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

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HIFUMI BAE
SCENE:
[Legacy Lost]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 13th, 2022
LOCATION:
Zhànzhēng, East District | Silverlit Grounds
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Deirest
LEGACY LOST
Was he… upset?

There was a ball of rolled up emotion welling up at his core, but not for the tea set. It went without saying its value could not be consolidated with material currency. The memories woven in each subtle crack were too great. No. This feeling was much more selfish. Sorrow was too shallow an emotion compared to the petty sea that extended as result.

This woman—this broken woman's words were a slight to his acuity. Who was she to refute his insight with whatever garbled nonsense she scammed as prudent? She was in his home. Not as family, friend, or guest, but intruder. What she had to say didn't matter. She was feral. Wild. Inept.

He grasped his head.

The quiet between the now and the frigid air blowing in, would never be long enough for the pale-haired dragon's thoughts to break through these headaches. The pulsing against his skull was like a strained beat orchestrated by a jostled nest of insects—trapped and hungry with nothing to feed on but deliberation.

One. Two. Three.

The breathing technique did not fail him.

“You should go.” Words spoken, slick with shame. “I'll prepare a bath and a set of clothes.
"Then I ask you leave.”


A request. A demand. A plea.

Perhaps not intended for the uninvited guest.

NAVIGATE
 
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HIFUMI BAE
SCENE:
[Three Most Scariest Things To Wake Up To]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 | May 29th, 2022
LOCATION:
Taiyōkō Shrine, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hifumi
THREE MOST SCARIEST THINGS TO WAKE UP TO
Relax.

One. Two. Three.

The breathing technique did not fail him.

In truth, the slab of shame that repented at his feet was not without charm.

Hm.

No. Not correct

They were not completely hopeless. Their prostration technique, for example, was what one might consider refined. The sort of diligence that came from repeated—heavily repeated—usage. A stance, posture, and pitiableness that was not just the product of circumstance but methodical… training.

Yes. Hifumi was sure of that much.

“I understand.”

He didn't understand a thing.

“We can correct this lapse of self-control together.”

And just like that the pale-haired individual pried the excuse of a human off the floor. In the sense that he tried, decided against it, and saw to it that they rose on their own; then slapped a modest set of clothes on their person. Where the clothes had come from and how the sleeves had been managed was without answer. But somehow his laughable lawful nature gave credit to this peculiar occurrence.

“Now then,” He pushed a mop into the human-shaped rabble's hands. “We fight.”

Then he jabbed them in the gut.

NAVIGATE
 
ORDELIA DESDEMONA
SCENE:
[To Be Reborn Is to Rebirth]
TIME:
July 17th, 2022 | Post-Outbreak
LOCATION:
North District | Abandoned Church
PARTICIPANTS:
Areith, Ordelia
TO BE REBORN IS TO REBIRTH
You could always find a rat in the slums, and one of cloth in a church. So when a church may as well have been knee deep in mud, did that mean you'd find revered vermin, or a sullied clergy? Was there even a difference, and if there was, what did it matter?

They both reeked.

Tonight's guest floundered and dragged. Her jeweled eyes sloshing cerise in a sea of amethyst, crawling across the landscape so that they might find pause. Yet, disappointingly, so too did the dress she hauled splay mockingly of color when intention had it boast vanilla. It was a fatigue devoid of the usual apathy. A powdery awareness that flickered with each step towards a hapless destination. Not because of desire—or lack thereof—but a true and genuine void of mind.

A yawn. A groan. A lour.

Some rotting sense of responsibility had compelled the sullen thing from accepting benign aid from the youth. A convenient offer of passage from yonder to hither disguised with nothing but sweetened generosity. All for naught, turned away in favor of the mundane steps from weathered heels. Soles thrashed against the scant trials of minced shrapnel to maintain feinted sufficiency.

Ah. How embarrassing.

To arrive after all this time—both her present tardiness and the years between—would be far too embarrassing. Numerous lectures spouted up like a minced lung made obsolete through negligence and feeble dignity. Each was owed a day of poor presentation, but that day could not be tonight. More than anything, it had to be salvaged.

A grumble—unrest and appetite.

‘Just this once’ had been spoken as no single utterance, rather a conclusion resorted to when weariness headed no excuse. It was a limp and warm resolution that dangled and dripped and slinked. A natural response to something skin—deep being dug into by teeth and talon—exactly like the chunk of roadkill being sheepishly guzzled till eyes met epiphany.

Unbeknownst, and with rodent in mouth, she had arrived.
NAVIGATE
 
XUEFENG
SCENE:
Growing Pains
TIME:
Post-Outbreak || July 15th, 2022
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Chiyome, Jackson, Kanna
GROWING PAINS

Though for a moment, he thrashed like a wild animal in a feeble attempt to break free from her grasp, Xuefeng quickly resigned to his capture, letting himself hang there like a coat on a rack. His expression turned morose, crossing his arms in front of his chest in a show of bitter rebellion even as his legs dangled over the cobbled stones.

"Mm..." He refused to look at her, but nodded all the same. He'd be good... Enough.

As they walked on, Xuefeng looked from the lady with the hair braid, who'd offered to buy him something—not like he'd let it make up for the way she'd hoisted him like a kitten earlier—to the blonde kid with the ear piercings. Decisions, decisions...

Xuefeng cupped his chin with his hand to rake his fingers over invisible stubble, before turning back to braid lady with that same cherubic look in his eye, a look that dared to be denied.

"Both..?"

Many meals eaten and many Amestriyen spent later...
"Uwahh!~ I'm so full..!" The Child let out a long, contented sigh, surrounded by empty bowls and platters. Cracking open an eye, he peered across the counter at the cook. "Thanks, old guy! Hup!" Xuefeng hopped down from the barstool and started to make his way off to the next destination, expecting his entourage to follow. How easily he'd gotten used to this new arrangement...

What began as an aimless walk with only vague direction, morphed into a very purposeful stride, as Xuefeng approached one of the stalls that had attracted a sizeable crowd. Unlike the regular food or trinkets that usually lined the market streets, this stall seemed to be peddling some kind of... Contest? He squeezed his way between the hips of the observers to get a closer look.

"Step right up! Try your luck at guessing what's in the box!"

Behind a neatly arranged counter, a man with a wide-brimmed hat and a mischievous twinkle in his eye gestured grandly towards a large, ornately carved wooden box. Its surface was adorned with intricate patterns and peculiar symbols that seemed to dance in the flickering light of a ring of torches.

The vendor, clad in a patchwork vest and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, waved his hands theatrically. "Gather around, gather around! What secrets does the box hold? A prize beyond your wildest dreams, or perhaps a simple trinket? Only your intuition can reveal the truth!" He chuckled, winking at the wide-eyed Child who pressed closer to the front.

Scattered around the stall were small tables littered with various oddities that previous participants had won: shimmering stones, peculiar gadgets, and exotic feathers.

"Ah!" He spread his hands welcomingly. "Do we have a volunteer?" He asked, giving Xuefeng a meaningful look. The Child looked over his shoulder, his eyes pleading. Can I..?

 
Peyton Xiong
SCENE:
Soup
TIME:
June 1st, 2022; Midday
LOCATION:
Serpent HQ, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Raphael, Peyton
SOUP
As Peyton lifted the plastic container of soup to his lips to sip on the broth, he leaned over to August and gave a few ineffective little pats on his back. While chewing on a piece of chicken, Peyton piped up, "There there! Make sure not to talk while you're eating! But doing the deed? Here?"

Peyton had gravely misunderstood the coughing expletives that August had said. August had said 'fucking hell', not just plain 'fucking,' and it was as if Peyton hadn't heard the second half. Peyton also wasn't that good at taking his own advice.

"Whether it was sex or just smooching, I'm super jelly!" Peyton said to Raph. The first words that popped out of Raph's mouth immediately made Peyton remember just how much he missed the guy after being kidnapped for so long-- every word was dripping with cruel suggestiveness, and it was delightful. "I mean, you should let me join in at least!"

Peyton flinched when Raph began to approach him, although Peyton stopped moving when he realized what he had done. Whatever Raph was going to do to Peyton was deserved. And in some way, the way that Peyton let himself be taken by the promise of violence from Raph was oddly enjoyable.

For a moment, a mix of delight and dismay flashed across Peyton's face as his soup was rudely swiped out of his hands. In the next instant, Peyton felt himself get lifted up to his feet by his throat-- Raph seemed rather partial to handling Peyton like that-- which cut off his oxygen. Thankfully, the sensation didn't last, for the next moment Peyton found himself crashing into a wall. He let out a whimper upon impact, like a dog getting kicked.

"Ow... that hurt," Peyton complained as he sat up. He flashed a small, weak grin to August, in an attempt to let him know that Raph had Peyton's permission to hurt him. Many years had passed since Peyton had been in high school with August, and Peyton wasn't quite sure how receptive to violence the windbender was.

He crawled across the floor towards Raph, and took a seat on the ground so that he could peer up at Raph, "I don't think I can really drop dead! You could kill me though, but I wanna have a chance to make up for all the time I missed with you! Please? I promise I'll be obedient and listen to your every word!"

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
 
jericho s. madden
SCENE:
a daughter's eulogy
LOCATION:
south district
TIME:
2021 | post hurricane
PARTICIPANTS:
red, jericho
a daughter's eulogy
Seeing the girl smile made Jericho smile, he had even managed to get a laugh out of her. He was about to give himself a mental pat on the back for that, but then she started to cry. Rico's smile faltered, golden eyes widening, “Hey, you got nothin' to apologize for. S'okay."

Jericho sat completely frozen next to the girl, turning away slightly while he tried to figure out what to do. He didn't want to stare her down while she cried, that felt rude and he imagined crying in front of a stranger was a bit embarrassing. At least, Rico knew if he had been in her position he would've been embarrassed.

“Crying ain't a bad thing, you know. It doesn't mean you're weak or nothin'. Sometimes ya need to have a good cry," Jericho rose to his feet, walking into another room and returning a moment later carrying a plush teddy bear. Approaching Red again, he kneeled in front of her and placed the bear in her lap.

“If you need to hug somethin' or whatever..." Jericho trailed off with a shrug, a bit sheepish, “When I was little my Ma gave me this bear and told me to hug it any time I was upset. I thought maybe you needed some comfort so... yeah."

Honestly, now Rico was feeling a bit embarrassed. Did he really just bring out his teddy bear and give it to this girl? What a stupid thing to do. He didn't even know why she was crying, what if this made her more upset?? He didn't know why it would do that, but there was still a possibility.

“Now, I know we only jus' met and I don't want to pry or nothin'," Jericho's tail curled over his feet and he began to fidget with the hem of his shirt, “But if there's anything ya want or need ta talk about, I'm here."

Jericho would have to ask about what food she wanted him to order after this.

 
SHUWEI YUN
SCENE:
Whispers at Dusk
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Taiyōkō Shrine, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Mirza, Hifumi, Shuwei
WHISPERS AT DUSK

Staring into the yawning void that lay behind its vacant eye sockets, Shuwei ran a thumb over the hand-carved surface of the mask in his hands, tracing the pattern of the questions that whispered in his mind. Masks could mean many things, spin many tales. What, I wonder, is yours?

He exchanged a glance with Ruri. His thoughts were hers. The benefit of familiarity. He handed her the plain mask. She took it, looked from it to him, and gave it a playful shake. He smiled in spite of himself as she retreated to deliver the mask to Dragon HQ. Perhaps there was something to be gleaned from it that the naked eye could not perceive...

Ruri disappeared back into a portal from whence she had come, leaving Shuwei, Mirza, and Hifumi to tend to the witnesses.

Dissidents of the Dragons. One of them, at least. In any case, Shuwei knew well what they said about rotten apples...

“No.”

There would be no grace given. No exceptions made. Shuwei may not have been the premier investigator, but even he knew that interrogations had to be conducted in a controlled environment, to prevent collusion.

“There is nothing to fear.” He added, turning to Mirza to retake the reins, leaving the rest unsaid, but hopefully well understood.

There is nothing to fear, if you have nothing to hide.

 
Melody Tucker
SCENE:
The Frog In The Well
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 22nd
LOCATION:
North District | Collapsed Worksite
PARTICIPANTS:
Melody, Rem, Kisara, Deirest, Areith, Sad Sack, Anguó
The Frog in the Well

“You’re welcome!”

Melody waved off Sad Sack, and by extension Four-eyes. While she had been pretty confused the whole time, she was glad she could be of assistance.

The blood and flash of violence didn’t phase her. It made perfect sense for a corpse to bleed. Though, she wished she could comfort the others.

The arrival of a new party caught her off guard. It was good that she seemed friendly, since Sad Sack had stopped guarding a while ago.

She went to offer the tall woman a sandwich—maybe she’d want one!—but, to her chagrin, she glided past Melody and to the newly reanimated girl. Melody’s reach limped as she went to tuck her sandwich back in her basket.

Maybe later. Or maybe Cassidy would like them. Or maybe Rem would want one tomorrow.

She figured they were getting to the bottom of it. This lucky girl could speak, unlike most dead. She would know what to do next.

But that wasn’t enough for him.

Angúo
SCENE:
The Frog In The Well
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 22nd
LOCATION:
North District | Collapsed Worksite
PARTICIPANTS:
Melody, Kisara, Rem, Deirest, Areith, Four-eyes, Sad Sack
THE FROG IN THE WELL

All they did was find her. They fawned over this newborn corpse.

Not enough.

They only cared about this sacrificial lamb. What the hell has she done, anyway? Lives because a flip of the coin allowed her to? He didn’t know her.

He bit at his fingers as his eyes darted around the room. He was nowhere.

His eyes dashed between all subjects. Useless, faceless.

The Ace wasn’t helping.

Neither was that all-knowing girl.

This creature cared so much about her god. What did he have to say about him?

Finally, he settled on his dearest. Melody wasn’t helping, either. Her sweetness was delicacy, but now? Liability.

He darted forward at Rem, grabbing her shoulders and staring her down.

“YOU. Where is he.”

The all-knowing girl would have answers. She would have answers, or Anguó would really snap.
 
Little Red
scene:
Broken Fingers Hold Blood Money
location:
West District
date:
Post-Arc 3 | July 1st, 2022
participants:
Red, Pei, Callista, Leaf(s)
Broken Fingers Hold Blood Money

It really was a miracle.

Red idly swung her legs back and forth like the synchronous bobs of a pendulum. She donned a sailor’s cap and dress, decorated with silver ribbons and embroidery. In her lap sat her cherished teddy bear, of which she had bought for this mission.

All of these things were practically second nature to Red. But she still clenched her jaw as she looked across the leather seats.

Pei. Ellie’s demon-elf lookin’ ass sponsee. That SON-OF-A-BITCH!

Red had never been inclined towards cannibalism. She still wasn’t, but she understood the urge to bite someone’s head off. Pei was an evil that ascended to test her specifically. She didn’t know how the hell his little friends were so kind while he wasn’t, but she chose not to question the difference.

Regardless, it was truly a miracle that she could sit in the car without lunging at him. While her own life was a pretty good incentive not to strike, there was something else.

He swore up and down that there was something going on in there. Predators marking flesh of prey. While Red thought she knew better than to trust a devil—a REAL devil, not ones like Jerry—she knew she would never forgive herself if she allowed injustice to fester.

So she brought the clothes, plotted out her game plan (find these traffickers, and kill ‘em! Easy peasy), and gave herself an alias:

Margaret.

So, all that was left was to keep her temper. He couldn’t get to her if she didn’t snap, she figured.

And it was gonna be easy. Amidst the bickering of the Leafs, there was a tiny high pitched snicker.

Her sponsee didn’t have much of a presence himself. She figured that was what made him an excellent candidate for the job—he was quiet and focused. A good anchor for a concoction of personality. Albeit, it was hilarious that his alternate selves were so different.

“Don’tcha worry!” Red pressed a finger into her cheekbone. “I’ll make sure things go perfectly! I’ve always been a good daughter, mhm~!”

“KEKEKEKEKEK!” Abruptly, the manically blonde who had somehow, up to this point had kept his mouth mostly shut, a calm and collected demeanor that he never displayed, contrasting the ridiculous attire he wore. Tears came out from the corner of his eyes as brought a hand up to his face in his loud cackle, “You’re just an old hag playing dress-up! Stop trying to act like you’re a pretty princess, granny!”

Her eyebrows flattened as her bright smile dropped to a scowl. The comment caught her so off guard that it was practically instinct when she hurled her bear-shaped projectile at Pei’s cackling face.

Anticipating the retaliation, Pei raised one of his hands and sprawling his spindly fingers to catch the plush before it hit his face, letting the last bits of his laugh come up from his throat before he stopped, “Kekekek. Still, seeing as this plan depends on you acting like a dumbass kid, I guess I can’t complain!” he remarked, shaking the bear between his fingers before casually tossing it in whatever direction he felt like.

Even though the counter hit Callista and not her, Red was positively fuming. She stroked the poor teddy bear and shot a glare at him, forgetting she was the one who had originally thrown it. After a few seconds of this, her focus left Pei and she let out a vaguely aggressive groan.

“WHEN’RE WE STOPPIN’!?” She shouted, before spinning around to look out the tinted limousine windows. Her tomato-red face cooled off as she started spotting more fancy cars. They were in there, somewhere. “I’m fixin’ ta gut some sharks…”

The limo slowed to a stop. Red shuffled her way to the exit, taking Leaf 20’s hand before she hopped down. She took her place in Callista’s embrace, hugging her teddy bear in a chokehold.

When they entered the hall, Red’s focus honed in on every guest. Her eyes darted around as she wore a saccharine smile. If there was something suspicious going on, she was going to spot it.



 
Little Red
scene:
Two Birds On A Wire
location:
Shady's Motel, South District
date:
November 18th, 2020
participants:
Little Red, Jun
Two Birds On A Wire

FUCK THIS GUY.

Red would normally be neutral when interacting with people like this. They were good, from as far as she could tell. But he was boring as shit.

She didn’t want to hear another drone about that goddamn hurricane. She was OVER IT. Remembering it only brought her grief, of which she could only release when she was alone. And she sure as hell wasn’t alone NOW.

She was more than ready to be rid of his presence. However, she couldn’t ignore the advice she was left with.

Apparently, no one else wanted him. He was like some poor, stray mutt that no one wanted. That probably had rabies or something severe like that.

But then there was that quip.

‘Don’t forget to duck.’

Now what the Sam Hill did that mean!?

Red wouldn’t know until she saw the boy. So, she resolved to enter the room. She was hardly cautious, with her arms sharp at her sides and her neck craned to get a better look. The door shutting swiftly behind her didn’t frighten her, and nor would anything else. She balled up her fists as she watched the silhouette in silence.

…She should probably open with niceties.

“Good mornin’... kid. What’s yer name again?” She tried to inject some peppiness into her voice, but even she could tell something was lacking.

But that wouldn’t matter, because of what happened next.

No answer.

“Hey. HEY.” Red started raising her voice, offended that he couldn’t even spare her a glance. Was this what she got for trying to be polite? She stomped right up to his side, finally able to spot the culprit. She couldn't help herself—she was far quicker to rage now. With a quick yank, the red earbud was out of his ear.

The only thing he was about to hear was a high-pitched shout. “HEY! I’M TALKIN’!!”


 
Little Red
scene:
Misery Hates Company
location:
WcDonald’s!, South District
date:
November 30th, 2021 | Pre-Arc 3 | Morning
participants:
Red, Leaf, Je-Je (NPC)
Misery Hates Company

Red tapped her foot on the black and white tile floors. She really didn’t wanna talk to this guy if it didn’t involve taking her order. His attitude was sour—so what if she was wearing a nice dress!? Wasn’t her fault that no one in New Oasis knew how to dress their damn selves.

So it was especially annoying that her new sponsee knew this man personally.

When Leaf tried to introduce them to each other, Red couldn’t decide who she wanted to glare disappointedly at. On one hand, this guy—this ‘Jay-Jay’—looked plain stupid. It was evidence enough he’d been smoking the Devil’s lettuce, but the pink that rimmed his eyes wasn’t helping. High school, high school, high school—Red had never BEEN to any damn high school. Why the fuck would she give a damn about Leaf’s high school buddy? And that was exactly why she also considered staring down Leaf, who was allowing this to happen so easily.

Their rapport was annoying. A distraction.

Maybe this was the test. Or maybe it was part of it, because Red couldn’t think up anything without her hunger stabbing holes in her thoughts.

Red skipped up to the register and leaned forward on her crossed arms. All this guy could see of her was from the neck up. She looked up at him with sparkling eyes, trying to discern something. Anything.
AjT0gJZ.png
Red’s left eye twitched. That was enough to annoy her out of trying. She cleared her throat before she started talking with her eyes shut, like tilting the glassy eyes of a baby doll. “Okay Jay-Jay~! Can I have a Double Decker burger meal with large fries, onion rings, a vanilla soft serve cup with chocolate syrup, a large Blue Bubble soda, and a cookie? Please?”

Seconds after she laid her monstrous order on Je-Je, she left Leaf to his own devices. She started fiddling with the gumball machine that was smack in the middle of the restaurant. Red took a quarter out of her pocket, inserting it.

While it looked like she was occupied with the red gumball that was rolling down the metal slide, she was watching. She watched to see what Leaf’s next move would be. She watched the plastic playground, and watched for others watching it. Somewhere within the chaos, she would discern the solution to her little dilemma.

 
Eisyu Ito (NPC)
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

“Chicken, chicken, do we have any steak…?”

Eisyu scanned the fridge, wondering if he counted wrong the last time he checked it. He was almost certain there was another sliver of steak left.

But as quickly as he thought of it, it faded into the recess of his mind. There were bigger fish to fry.

Getting those words out hurt far more than he was expecting. He finally acknowledged that shadow. Years ago, he thought that silence was resolve; hope. That if he waited long enough, she would come to him.

He regretted what he hadn’t done.

Now, it was too late. His daughter was more willing to stand into the pouring rain than talk to him. If he tried going after her, she would probably just run away.

Ah, there it was. Eisyu grabbed the small shrink-wrapped package of leftover steak, along with one of the chicken breasts.

When Eisyu had come back from the kitchen, a lot had changed. The young man had gone from looking vaguely bored to looking like the life had been drained from him.

He was soaked in rainwater, through every layer of his clothes. He hadn’t noticed his return—he was too busy staring into the counter to notice. His eyes were draped over by the curtain of wet hair that clung to his face.

“What happened?” The question was so simple. He hadn’t felt anything while asking it, but now that it was asked, something felt…

…wrong.


 
MUGEN
SCENE:
The Game
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | July 3rd
LOCATION:
West District | The Precipice
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Mugen, Li
THE GAME
He had remained silent all the way from the foyer where he had left Pinhead, his one-time benefactor, until they arrived at his room. His footsteps made no sound, left no impression. He had spared neither glance nor attention to the passers by; they were beneath his notice. His eyes trained forward. Only forward.

"Mm..." The large man hummed, giving the smaller one an inscrutable sidelong look before he turned to fully face the open door leading to his semifinal destination.

Standing on the threshold of that decadent suite, he turned up his chin at the opulence. He sniffed the air like a dog. The strong scents of perfume and citrus filled his wrinkling nostrils; they furrowed his brow. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, a conclusion was drawn. A risk was calculated. A decision handed down based on that unseen calculus.

Mugen entered the room and sat on the floor beside the glass table, facing the hall where Eenie remained standing. From there, he appeared like a predator at rest. Utterly at ease, secure in the knowledge that nothing hunted him. His form did not disturb even the fibers of the carpeted floor on which he lounged.

Ignoring all the room's amenities—the plush sofa, the gleaming bar, the tub of hot water—he lifted a hand to the man in the doorway. It was a simple gesture that carried the weight of command.

It beckoned.

A test. An invitation.

There was only one right answer.

 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
New Phoenix Golden Age
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Musai, Yong-Yut, Hitoshi, Helva, Bolt, Hector, Milo, Pei
NEW PHOENIX GOLDEN AGE

”Boustan? Never been. Gotta assign myself next time. And yeah, he is.” Hector looked over to Milo, merciful enough not to single him out as well, but smiling in his direction. Somehow, against all odds, they had made things work after that fateful day, though he was unsure if he could ever let his guard down fully. ”Trained him, so I'd expect nothing less.” Hector nodded at Hitoshi’s proposal. ”You know where to find me,” he responded with a nod.

He leaned back from the group as Boltius spoke to him.

”Well, we’ve got some of the strongest and sharpest in the crowd, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

”Aye. And we’ve been standing here waiting, so instead of beating around the bush, you could tell us?”

The woman at the front had spoken up again, having overheard. She beamed a smile at the two.

”Alright, maybe it’s time then.” Hector straightened his back, looking across the crowd. The people closer to the front took notice quickly, and those further back followed suit, the chatter quietening to whispers. ”Okay, I want to say thank you all again for coming, especially without too much notice.”

”I know it’s been a hard couple years since our empire fell. It ain’t been easy for anyone. Lyric, Reika, Alex, Boltius, and I had been working tirelessly since then to build back to where we were, and we had a lot of progress to build back up to.”

”When Reika was injured last September, I stepped up as Queen, and I spent that time trying to avenge her, and give her a good sight to wake up to. I met some of you in May, and I promised this would be the beginning of a new Phoenix golden age… But I know this month has been difficult, and I’m afraid we still have no news on Lyric or Alex’s status.”

Nobody expected otherwise, but the mood still dropped.

”I-” Hector hesitated, staring at the sea of frowns. ”I know what they would want us to do, though. They’d want us to keep going. And thats what I intend on doing. We’ll get our momentum back, we’ll get back to full strength, and we’ll achieve our Golden Age! WHO’S WITH ME?”

It was hard to shake off the despondency, but the crowd voiced their approval with cheers and the pumping of fists. Of course, not everyone was so enthusiastic, but Hector ran with what he had. He lowered his voice and turned to his Ace.

”Bolt, would you like to say a few words?”

Now that the time had come to announce his intentions, the thing he had spent a decade dreaming of, he was suddenly keen to prolong it.
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Bitter Aftertaste
LOCATION:
The Cerulean Orchid, South District
TIME:
Nighttime, Post Arc 3 June 7th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Callista, Eric
Bitter Aftertaste
"Oh, so that's what this is all about, eh?" It may have sounded heavily sarcastic to most, but the sudden realization from the detective was nothing but genuine. As hard as it might be to believe from such a cool, dashing and talented man, Eric had never been in a relationship, let alone ever having sex. Was he just a loser in the field of love? Probably not, he'd been confessed to and hit on by women in the past, few men, even. But he never cared to reciprocate, somehow the interest just wasn't there. Was he perhaps what in the last decade or so has been on the rise by the title of an asexual? He frankly couldn't tell, it wasn't like he was necessarily against the idea, but the proper person to peek his interest might've just not yet appeared. And what about the gorgeous woman sitting in front of him right now? Well, who knows. "We'll see how that goes, then." He let out the faintest of smiles, an indicator that the so called Rose had, at the very least, earned herself the title of attention-worthy.

The night was young, and adventure called forth with more challenges to drink. The deep blue drink was eye-catching to say the least, its stem quickly found held between Eric's fingers. "Sounds good, I'm all about games, after all." He leaned casually, his elbow resting atop the counter, an index tracing along the rim of his drink in a circular motion. "Like we've discussed before, not many can afford to stay up this late during a week day, so what does Miss Mystery do for work, exactly?"

He wasn't exactly a connosieur in the realm of truth or drink, usually the he and the boys bother more with getting to the drinking as quickly as possible. He thought only proper to start with a mostly neutral, and simple question. Not like he wasn't entirely uninterested in her actual answer, however.


Wxnter Wxnter
 
(NPC) Debora Hillclad
SCENE:
Everyone's a Critic
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 9th 2022
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Takakazu
Everyone's a Critic
"I mean...I wouldn't REALLY call it an interview...I'd say it's more of..." Her eyes trailed into nothingness, her head shifting back slowly, twirling her pen between her fingers. "An exchange between creatives!" She leaned closer, her pen playfull pointed at the illustrious critic. "I'm a craftswoman, you are a wordsmith, it's only natural that we get to know each other like this, you know?" She added, her eyes closed and arms folded as she nodded to herself in affirmation.

Her own patting on her back stopped, shoulders draping down as the man elaborated on the complications of his answers. To be quite frank, this man was something of a pain to deal with, like a very small part of him felt like the staff he said were being pulled out of his ass. Yet, a lot of his affirmations rang true, or at the very least, fell very much in line with the other claims she's heard from critics in the past.

And besides that, as hazy as it might be, the man's mind was holding nothing short of a true treasure trove of artworks. It was incredibly nebulous, so he must be extremely lacking in terms of practical skills or training, but creativity lands within the mind, and his untapped potential was a sight to (partially) behold.

Debora couldn't wait to milk this loser for all that he was worth. ♡

But first, she needed keywords; The more she obtained, the more the mental fog would dissipate, and if she wanted to get anywhere with this plan, the grand artist would have to follow the man's whims. "Alright, sounds fair enough, consider yourself lucky, you'll get to see some Hillclad originals before anyone else~". Should one possess supernatural hearing, they might've been able to catch a low "bullshit." from within the wooden wardrobe.

She set off from the couch with a playful wink, skipping through the length of the offce towards a large curtain residing in the middle of the wall. She clutched at one of the ends, gently pulling back, the brass rings grabbing a hold of the cloth smoothly sliding through the curved bar. Debora smirked as the painting was unveiled.


Sin título.png


She leaned her back against the painting, the arm almost seductively grabbing backwards at the upper corner of the canvas. "Fufufu...What do you think? Felt like doing something a little more expressionist that day, I call it 'Naivety Under Sunset', what do you think, oh handsome critic?"
 
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CHARLIE HUGHES
CS Link
SCENE:
To Live in the Shadows
TIME:
Daytime, Pre-Arc 1, June 25th, 2020
LOCATION:
Charlie's apartment, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Helva
To Live in the Shadows
It was a morning not much unlike all others, starting off with a deep yawn as Charlie's cheeks were kissed by the gentle sunlight, his back feeling somewhat stiff from the middling sleep quality that his old, cheap mattress provided.

He rummaged around his shoebox of an apartment. Taking a shower, putting on some of his skincare creams, drying his hair, and most importantly, changing his wounds' bandages for a fresh new batch. His injuries were mostly closed up by now, Fortunately none of them ever getting infected, he still needed to be a bit careful and not overdoit too much, but for the most part he was now a-ok.

It was around noon that a package was sent to his door, he wondered what was the deal with it, as he didn't remember ordering anything online recently...or in a very long time, rather. His doubts were soon cleared, as a message popped up on his phone, from a number he neither had registered nor recognized.

Reading it's contents was like a bucket of cold water suddenly splashing his face. It wasn't like he had forgotten about the trial, but Charlie would've been lying if he didn't admit that Revenant's financial aid on top of his time recovering at home, the boy had grown somewhat...complacent, or rather relaxed during the last two weeks. While the task ahead hung over his head like a personal rain cloud, he continued with his day for the time being, not much he could do until the clock hit the designated hour.

Hours passed, the clock signaling nearing the unlocking time. Charlie sat on his bed, the only place in his small place that properly served as a seat, arms and legs alike crossed as he stared intently at the locked case. His impatience at some point urging him to just bust the thing open...But he couldn't afford the risk of possibly having to repay for the vessel, and it certainly didn't look cheap.

With a high pitched blipping sound, the locks on the case opened at last, the boy sparing no second to desperately open it and reach for the device. Just moments later he was already out of his place, running down the stairs and onto the streets, hoping the 5-minute headstart would let him get this done easier. It wasn't his first time giving chase to someone across South District, and was dead set on making the woman in black proud.




Peckinou Peckinou
 
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CAMILA GASPARI
CS Link
SCENE:
Not Quite Pet Sitting
TIME:
Post-Arc 2, January 2nd 2022
LOCATION:
Nighttime, Invaded factory, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Dante Aguilar
Not Quite Pet Sitting
Camila's gaze was one of underlying curiosity, not quite sure what the rookie attempted to achieve by waving his arms in the air like some kind of delusional middleschooler. The answer came through wordlessly soon enough, sounds that would be deemed as terrifying in the dead of night coming from behind the veteran, her body went stiff for a moment, before slowly regaining her composure. She peeked over her cover and past the corner, the guard overwhelmed by an enshrouding darkness, a sight most nightmarish to those alienated by the violent side of this world.

"Hoooo..." Camila, however, simply stared in amusement at the rookie's display of power, closely following behind his approach of the assaulted guard. "Not bad, kid." She added, leaning over beside him as to get a closer and clearer look of their victim. "Better respond honestly, buddy, we will know if you're bullshitting." And such threat was no mere bluff, as the woman had developed quite the knack for spotting deceitful behavior. Not too surprising when you have several years under your belt dealing with treacherous and backstabbing criminals claiming to be your allies.

The guard closed his eyes, a moonlight-bathed, fear-fueled tear trailing down his cheek as he nodded in confirmation. Camila stared at the man with piercing eyes, a judgemental stare quite possibly deciding on the man's life. Like traveling cracks on stone, her lips formed a wide smirk. "Sounds good, i'd say it's our best bet now."

She walked over to the factory's wall, staring at a serviceable square hole that used to be part of the large window. First she peeked her head inside, making sure no one was around to spot her stealthy entrance. Once she was confident of the area's relative lack of surveillance, she wiggled her way inside. It was an easy task given a combination of her lithe frame and flexible constitution. She eventually peeked her head out, sparing Dante a nonchalant look.

"Let's meet at the main door, I should be able to open it for you without making a whole scene." She looked behind her for a moment, taking in the proportions of the building from the inside. "Shouldn't be too hard to get to the office as long as we don't fuck up, I'll also make sure to count how many dickheads we're dealing with got it?"

Haze- Haze-
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
You Know The Rules, And So Do I
LOCATION:
Some Park, Central District
TIME:
Post Arc 3 || July 1st 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Eric
YOU KNOW THE RULES, AND SO DO I
Faint as it might've been, Eric's gaze turned ever so slightly more serious, his nearly non-existent smile extinguishing into a true deadpan expression. "So that's how it's gonna be, wouldn't expect any less from the queen himself, however." The hook traveled through the air at nearly blinding speeds, but the acute eyes of the detectve just barely managed to read its trajectory. He swing his forearm, the side of the cuff clinking against the ferrous threat, pushing it aside. "Don't really plan on dying today, unfortunately." He took a step forward, lowering his torso and his center of gravity, like a sprinter ready to take off. "And more importantly, you're not laying a single finger on my buddies."

He rushed forward, hurried footwork closing the distance between them. A ball of light on Eric's hand exploded, causing a blinding flashbang. Regardless on whether or not the move was effective on the Phoenix, he continued to get closer even further, all the way to grappling distance, in where the officer of the law wasted no time attempting to throw over Hector's balance, and to push him into the ground.

Catching Hector would be another great victory for law enforcement, that much was true, but Eric's true motivation was the safety of the officers just now walking out of their vehicles. He had enough of his comrades falling victims of the red bird's cruelty and viciousness. He aimed to get the Queen's wrists into proper position to force the handcuffs onto him, Eric's barbaric approach being pretty alien to his usual fightstyle.

WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
Last edited:
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
New Phoenix Golden Age
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
TIME:
July 20th, 2022 | | Post-Outbreak
PARTICIPANTS:
Bolt, Hector, Helva, Hitoshi, Milo, Musai, YY
New Phoenix Golden Age

“Kekekekekek…”



He couldn’t hold it in.



“Kekekekekekek.”



It was just far too funny.



Pei’s hand held onto his chest, and his whole body kneeled over as if he had come down with terrible food poisoning. He chuckled under his breath the best he could as everyone thought back on the tragedies that the Phoenixes had endured. Every time their flame extinguished, their wings were plucked, and they would burn again and rise.



Seeing the sadness in people’s faces made him chuckle, but the cheers that came over finally made him burst. His whole body leaned backward, his hands coming to his hips as his raspy cackle left his lungs.



“KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK! A golden age, huh!? I fuckin’ like it! Real catchy! Flows right off the damn tongue!He exclaimed, uncaring for the numerous different looks he was getting as he interrupted what was transpiring, dropping his head back down to look towards Hector with his snaggle-toothed, demonic smile.



“I’m sure things will be different now that you’re in charge! Rising through the ashes is what this is all about, right!?” Pei proposed the question but didn’t seem interested in hearing the answer as he shoved his hands into his pockets, small chuckles still leaving his lips.



“Everyone else in the past wasn’t suitable, but now that you’re in the seat, it’s time for things to change! That’s how it should be done! That's how its ALWAYS been done!” Pei continued, his slouched posture paired with that malicious glint in his eyes, examining the response of the Queen closely.



“Does a new crown and a new throne make a new nation? Are we a flock of chickens? Kekekekek. Maybe that hurricane turned everyone flightless,” Pei’s eyes took a moment to glance through the crowd. He recognized many faces, even if they didn’t know him; the looks he was getting dictated the situation clearly. He was becoming a nuisance, and that thought didn’t seem to disturb him; it only made him more amused.



Uninvited, unknown, he was doing nothing but being an eyesore.



“Kekekekek, a Golden Age, has always been defined as a time of great achievements,” Pei remarked, turning himself around as he strolled away from the congregation, giving side-eyes to people as he passed.



“But a dark age is never well documented, so I hope your takin’ notes, fuckheads.”



Decline and incline always depended on where you were in relation. Gravity brought one down or raised one up depending on how close you were to its center. Such things were only natural.



Within a space like this, perspective is purposeless. The world would unfurl itself all the same, and the laws of science would never change. History was always going to be in place.



Pei left the party to turn his back on the “golden age.” Embracing the lights that basked down on him, leading the way towards the door, his face reflecting off the golden accents that polished candlesticks and doorknobs.



He came as purposeless as he left, with nothing to provide except his madman ramblings. The world would continue to turn. And the ashes would continue to burn.

 
Last edited:
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
Broken Fingers Hold Blood Money
LOCATION:
West District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | | July 1st, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Pei, Red, Leaf(s), Callista
Broken Fingers Hold Blood Money

The limo eventually reached the end of its destination, and the door was opened to allow the esteemed guests to make their entrance. No red carpet awaited them, but they strode through like they owned the place regardless.

Callista, Red, and Leaf. They had all chosen to play their parts, husband, wife, and daughter. An amusing idea, one that he had spent hours laughing about every time he looked at the trio, and for about the first 30 minutes into the limo ride, he had tears in his eyes every time he looked at them before eventually bringing himself into calculating silence.

He had a plan, and he would need his own disguise for it.

The trio members had already made their way out of the limo, but the door was held open for one last, and he didn’t seem to be in a rush. There was a long space between their exit and his entrance, so it seemed he might not be coming.

Finally, a stocking-clad leg made its way out of the door.

“Kekekekekek,” the telltale cackle dictated to the owner before the rest of the body followed. A puffy black and white layered skirt held on the man’s thin hips, the frilly headdress upon his hair, an apron draping down his chest.

Down from head to toe, Pei had decided to dress himself as a maid.

Why?

“Because it’s fun, of course!” Pei declared, looking towards the screen and breaking the fourth wall as he cackled at his own antics. A pair of onlookers walking down the sidewalk paused and blinked as they saw him, confusion about many different aspects of the whole thing, but as Pei’s head turned like an owl's to look at them, his mouth hanging to show off his jagged teeth, they both quickly looked at each other before speed walking off.

Like a damsel, Pei pulled up his skirt, running up the steps to catch up with the others. He joined them as they all entered the building together. The large door acted as the barrier between the outside world and the interior, and once removed, it allowed the sounds of music, chatter, and clinking glasses to fill their eardrums.

While everyone else was taking in the scenery, Pei didn’t hesitate to pull out a small toy camera. Its hands and legs seemed just for show, but as it let out a loud snore from its non-existent mouth, it was clear it was just another Playmate. With a hard flick against the camera’s back, it switched alive, and immediately, Pei brought it to his face to swirl in front of the trio.

“Say cheese! Kekekekek!”
Was the only warning they got before he started taking a multitude of pictures, leaning downward, jumping up, crouching on the floor, spinning around, and weaving his way between them to get every possible angle as they were blinded by a series of flashes.

“Excuse me, ma’am--S-Sir!?!” A concerned servant quickly rushed over. His preconceptions of gender changed as his hands raised and lowered repeatedly to gesture for the blonde to stop. “Please, no pictures.”

Pei stopped mid-pose, letting his hands flop to his side as he stopped his transgression. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to listen with no retort, but as he slowly turned back to the servant with a grin, the sound of a click, as now within his other hand was a pink-colored pistol, which he shoved the barrel against the poor man’s forehead.

Sweat began to pour down the butler’s face, and a shrill scream came from him as he quickly turned and ran, nearly tumbling over as people looked over in confusion.

Like nothing happened, Pei shoved the gun into the sleeve of his dress, looking at his compatriots with a grin, raising his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, like a magic trick, fully developed photos were in his fingers, he showed them off, each giving a good view of the layout
of the main room, they found themselves in freeze frames of people stuck in time.

“Kekekekek. From what I saw of the floor plans, this whole building has over 50 rooms. I’m sure I don’t gotta tell you dipshits that we’re not checkin’ each and everyone,” Pei spoke to his “masters” with not a single inkling of respect, bringing one of the photos up closer to Red’s face, nearly shoving it as he pointed to a specific situation near the back of the room.

Two men traded something underneath the table. It looked like some type of paper card. A glance upward showed that the man receiving the card had gotten up and was approaching one of the side doors. He talked to one of the butlers standing in front and was swiftly let inside.

“Like I told ya, there’s some type of underground trafficking ring goin’ on here. Those dumbasses are probably using a “marking card,” they figure out the deal on the upside where things are clean and then finish the trade underground. Even a kid could figure that shit out,” Pei sounded uninterested in the whole thing, giving a flick of his wrist to toss the photo in Red’s face, letting her do whatever she wanted with the information as he turned his head up to look at Callista from his leaning position.

“As for your mark, he could be anywhere. Think his cocky ass will scamper off when he hears you here, or will he come and try and flaunt in front of your face? Kekekekek, either way, sounds good to me,” Pei stated, placing his hands on his hips.

Finding one secret deal in this whole building would be a problem for anyone else. But for Pei, he wanted to make it as easy as possible. The sooner Callista and Red got what they wanted, he could get what he wanted.

“Kiys,” Pei said barely above a whisper. And on cue, a ruffle within his chest, as if his heart had ripped out and was crawling up his throat, the demonic face of the crimson bat popped out from his collar.

“Kikikiki! You called!?”

“Go take a fly around the building. Look through any windows you can; see if you can spot that sparkly bitchass,”
Pei ordered, using his foot to open the door slightly.

“Roger! Kikiki!” With a quick salute, the bat pried itself from its clothing nest, flying out the door in a blur of red. With that dealt with, Pei turned his attention back towards the others, giving them a knowing glare.

“Right now, the name of the game is recon! Focus on finding out the most about your target, and then strike! Let’s fuckin’ kill 'em out there!’ Pei declared, giving a specific smirk towards Callista as he straightened his posture, We’re gonna be counting on you and those connections, Reinshart! Kekekekekekek!”

He was enjoying himself just a bit too much.


 
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

He knew what happened.

He tried to think of the alternatives. She had gone home by herself. She had decided to take a walk. She had to use the bathroom.

None of these things made sense. The cigarette still smoked. It had not been snuffed; it had been left and was forgotten.

A bad feeling, he had always ignored them. The feeling that something wasn’t right. He had felt it ever since he had taken the job. It was supposed to be what he was used to, a simple debt, “repossession.” He had brought Hiachi with him because she knew the area better than him.

He wasn’t expecting to suddenly be attacked by a whole swarm of guys. It was almost as if they were expecting him. He had pushed the thought aside; it was just his unfortunate luck doing what it usually did, putting him in the worst scenario. So he didn’t question it; he simply took it on the chin. Today would be another day, as would tomorrow and the next. It was just another job, the same as it ever was.

But now he had to face reality. Something was wrong. His brain followed the train of thought. He knew how the world worked, how the streets got revenge, and how the corners took their victims.

Someone wanted him. But it wasn’t just about him anymore.

She was there too; they had already seen her face.

His fists clenched, his teeth gritted, his whole body bristling with emotions that bubbled underneath the surface, untamed and left to fester. Words barely managed to escape from his tightened jaw.

It was his fault.


“They took her…”


“They took Hiachi.”






???
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


The black car drove down the road. It went the speed limit, and there was a lack of rush as it made its way through the back streets. Treads swallowed and spit out the puddles of water that soaked into the streets; window wipers moved across the windshield, brushing away the splatters of rainfall across its vision.

The man wore sunglasses at night but had the maturity to remove them while driving at night, at least when he was with a passenger. His black eyes focused on the road, steering with one hand as his other rested his elbow on the dash.

Subtle radio music played through the speakers. Its faint tune, paired with the pattering of rain against the window, ignited feelings of nostalgic comfort. It would almost be nice if it weren’t for the circumstances.

The man had been silent for most of the ride until this point, but as if a threshold had finally been reached, he extended a gloved hand towards the back seat, opening his palm expectantly. A figure in the back was obscured within the darkness.

“Mind if I see your phone? I need to make a business call.”

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Everyone's A Critic
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
DATE:
June 30th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila ( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Takakazu
Everyone's A Critic

Despite stumbling through the whole “critic” act, Hillclad’s receptiveness filled him with relief. He was starting to think he was really good at this espionage stuff. If he could actually afford a suit, he could even be a super spy. Either forgetting or choosing to ignore it, he did have a nice, expensive suit before he decided to ruin it with his art project.

“Hoh, an original? Deborah, you dame!” Tak did his best to sound interested, rubbing his hands together expectantly as he strolled behind to follow Hillclad’s stride, his eyes moving away from her to look towards the curtain partition. He had assumed something was behind there, like a wooden horse and some handcuffs, but it was simply another one of her paintings instead of anything that kinky.

Tak’s eyes glazed over the artwork, his lips pursed together, chin scrunching up as he examined it thoroughly. He looked long as if the more he perceived, the picture would eventually float off the canvas and speak to him.

“Hmm,” he hummed before taking a step forward, “Allow me to get a closer look…”

As Tak raised his foot up, his foot got tangled within the curtains hiding the painting previously; the lack of friction swiped his feet up from under him, and soon after, he fell. His arms flailed around, looking for anything to grab onto, and reflexively, he reached outward, his hands grasping onto the sides of Hillclad’s painting, but as gravity continued to pull him downward, the painting came tumbling with him, and as the canvas got caught on the easel keeping it propped up.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPP.

“Clumsy me,” Tak spoke as if he was some type of cartoon ditz, giving a slight shrug from his position on the ground, but with a look at Hillclad’s face, he realized something was amiss. He blinked once, his eyelids audibly making contact as he slowly turned his head to look toward what was in his hands.

A massive void is torn out from the center of the painting, the sun is torn out of the sky, and instead, a gaping hole in the canvas is left.

Tak slowly crawled himself up to his feet from his knees, twisting around the painting between his hands as if changing its position would make the hole go away. He calmly placed the painting back onto its wooden easel as if nothing happened.

Clearing his throat, he turned back to look at Hillclad, giving her an awkward smile.

“Uh…sorry about that. I think that piece was quite fantastic, though,” he remarked, turning to look at the damaged painting, making a frame with his fingers as he closed one eye.

“Maybe this can be the start of a new art movement. You can coin it as “reality tearing!” breaking the fourth wall! Place it on top of another piece and use the hole to make it a layered creation! Redefine how we view a piece through just the second dimension!”

Tak threw out ridiculous ideas and futility, attempting to redeem the situation.


 
LAZLO SHEPHERD
SCENE:
The Only Difference Between Cream and Custard Filling Is One Is Better Than The Other
LOCATION:
Unfortunate Donut Shop, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lazlo, Tak
The Only Difference Between Cream and Custard Filling Is One Is Better Than The Other
“I’LL SUE YOU! YOU’LL BE IN DEBT TEN GENERATIONS DOWN THE LINE WHEN I’M THROUGH WITH YOU!”

Lazlo wailed, red in the face from the sheer fury, heart ready to burst into a hundred pieces. He had covered his head when the shelf flew his way but was unprepared to run when both shelves collided and rained donuts and debris down on him. As he began his desperate escape, his foot stepped in a mass of custard, and he went flying back first to the floor. His exposed face was the perfect target for all the displaced donuts to fall onto as he continued to kick and yell.

“Eh?”

Lazlo felt a vibration ripple across the floor, and at the same time, the donuts had finally stopped falling onto him. With an exhausted groan, he rolled onto his front, looking as the enemy got his comeuppance.

“Yeah! Get him! Show him who’s boss.”

His joy dissipated quickly as he looked up at the baker. It seemed the perfect time to make a hasty retreat, but he hadn’t run in years, and the floor was still a slip n slide. Lazlo was helpless to his fate, clawing at the ground as he was dragged towards the back, quick to change his tune.

“Hey! Get your hands off me! You don’t know who you’re messing with, buddy!”

As Lazlo wriggled on the ground like a fish out of water, he brought his wrist up to his face. He was going to be late for work. Soon, the cold floor got away from him, and Lazlo realised he was now in the air before being placed firmly on his feet. His instinct was to start walking out of there, but the hand was still on his collar, and he nearly fell right back over as a sharp tug pulled him back.

“Not so fast. You’re not leaving here until this place looks the same as it did before you two walked in here.”

Only then did Lazlo take in his new surroundings. Dough, and equipment to work with the dough. Fryers. Toppings, and delicious, delicious icings. This was… This was heaven. All the donuts he could eat. He was just like Charlie Bucket. Then reality dawned on him. This was manual labour. He was in hell.

“Look uhhhh, I think we’ve all had some time to learn our lessons. I’m sorry for the damages, sorry ‘bout the donuts, even sorry for that guy, yadda yadda.” Lazlo patted himself down, feeling for a wad of bills in one of his pockets, and reached it back at Lou. “If this ain’t enough I’ll write you a check or something. I don’t work in kitchens. I got a guy who does that for me.”

“You’re not paying your way out of this one. I want you to go through what I go through every day.”
 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Blank Canvas
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3: September 30th, 2021 - 11pm
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Milo, Hector
BLANK CANVAS
"Wait a second," Milo said to Hector. To the pair of strangers before them. To himself. Surely, this was all just a simple understanding. Surely, this could be resolved peacefully. Surely, this didn't need to end in a fight.

Just wait a second..!

Milo stopped just shy of stepping between Hector and the strange man. Based on Hector's words and body language, Milo could tell he had already made up his mind about what to do with these two masked interlopers. Based on the way one of them was speaking, it seemed like the feeling was at least partly mutual. But the other...

"Listen," Milo began, directing his attention to the seemingly reasonable half of the mirrored pair. If he could convince Hector, maybe this one could to the same for his compatriot. This need not escalate further. "Why don't we take a minute and think. This doesn't have to turn out badly for anyone."

 

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