neon sign surrounded by brick layers. It would only spark the interest of people who were in the know.

To prove that point, right next to the door was a clear depiction of the Phoenix, its figure designed with spray paint across the walls. Its flaming feathers surrounded it as it raised its wings high.

This was Phoenix territory, but Tak seemed undisturbed by that fact, calmly sticking his finger in his pinkie as he looked toward Hitoshi with an uninterested blink.

"Man, this place looks shitty. They can't even afford to clean up the graffiti outside the door. We musta been drinkin' piss from the bottle," Tak remarked on his assumptions of last night, a grimace on his face.

He was so oblivious that it would be comical if he wasn't attached to Hitoshi.




 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
The Idol’s Mask
TIME:
July 31, 2022
LOCATION:
Vernwood Park, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Vander, Sheridan, Melody
The Idol’s Mask
She hated this. The blatant milling to and fro of security, never out of her sight, and her never out of theirs. The looming presence in her shadow, controlled by fingers above and beyond her own. Ever since the incident, this was how things had been. It frustrated her, being treated like a wounded fawn like this. She didn't need it. Whatever protection she needed, she already had. Superfluous, that was all any of this was.

"Thanks for coming!⋆｡°✩" She hated this, but nobody but herself could've told you that. Her smile, as ever, was impenetrable. Even beyond her staff, this whole event had been a deluge of teary-eyed fussing. Wave after wave of fussing fan, still shaken by the near-loss of the object of their adoration. It was sweet, she wouldn't deny that. The thought that there were so many people in the world that would be moved to tears by her injury, but if she were to spend her day being fussed over, there were other places and other people who she'd rather be the victim of it from.

The silver lining to it all, she supposed, was that today her Potential blazed hot. The diamond pupils of her Potential reached out, beyond her eyes in the form of a four-pointed star of light. If she were to face any more would-be butchers today, then things were going to end differently.

Or at least, that was what she told herself.

"Thanks for coming!⋆｡°✩" Again. The same tone, the same cadence, practiced and perfect as ever. The line shuffled forward, and she handed off yet another messily rapped gift to the event staff. The pile of them beyond the black-velvet curtain that backed her sunshade was growing into a truly impressive thing, a mountain of well wishes, intermixed with the usual assortment of romantic pleas. If she weren't face to face with a fan at that moment, she would've sighed at the thought. The chocolates, at least, make for decent stock for her charity work. But the bizarre gifts? The hair-knitted sweaters and shamanistic dolls? What was she even supposed to do with those?

"Thanks for coming!⋆｡°✩" Another face. Another stream of tears. Another hastily produced trinket for her to sign in spite of it all. Another set of minutes being treated like a wounded fawn. She hated this. She took a moment to check her phone for the time. There were still hours left, so she sighed as the line cycled from one fan to the next.

"Thanks for coming!⋆｡°✩"

Interacted: N/A
Relevant: YumenoTsukishiro YumenoTsukishiro Faker Faker miki miki
 
RAPHAEL SHAW
CS Link
SCENE:
Dissonant Ichors
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1: December 21, 2020 -- Dusk
LOCATION:
Alleyway, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Raph
DISSONANT ICHORS
Raph's head spun for a few woozy seconds. He shook his head like a dog to clear the double vision from his eyes, letting locks of wild, raven hair fall across his face. He rose to his feet again, his back hunched, arms dangling carelessly like a beast.

“You motherfucker," he snarled the curse, mouth smiling wickedly to reveal bloodstained teeth. As his field of vision narrowed to the width of a pin, thinking only of sweet, bloody murder, Raph leapt over Darius' floundering form—and the large hand that followed—landing in the snow with a turn and a flourish. Just like that, ten whip-like fingers of blood—five for each hand—wriggled like live wires around his outstretched arms.

“Come on, you ugly prick," Raph snapped. “Come over here and die like a good little mutant. ~"

The dull giant reared its ugly head, peering down at the tenacious bugs that refused to be squashed. In the chaotic soup of its addled mind, Raph's goading sounded more like the warbling of a dying cow. Reminded it of food.

The beast bellowed loud enough to shake loose layers of fresh snow from the neighboring rooftops. Raph smirked. As the titan took two lumbering steps forward, raising its arms to hammer Raph like a nail into the pavement, the Serpent moved. Sprinting directly toward the giant, Raph dodged one thunderous blow before diving feet first between the creature's legs, kicking up powdery snow as he struck out at its bare legs with his whip-like claws, lashing the creature's flesh near to the bone before popping back up on the other side.

"AUGHH!" The creature roared.

“Ooh, I think we made it angry," Raph said to Darius beside him, with a worrying lack of concern.

 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
Back to the Dorm
TIME:
Post-Outbreak || July 15th, 2022
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Xuefeng, Kanna, Chiyome
GROWING PAINS

He didn’t know how gummy bears would win him over but as usual, Kanna swept in to save the day. It was clear from just looking at the kid he was antsy. He may not have had the ability to decide things here but he’s pretty sure Kanna could do whatever she damn well pleased in this place as Jack. When the kid bolted he supposed that at least one of them should have guessed that would happen.

He jogged to catch up with Xuefeng and was rather glad that Kanna had already begun setting boundaries. That meant he could just be the backup right? He remembered his own mom saying how important it was that caretakers be on the same page and show a united front… granted she proceeded to say that’s why he didn’t grow up with a dad so he wasn’t sure how much that fit here. At the very least not fucking up meant following Kanna’s lead, probably.

He saw the other dragon looking at a food stall in the distance. The kid was probably hungry right? What was that piece of advice he’d heard before? Don’t offer a kid too many choices, and never one you wouldn’t want? Well, he felt up to ramen.

“Hey Xue do you like Kaarage or Ramen better? You haven’t eaten just yet right?”

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura FabulousTrash FabulousTrash YumenoTsukishiro YumenoTsukishiro
 
Hiachi Ito
CS Link
SCENE:
What The Dirt Remembers
LOCATION:
East, Heiwana Sasayaki Summer Camp (Abandoned)
DATE:
May 16, 2022 | 9:57 PM
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Rem
WHAT THE DIRT REMEMBERS

Hiachi’s eyes darted to the left and to the right before she could look at Rem straight again. It was her potential. It must have been so obvious.

But it wasn’t. Not to Hiachi, anyways. Hiachi had babbled on about her potential back when they were kids, but she couldn’t recall Rem ever saying it outright. Perhaps it was in between the lines; perhaps Hiachi forgot.

For years, she had been her friend. Her good sense of direction, her wide range of knowledge, it was all chalked up in the childish summary of cool. Rem was cool because she knew how to skip rocks, she knew every species of dragonfly, and she always won campfire trivia. But there wasn’t anything beyond that, then.

Rem was cool because Rem was Rem.

It never unnerved her before. So why did it now?

Before she could spiral into an analysis of every moment they had spent together prior, she held her tongue. Being gawked over because of a potential, purposeful or not, was uncomfortable. She knew that much. Her lips pressed together as her straight-lined mouth morphed into a scowl.

“...Sorry.”

Because she felt bad this time. In hindsight, having a potential was probably the only explanation for her extraordinary memory.

Maybe Rem did expect her to be smarter than this.

Foolish girl…

Hiachi’s hand idly reached for a flat stone next to her. Her hands traced it, flipped it over a few times. It was smooth to the touch, likely from years of erosion.

She couldn’t match Rem’s piercing gaze. If she looked, she was scared Rem would see her, too. Beyond the heavy eyes, charred skin, and twitching. She was worried that Rem would care about what she’d become. But more afraid that she won’t. That she’ll continue to stand there; collected, languid, bored; picking her nails; not even considering summoning the energy to judge her.

For some reason, this was what gutted her the most. The mirage, the exaggeration. It eclipsed any fears she had about hypothetical danger.

“...I didn’t know,” she finally added. “Just… too damn stupid, I guess.”

When she threw the rock, it managed two skips across the lake before sinking into the stagnant water with a thunk.


gxxberkit gxxberkit

 
Hiachi Ito
CS Link
SCENE:
The Hard Way
LOCATION:
NOPD, West District
DATE:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 4, 2022 | Daytime
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Mugen
THE HARD WAY

Quiet.


The station was like a bubble. Wreckage sounded from the outside. But the office itself had been evacuated, so the loudest thing was the buzzing of the air conditioning and the sound of her shoes against the linoleum.


Hiachi started off careful. At first, she considered the business and its connections, and what would make sense in order to throw the scent off of the Tigers. About two minutes later, she took one look at the second half files and snatched it out of the drawer. Information was information, after all. It would do nicely for plenty of people Hiachi knew.


She was going to return with a good report on Mugen for Camila, too. Fucking crazy. Deploying him anywhere is like dropping a nuclear bomb.


The evidence was outside. Even as she emerged from the back door, she could see the world had been flipped upside down. Smoke billowed from the static of red and black. The bodies of officers littered the street. Some bleeding, some not. Some breathing, some not.


The life that seeped down the storm drains haunted her peripheral vision. Violence of this scale was unprecedented for her role in the Tigers. Stuff like this was the kind of stuff in PSAs against gang violence, or propaganda against HPs. A reality safely locked in black and white screens. But this was real. This was blood.


With one look at him in this state, she felt it again. That dull twitch in her arteries that knew better than she did.


This was why people like here were built to fear. Why people like him were built to terrify.


So she nonchalantly walked up beside him.


“I’m done.”


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura


 
Hiachi Ito
CS Link
SCENE:
Bones
LOCATION:
Central Outskirts
DATE:
April 29, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Dagger
Bones

This was way too much for Hiachi.

It was already a lot to deal with the first question: How do you want to do this. Hiachi would prefer to not do this at all, but this wasn’t the time for that kind of honesty.

She was given options, plus rational rundowns of each option. It almost managed to calm her down. She got closer to the body, now willing to inspect it. As she pondered the possibilities, she failed to notice the knife that Dagger was unsheathing from her belt.

“Well—”

The blood that splattered out of the heart made its way to Hiachi. It was barely anything: only a droplet. But it trapped her voice in her throat and made her irises shaky and small within an instant.

The corners of her lips twitched. None of this was funny, but accepting this turn of events as reality made Hiachi hysterical.

The woman kept chatting as casually as one might to a coworker at the water cooler. Immediately, Hiachi was terrified again. Her words did nothing to soothe her anymore—in fact, quite the opposite. She wasn’t the boss of this situation, was she? She didn’t want to be. The smell of blood was making her sicker and sicker.

“Uh… no. This isn’t my car.” Hiachi twiddled with her thumbs in the silence, trying to think of anything normal to say. “...What do I call you?”

simj26 simj26

 
Hiachi Ito
CS Link
SCENE:
Taking A Break
LOCATION:
West District | Camila’s Apartment
DATE:
June 28, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Camila
Taking A Break

The size of the door dwarfed Hiachi. She walked through the door while looking up, as if it was a royal gate that might snap down on her at any second. Her eyes wandered back in front of her and around the apartment. The black and white sleekness was exactly what she expected of Camila.

When she took a deep breath in, instead of smelling some sort of artificial, flowery freshener, she was hit with the scent of food. The tantalizing concept stirred within Hiachi before she even processed what was cooking.

The colorful idea of stewing meats and vegetables danced in her mind. It was the first reminder of the day that she was tragically hungry. Most days, she went off of one meal per day, with added snacks she snatched away throughout it. She had to swallow hard to attempt to forget about it.

She decided to focus on something else: Camila. The whole reason why she was here. It was instantly evident that she was worse for wear. Most of her limbs were covered in gauze and bandages. They looked fresh, as if they had been recently tended to and changed. While that didn’t make her look disheveled, it was worrying.

What the hell happened to her?”

A question Hiachi was certain wasn’t getting answered today. Her job was to deliver, not interrogate. The risk of souring Camila’s mood was far too severe for Hiachi’s taste.

And yet, having to sit and wait patiently was a cruel punishment. Hiachi could feel herself starving more and more by the second. She was in physical pain from hunger. Audible rumbling from her stomach echoed back up to her, forcing her to cross her arms and try and suffocate it.

The second Camila was within earshot, Hiachi quickly interjected with a necessary question. “...Do you have any water? Can I have any water?” Her voice was raspy. From thirst, yes, but also from restraint.


Roda the Red Roda the Red

 
Melody Tucker
CS Link
SCENE:
The Idol’s Mask
TIME:
Post Outbreak | July 31st, 2022
LOCATION:
West District | Fool’s End Cafe
PARTICIPANTS:
Melody, Sheridan
The Idol’s Mask

“Thank you so much!” Melody profusely expressed her gratitude to Sheridan, as she had been ever since they sat down. “Cassidy hasn’t been this excited for anything since—“

“IROI!!!” Cassidy screamed, like a Kopamon that only knew how to recite its own name, as she also had been the entire time. It seemed that every few minutes, when it sunk in that she was gonna meet THE starry-eyed idol, her excitement shot through the roof.

The spontaneous shout earned the group a few sideways glances, but Melody paid it no attention. Instead she smiled at the child as she grabbed her cup of raspberry tea with both of her tiny hands.

“—Yes! We both thank you!”


Melody hummed a melodic note, smiling wide at the masked man. People really are still kind!

It was immediately clear that Melody thought herself in no real danger. To her, threats of violence were commonplace in daily conversation. Her siblings always threatened to tear each other’s limbs off. Teddie always talked about broiling people down to their bones, and Anguó laughed as he shouted about snapping people’s joints like wishbones. To her, this was their way of saying they would protect her from harm.

While it was impossible to know what Cassidy was thinking, her stance was about to become clear as she gawked at Sheridan while stuffing half of a blueberry muffin into her mouth.

“...IROI!!”

Melody looked between Cassidy and Sheridan, eye swelling with pride. “She’s very grateful!”

As Cassidy continued to scarf down her breakfast, Melody smiled with her hands folded. She didn’t sample any food herself. Instead, she studied it. She was always trying to learn more about cooking, and her most recent venture was presentation. The way everything was laid out was important, Melody had learned. Eyes have taste buds, in their own ways.

The café and the fanmeet, all in one day! It was incredibly generous of him to offer it all. Melody was already dreaming up all the ways she could thank him. Scones, maybe?

 
KENKI ITO
CS Link
SCENE:
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold
LOCATION:
Ito Family Household
DATE:
July 13, 2013
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

”ITO KENKI!”

Kenki jolted awake from the sound of his name and the rapid succession of knocks at the bedroom door. He didn’t even need to ask—he knew who it was. He jumped up out of bed and threw his duvet at the wall. Unfortunately, before he could open the door, the occupant on the other side beat him to it.

Now face to face with his mother, Kenki raised a shaky hand and greeted her with a meek smile. “M-mornin’ mom,” He stuttered out. Even with as formal as he tried to be, she responded with furrowed brows and a deep frown.

“Is it so much to ask if you wake up in the morning?” She huffed, before walking to the side of the hall to pick up a basket of laundry. Her stilted accent tripped up her words, but she was too worked up to try and fix it. “You—you aren’t have a reason to sleep late. Look at me, I work every day, even in the Summer, and I am awake. You are young. But you are gonna get lazy! And soon you won’t be able to do anything even when you are an adult, and I’m gonna still be picking up after you—”

“Mom—?”

“AND YOU!” She raised her voice. “You are still grounded!” She tried to walk off with authority, but the weight of the basket made her sway to the side.

Kenki didn’t respond. He knew this song and dance already. There was no use trying to talk back.

He looked back at his younger brother, who had evaded the lecture by being the new resident of the top bunk. He was still fast asleep, with no intent on waking up for at least another hour. Rikunori seriously slept like a rock. It was a true miracle that he could sleep through all the noise.

Well, the empress hath spoken. He quietly groaned as he walked down the hall and made his way to the bathroom.

His frustration was warranted. Being grounded meant something entirely different in Kenki’s world. He wasn’t just losing privileges—he was losing a chunk of his soul for two weeks. Without a guitar to strum, electronic vocals to mix, or harmonies to edit, Kenki was left living life impossibly slow. Without any sound, he became antsy. His normally jovial mood became jagged and drab.

Which was unfortunate, because when he opened the door, instead of a normal bathroom, he found his kid sister lying down on the cool tiles while hugging the base of the toilet.

Kenki scowled at the sight. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with the reason for his torture.

“...Hiachi, get off the floor.”

He tried to pry her off the toilet rim with a firm tug on the legs. She put up a decent fight—she refused to let go. It was a normally tedious endeavor, but a regular occurrence between the siblings. He would have eventually gotten her off if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her pinkish face and her big eyes streaming with fat tears.

Kenki pressed his lips together. His anger had fizzled out as quickly as it arrived. Hiachi hardly ever got like this, so it was hard to ignore her meltdown. He sat down, criss-crossed on the bathmat next to her. “Hey… I’m grounded, too. We’re in this together, ha…” He tried to gently punt her shoulder, but she coiled up in response. “...Yo, Hiachi, what’s wrong…?”

She sniffled before mumbling out a name.

“Nugget…”

“What?”

“Our fish… ”

Ah. The tragedy that most festival fish eventually face.

Kenki relaxed his shoulders. Grief, even slight, was hard for kids to deal with. He knew that well. His lip twisted as he thought about his poor fishy friend. Finley was his name. He suspected that Mom reacted the same way now as she did then—by snatching the bag away and flushing it down the toilet when she thought he wasn’t looking.

He was, of course. That was a bad day. He picked a fight with his best friend and knocked one of his teeth out after driving his brother’s bike straight into a pole.

That despair had long since fizzled out into something duller. Disappointment, maybe?

He patted his hand on his sister’s back. “Hey. Let’s go to the shrine today. We can pray for… for Nugget. Bring him nice food.”

Hiachi looked up at him confused. One of the conditions of being grounded was clearly not leaving the house—of which Kenki already considered.

“Mom leaves for mahjong at 10. If we’re quick, she’ll never know we’re gone. The tattler isn’t here to catch us, yeah?”

Kenki helped his sister to her feet as she rubbed her eyes with her upper arm. Her lip quivered, like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. She clearly wasn’t completely soothed with the idea, but wasn’t entirely against it, either. She eventually spoke up.

“...Can we bring him a castle?”

“Sure.”

fin.​


thebigfella thebigfella


 
Jacques de la Isarn
SCENE:
Contend! Relic Hunter vs Relic Hunter
LOCATION:
AmaiTherapii Store, West District
TIME:
May, 11th 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Jacques, Missy
Contend! Relic Hunter vs Relic Hunter

The sound of someone inconsiderably slamming the front door startled Jacques awake. He was not really sleeping, only half, for each and every slightest sound in the apartment could get an involuntary twitch out of him, so there was really no way he could be asleep. His chest simmered with chemical-induced anxiety as he lay awake like a traveler first day staying in a foreign country, waiting to be expelled suddenly from his hostel room for having broken a local custom he knew not what.

But the effects of the heroine were subsiding. Even his numbed tongue had regained some measure of its functions. He could almost speak. Then once then twice he blinked, feeling his eyeball dry as he studied the ceiling’s plaster. A wave of utter exhaustion swept over his body, his clenched toes rolling open. He could feel again. It was just like back in the army days when his knees would buckle every time after a raid, knowing the danger was over. But there was no danger here, only some fake sensations simulated by the substance he had injected into his body last night. And he was not thankful for it.

The moment his lips could move again, he let out a soft whimper, and was right away answered by a grunt from his left, harsh like a reprimand. The numbness was leaving him like a retreating tide, and one by one his senses were coming back alive. His nose could wrinkle at the pungent mixture of sex fluid and nearby breaths stank with alcohol. His ears could make out the snores of each individual right now lying around the apartment.

Finally he moved, with both hands lifting the burly arm laid across his chest. Another grunt came, yet the man beside him was too drunk or too sleepy to make further protests. Then for a while he stood confused in the middle of the room, feeling like the last man standing on a battlefield strewn with corpses. Men of all shapes and sizes, clothed and unclothed, asleep and half asleep, hair blond and black, filled the apartment just so. Occasionally a head would stir, a pair of eyes would squint at the clock on the opposite wall before dropping again. All these faces he knew too well, almost too intimately, what with they being fellow actors of the all-male troupe. But right now, he was sick of them, sick of the slacked jaws and eyes drowsy of sleep or intercourse afterglow. He felt his stomach knotted with dark feelings, his chest heavy, no doubt the lingering effect of the drugs. He needed some fresh air.

Wending his way among this mess, Jacques tried half-heartedly to find his pouch. His feet plodded against bits and pieces of nonsense on the floor: condoms, lettuce, underwear, some still burning cigarette butts, crab legs, broken glass, someone’s broken phone, toilet paper, half a pineapple, unidentified fabrics, heads, hands, feet, penises, and all other unnamable things that carpeted the apartment’s floor. Somewhere under someone’s naked lower half, he could see his last night’s dress, torn at the waistline - ravaged then buried like the corpse of a criminal. He sighed.

After a quarter of an hour, he found his pouch tossed unceremoniously behind the couch. It required some finesse to tiptoe over a couple - one still had his hand between the other’s butts - to collect the pouch then made straight for the shower. By the time he got out a few more had left and the front door had been slammed inconsiderably just as often. Although it was never their fashion to leave behind a goodbye, he wished they could have left a little more gently and less destructively. It was not his apartment, of course, but he practically lived here anyway. His own closet, vanity table and potted plants had been generously given space by the owner of the apartment, a rich member of the theatre’s troupe, who also funded most of its rowdy activities these days.

Jacques decided to put on some clothes, just like a perfectly functional member of society, before leaving. The underwear for the day was white, his main articles a sky-blue dress furnished with ample ruffles and laces the same way as the rest of his wardrobe, a small polkadot bow, a pair of black boots, and then sunglasses to hide his puffy hangover eyes. The word of the day was innocence. He was feeling desperate for it.

An hour later he was striding in the mall with a ringing headache as he searched for something that would catch his eyes. Not even the usual boutiques with their new batches of apparel had managed to sate his unidentified needs. He searched as one moving through life struggling to find a place to belong. The arcade at the top floor could not draw him in, nor could the rich stores of cosmetics, of beautiful fragrances the like of which could have made him forget the foul smell in his nostrils. He even thought of entering the cinema, for all his dislike for movies, but none of the current showings, cartoons, anime, or even musicals could elicit the cleansing aura he was searching for.

Not even the plushie shop where he had pinpointed for his last stop turned out to be anything of note. He stood unmotivated before it, his gaze rested on the fluffy letters on the signboard: AmaiTherapii. The shelves upon shelves of fluffy things within were colored like a candy store. With next to no expectation that he entered the place. And when he walked among the pastel-colored shelves he was fully aware that there was nothing pure or innocent or even childish about such a store, though the merchandise was indeed cute and huggable. These animals and mascots staring back at him were nothing more than manufactured toys. Maybe some kids could be made happy by those, but not a grown adult, no matter how hard he wanted to get into a childish state of mind. Chiefly, it reminded him of his sometime role as Ophelia when the woman had gone stark mad with singsong and prettiness. Maybe he could pretend to be mad, acting mentally deficient. Maybe. Or not. It was odd enough that a grown adult would browse these shelves, even though he passed more than well enough as a young, even innocent girl, for his facial features were soft indeed. It was also the kind of place where a certain breed of creepy men would wander in front. One such man Jacques had already scared away with a glare. He was uncomfortable, and utterly bored.

Might as well buy something though, he decided. Something cute. But as far as he could tell each of the stuffed animals here was made for a different kind of cuteness. Silly, adorably, grumply.

Even ugly.

He chuckled in front of a certain plushie placed on its lonesome at the end of an aisle. What is this, a sad egg?

But what really struck him was the price tag: the egg plushie was on its own pricing tier compared to the rest of the store’s merchandise. Almost like caviar in fast food store. As for why he could not guess. He was not familiar with the exclusivity of those things and whatnots. Only one thing he knew for certain: he wanted it. Not because he found the silly thing cute, far from it. But because his inner Markus was raising the alarm: this is stupidly expensive, I want it in my collection of overpriced manufactured goods!”

And so he grabbed it off the shelf.




BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
"NAOMI BLECHER" (MIMI)
CS Link
SCENE:
[The Woodsman and The Duckling]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Backstreets, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Mimi
THE WOODSMAN AND THE DUCKLING
It wouldn't be her issue, at least not after tonight, but the security here sure did feel rather lax. If an enemy happened to stroll in here just as suspicious and twice as malicious, this place would close quicker than the cafés that got the ill-tempered woman's order wrong.

“Hi.” She grumbled, seeing herself to whatever seemed comfortable enough to sit upon.

The reaction that came after was something between a scowl and gag.

“Oh sure. The lady's name is Tammy.” She pointed to the dripping blob of muck. “This guy fainted on their first date; isn't that sad?”

Her sneer was not fitting of her face, though was expected given her current tone.

“I'm Naomi.” She planted her chin in her hands. “Major Lab huh? Well scratch that then, I'm Mimi. I do all the lame crap so I can dress cute and post trendy drinks online.”

It sounded like a joke, but it wasn't.

“Anyway, while I am like, a really kind-hearted person, someone here ought to pay me or something right?” She pulled at her wet clothes. “I mean, I just delivered this weirdo to you in the rain. Basically saved his life, right? You have no idea how much danger or risk I had to endure to get here, yeah?”

For some reason she almost looked a bit bashful for such a shameless request.
@Misuteeku
 NAVIGATE
 
HIFUMI BAE
CS Link
SCENE:
[For Rest]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 | March 7 2020
LOCATION:
Nona's Forest, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Nona-me
FOR REST
A stifled laugh—typical of the mannerism-minded individual.

“Perhaps you have grown too accustomed to seeing me frolic about on the tips of my feet.” A laughable sense of pride washed over his face. “I have studied more than just dance. I am privy to a varied number of instruments. If it is a whistle you speak of, then I will play it most eloquently.”

What followed next has been denied in days present.

His conviction had bloomed before his thorns. The whistle taken in stride and studied under the lens of harmless impudence. A small sound of bluster bubbled in the moments prior, only for the whistle's tone to flare out in clashing resonance. He had certainly tried his best. What of, remains in question.

Had he thought the device comparable to a flute?

His questionable attempts at varying the output suggested as much. But no matter the approach used, the outcome remained disappointingly normal when compared to the earlier boast.

It was beginning to become unclear if he was turning red from embarrassment or the fresh void of oxygen that had been given in exchange.

A poor barter in hindsight.

“Have you… the snacks…?”

Oh no. He was becoming more formal.

gxxberkit gxxberkit
NAVIGATE
 
THE ALBINO TIGERS
SCENE:
[The Game]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | July 3rd
LOCATION:
West District | The Precipice
PARTICIPANTS:
Mugen, Li Daiyu,
Missy
THE GAME
The Precipice | Interior​
Mugen
No funny business it seemed.

It had been a hasty and quiet trip, with the pathway selected being relatively vacant of clubgoers. The ones that did pass spared glances equal to their curiosity but tempered by unremarkable wariness. Avarice was displayed generously on their persons with no marr of condemnable indulgence. Wealth, glass, and blood—that had always been the hallmarks of this place. A healthy testament to the affairs of the Albino Tigers.

BCAXYIc.jpeg
The room itself spoke to this, with the stench of luxury wafting out the moment the door creaked.

“I sure hope our esteemed challenger doesn’t mind a bit of humidity.” Eenie chuckled.

After all, the one responsible for the scent did appear to be the elegant device at the center of the room. Huffing and puffing a classy red smog into the well-furnished space. So that the color of the walls and floor were brought to a subtle match, and the items on display did not shine too obnoxiously. It was hardly a spot one would retreat to before a fight, rather one last excess before an inevitability.

But it remained imperfect.

The doughy couch at one wall had just the slightest bend, and the glass table barely wetted by a cold glass once present. These were but a few indications of prize shared—unbefitting of the grandeur promised.

“You'll have fifteen minutes.” The guide hummed. “And remember now: this night's match is do or die! I'd personally recommend the hot tub and the bubbly by the back.”

The Precipice | Holding Cells​
Li Daiyu
“Shut up,” A woman rasped.

A behest that, surprisingly, wasn’t aimed at Li Daiyu, nor towards any of the unfortunate mooks in the coffin of masonry. Rather it was a crumbly slice of dialogue from a conversation just outside. A blaring quarrel birthed from some unknown division between an unknowable amount of people. Particularly, because there rang only a single comprehensible voice above the rest.

“Can you idiots even grasp something as simple as ‘low-profile?’” The voice was closer to a sigh this time, but equal in volume. “How in the heaven's do you manage to mix up two entirely different people? Do you have any idea of the repercussions this could have?”

XUFkXB8.png
Evidently, she didn’t need to lay them out. Instead, the impressive barrier that separated freedom from servitude opened with a tremendous screech. And behind it sprawled an expanse that defied the tottering space of gloom presently occupied by the tipsy rookie. It was a glittering monument unidentifiable from the rest of the club—this prison might as well have been anywhere.

“You.” The red-haired woman called. “You’re the dishwasher, is that correct?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

“My apologies. My useless underlings had you pinned for a troublemaker we’ve been trying to locate.”

Her eyes gleaned the fresh depressions on the door.

“We’re actually short a fighter for tonight. There’d be no risk involved—the next fight is staged—and you’d be paid.” Her green eyes flared. “I can offer triple what this misunderstanding cost you. Just exchange a few hits, and go down. You could even leave early.”
 NAVIGATE
 
HIFUMI BAE
CS Link
SCENE:
[Whispers at Dusk]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, June 22nd, 2018
LOCATION:
Taiyōkō Shrine, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Mirza, Shuwei
WHISPERS AT DUSK
Hifumi didn’t so much as flinch in response to the courtesy.

As for outliers among the witnesses, there were two.

Dual faces among the trembling bunch who saw to the unease of their peers before their own. They maintained the group's composure and focus, while also curling around like shields. One with a face of soft, inward reassurance and the other a face of cold, outward distrust—not only to the strangers, but to the very same pale-haired sentinel who assisted these grounds as he was now.

“Dragons.” Came a scowl. “Don't you realize this only happened because of you?”

The other women tried to talk her down.

“No, I will speak.” She pulled her body away from coaxing arms. “It doesn't make sense for a belief like the one at this shrine to be tied to an organization of you scoundrels.”

The Bae family's son remained silent.

“We’re all just on edge right now.” The warmer one interjected. “Is there no way for us to attest together? There's a couple among us who would find it difficult to share their piece alone.”

Nods rippled across the mass, especially among the younger of the group. There wasn't a face amidst them who didn't hang low with a keen understanding of how selfish the request was, but they remained united in their plea. It may as well have been the exact type of stubbornness that was to be avoided.
Elenion Aura Elenion Aura WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
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