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

[Caffeine_Obsessed]

NIKOLAI NOVAK

CS Link

SCENE:

Revenge Best Served à La Mode

TIME:

6:15 PM || November 7, 2019 || Pre-arc 1

LOCATION:

Novak's Dilapidated Mansion

PARTICIPANTS:

Nikolai, Naomi

Revenge Best Served à La Mode

The orange rays of the setting sun washed upon the dark decrepit walls of the Novak mansion. No light could be seen from any window, the moss and vines overgrowing on the walls and glass the only color to the estate. A soft breeze only helped sell the desolate chilly building all the worse.

Nikolai sat on his loveseat near the unlit fireplace, a whiskey in one hand and in the other, a cigarette mere inches from his face. The burning butt the only light in the room. The gloved man stared unwaveringly into the fireplace, two plumes of smoke escaping his nostrils. There was a furrow in his brow and a frown on his face, clearly upset.

It had been barely a week, yet it had been the worst week his pride could take. Despite his employee's best effort at a defense, the media had run wild with the news. Nikolai sucked the cloud of smoke into his lungs, exhaling the burning substance with a spiteful snarl. That fucking bitch stole his design, hell- it could have even been designs! That was the only explanation for how that godforsaken Jeremy Fritz- that knave- got his slimy little hands on it. What- just because Nikolai said that model's- was her name Mellie? Melda? not like it mattered- gait was like a dying pelican? The nerve of some people.

With a shout, he threw his have filled glass of whiskey at the fireplace, jerking up from his seat and onto his feet with unsteady legs. With panting breaths, he straightened, pushing his hair back with his hand. He took another drag from his cigarette, his shaking hands cupping it to his face. He was already on his fourth one. He sucked his teeth, eying the door before calmly taking his place back on the loveseat. He had called Naomi, his employee and friend to come to his mansion. Though he wasn't expecting anything, he severely needed someone to rant to. He could already imagine the blood of both those fucking swines dripping down his arms. Now that was something he didn't mind washing off.

Spoiler: Tags

tityanya

 

[Lucem]

DAMIAN

CS Link

SCENE:

Laundromat Owner Will Die

LOCATION:

Laundromat, West District

TIME:

Wednesday, December 1st, 2021 || Post Arc-2

PARTICIPANTS:

Damian, Tri

LAUNDROMAT OWNER WILL DIE

In response to the King's shot, Damian raised two finger guns of his own. The tentacle on his back followed suit, doing its best to imitate the shape as it flicked its tip at Tri. Then the other massive, laundry-washing limbs slithered over and lined up nearby, taking aim like a nightmarish firing squad.

"Bang." He and his sucker-covered soldiers fired their invisible rounds. When they ran out of ammunition, the tentacles went back to work, making a mess of things as they experimented with more of the supplies. Meanwhile, Damian nodded to himself. Yes, that was nice. It was an interesting gesture, one he'd be sure to remember and use again. However, that would have to wait. Other topics held the majority of his interest at the moment.

He was already aware of Paris, having done many jobs on his behalf in the past. Like several other members of the Sable Serpents, he had come to the conclusion that the King's son was pulling most of the actual strings. That meant the heir was also worth keeping an eye on, but in Damian's opinion, the father was far more interesting. He was a much better source of entertainment and knowledge. In the man's own words, if Damian understood them correctly, Tri was more "cool".

Not all that curious about the Shadow King or the former King, he focused on what current one had to say about the things that came along with his rise to power. "Kill someone, hmm?" He raised a brow and tilted his head at Tri, still wearing a stitched-on smile.

"Someone specific, or just in general?" Murder wasn't anything special. Just like breathing and blinking, it was something insignificant a person could do without even thinking. However, Damian took an interest in the sudden bloodthirsty urge being tied to Tri's ascension.

Setting aside his question about the desire for carnage and conquest, he remembered Tri's other comments about the future. Power itself didn't really interest him, but Damian liked the sound of more weapons. "I'd like to see those weapons when the time comes. The ones I've seen so far are quite nice." Much better than boring guns. More interesting. More "cool".

Spoiler: Tags

Damafaud

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Kaede Shimokōbe

CS Link

SCENE:

Jingle Bells, Jingle Hell

LOCATION:

The Metropolitan Museum, Central district (?)

TIME:

December 26th 2013

PARTICIPANTS:

Hector Moses, Kaede Shimokōbe

Jingle Bells, Jingle Hell.

The Metropolitan Museum was seeing a peak in its visitors this night. The domed building which was otherwise rather unremarkable on the outside, had been decked out with tables of champagne on the inside. And the steps cut of stone that usually saw a slow trickle of footsteps were now ascended by not sneakers, but heels and dress shoes. All in the name of the 10th year anniversary that the museum was commemorating with a fundraiser. At the head of it was the Director of the museum: Klee Johanssen. He was a man in his mid 40s that had made waves with his hand in art dealings before he eventually decided to no longer be the mediator, but the buyer. Shortly thereafter he opened the Metropolitan Museum to function as his personal art closet while he was simultaneously pocketing subsidies from the Ministry of Culture.

Whether one should call the man, that was on the podium in front of the dome, a leech or a genius was a question for another day.

Kaede pulled the fur closer over exposed neck and cleavage where she stood at the edge of the crowd. She was just another woman in a dress, another guest there to enjoy the pleasantries (headache) of mingling. Because no one was there to appreciate the art really. Maybe one or two souls were. Judging from the overwhelming amount of designer clothes in the crowd, however, it was more likely that the majority was there to form connections. Connections with other people in power and to the supposed man that was pocketing subsidies as well as sensitive information on those very same people. Klee was a multitasker if nothing else.

The pitch torches flickered on the ground where they had been lined up to highlight the red carpet. It stretched all the way up to the top of the stairs where Klee had set up camp behind a microphone. The dome towered over him in the background and above his head fluttered snowflakes that were blotted out by the spotlights. The stairs might have been brushed free from the snow but it coated everything else outside of the range of the stone pavement.

Among those things that were ‘outside the range’ was the top of Kaede’s hair which had been gelled back into a slick ponytail. She inhaled a breath of embittered December air and diffused it through a glittering cloud of warm steam on the exhale. The brunette glanced at the youth that was her company for the night- Hector Moses. Her brows furrowed. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that she was in charge of babysitting him. A last-minute addition made by Lyric who argued that Kaede should show him the ropes of less ‘violent’ methods. A snort escaped her over the brief recall of the circumstances that had led to her current predicament. Stiff digits fished up a flat silver box out of the inner pocket of the fur coat and she popped it open. The engraved lid flipped back to reveal a row of cigarettes and Kaede picked one up. She put it in between red lips and exchanged the silver box for a lighter.

“You think he’ll take much longer with the speech?” Her thumb flicked over the sparkwheel, one time then two times. The opening spit out sparks but nothing else much to her frowning dismay and bluish fingertips.

Outfit x
WhiskeyMarten

 

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

http://

CS Link

SCENE:

Accidental Rumble

LOCATION:

North District, In a car

TIME:

Pre Arc-2 | September 17th 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Yuto, Sang-Cheol, Tri

Accidental Rumble

"Fuck..." Sang-Cheol groaned. Sitting up from his position, the scientist slowly began to gather his bearing. Everything started to come back, and a vein almost burst from his head. "God fucking damn it!" With one kick, he hit the hard steel cage. That fucking spider. Many curses were uttered for one specific Rookie from the Serpents as Sang-Cheol rose up. "Yuto. If you're out there! I'm going to fucking kill you!" Sang-Cheol screamed at the top of his lungs. His own yell, however, was drowned out by the yells of prisoners.

He needed fucking to get the hell out of here. Though when he dug into his pockets, Sang-Cheol found out that his pockets were entirely empty. His handgun, his brass knuckles, and everything was gone. Another thing that made the scientist even madder. He was going to raze the sewer, the people who put him in this cage, and the spider fuck in fucking pyre after he was out of here.

How was he going to tell Snake that the reason why he didn't come back to the Lab was that Mr. Spider Fuck Face made him crash into a building, and now he was in fucking fight club fighting for his life. Not to mention, who was going to fucking in charge of the Lab!? Snake often disappeared to his own personal Lab, which meant one of the idiotic five was in charge. Rebecca was in charge yesterday, Gerda the day before, Olivine, Timothy...

"Oh fuck." Aristotle. Aristotle was the one who was in charge of Lab Icarus. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." If that fucker was left to his devices, then Sang-Cheol wouldn't hear the end of shitty classical music. He needed to get out of there and get back to the Lab.

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

The House Always Wins

LOCATION:

West District, The White Tiger

DATE:

April 1, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Camila, Ryutaro, Jennifer, Alice

The House Always Wins

Hiachi tapped her index finger on the golden rim of the poker table. While the other players collectively either groaned in frustration or downed another shot of whatever they had been drinking, Hiachi cradled her head in her other hand, bored. She didn’t have the time to celebrate her win—she was already anticipating the next round.

In this sense, she wasn’t really gambling, was she? She wasn’t leaving anything to chance. She knew she was going to win. This wasn’t a game anymore—it was just another thing to add on her long list of monotonous daily tasks.

That wasn’t entirely true. It was fun to keep track of what cards everyone had, surveying her own, to predict what hand would bring her to victory. It was like a puzzle where she could win disproportionate amounts of money.

And the real experience was surveying her opponents. Everyone reacted differently to her monotone nature, Hiachi had known that ever since she was a kid. But in this instance, it was a bit different. Even a seasoned poker player would flinch at her stare. They would feel the pressure as she gazed into their eyes, like she was looking into their soul.

In reality, Hiachi was just looking for the reflection of the cards. But she felt energized by it. If she could pretend to be omnipotent, why wouldn’t she?

The card dealer began shuffling cards again, causing Hiachi’s eyes to dart back to reality. Now was the most important time to pay attention. When she looked around the table again, two of the players that had been sitting a seat away from her had been replaced.

The first was a man who sat with a vertical posture, and still managed to look relaxed. He wore a purple suit that draped sturdily off his back, matched with a green, striped oxford shirt and a black tie with some type of skull on it. He wore a chronograph watch that likely cost more than the monthly rent on her studio apartment. Hiachi could spot the golden cuff links that weighed down his sleeves, which matched the lustrous color of his hair.

The woman next to him looked far less at ease. Her suit was black and neatly fit her figure, over a creaseless white oxford shirt. The outfit was tied together with a crimson red tie. She folded her gloved hands, clad in black leather, and stared her intense gaze at the card dealer.

They looked familiar, in an ever-present way—maybe she had seen their faces on billboards or something? It was common for White Tiger patrons to be famous, as the general area was very popular with the social elite.

Regardless, they were clearly rich enough to be sporting the designer items they were wearing. People like this tended to shoot for high antes, like five amestriyen. Not a lot, but it still was the standard maximum—just to showcase their wealth.

At the end of the day, all of this didn’t matter to her. The only thing Hiachi had to care about was how much money they would end up betting in and losing to her.

Spoiler

Roda the Red joshuadim @Nacht Ari Number Two

​

 

[joshuadim]

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

Tigers B-side: The House Always Wins

LOCATION:

West District, The White Tiger

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Camila, Ryutaro, Jennifer, Alice

The House Always Wins

When Ryu joined the table, he could see the dour expressions on everyone's faces as they handidly lost to the young woman that sat among them. He would be essentially fronting the initial costs of this operation on his end, given his extensive capital available, in order to flush out what exactly was up with this women who sat across from him now. He didn't directly interact with her at first, as he got himself settled naturally on the table by nodding to the dealer and waving over a nearby server. He pulled out a card that he handed over to the suited woman, and whispered to her to convert funds for use as chips as well as to bring out a small drink.

"Looks like this table isn't having a whole lot of luck." Ryu commented to the other patrons with a feigned smile, turning on his charms. "Who's the big winner here?"

Several fingers immediately pointed to HIachi out of frustration as one of the men quickly left out of shame of having lost enough money today. "Mhm... are you even old enough to gamble?" he asked as a jest to Hiachi, before waving a hand. "I kid. Besides, it's always nice to have someone of higher skill to play against."

A feigned compliment from Ryu to start things off as he was delivered a platter with not just his drink of choice, warm plum sake, but also a large load of chips that amounted to nearly ten thousand worth that was gently set before him as he was dealt his cards. He took a good look at them, seeing a pair of sixes, and tilted his head ever so slightly. It was a decently strong hand to start with as he raised the bet to 100 and set the chips forward rather brazenly.

Interacting: Hiachi ( miki )

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Elias Yumin

CS Link

SCENE:

Love at Yu Min Cuisine

TIME:

February 14th, 2022 | Pre Arc 3

LOCATION:

West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Elias, Zach, Sabrina, Meirin, Samira, Minato, Passeri, Alice

Love at Yu Min Cuisine

A pleasant smile masked the awkwardness Elias felt at Minato feeling up his clothes. “Thank you. Mother would be pleased to hear you say that.”

And with that, the conversation took a lighter tone. Elias asked the Tigers their opinion of the menu–which was the most important detail to gather prior to the opening of a restaurant–and the orders went up for them to try new things. Free of charge, of course, since the invited Tigers were special guests; His ‘friends’. Doppelganger seemed to like anything with a ‘fancy-sounding’ name or with a price-tag far above what he could afford. The new Ace naturally brought up wines, to which Elias amicably agreed that a bit of Telabiim taste would do wonders to the restaurant’s menu. Alice seemed interested in getting to know New Oasis’s resident idol and Passeri Park, true to her professionalism, didn’t tarnish her reputation or disappoint fans. All in all, it was a delightful and pleasant evening no different than any other affluent party he’d been to.

If Elias was a little bored, he didn’t show it.

It was a boredom he’d chosen, after all. The comfort and stability of wealth, family legacy, and familiarity over plunging into the murky unknown. Perhaps, in a way, he thought that paying his way into the Albino Tiger Gang–the resident delinquents of the West District–would alleviate some of it.

It was ultimately the persistent tedium that led him to notice the signs.

Whispers.

From the corner of the restaurant, a growing tension threatened to escalate and, at the heart of it all, a woman he was determined to leave in his memories. Merin. Evidently, one of his mother’s friends recognized her and her sister as brothel workers and took it as freedom to get handsy. Elias could see the fury in the Sleeping Giant’s eyes. See the way her balled fists start to grow as the old man dumbly chattered away. And so he stepped in before things could get too big.

“Mr Baldwin! I’ve been meaning to meet with you!” A simple touch to the shoulder, and a forced handshake, was all it took for the NP to walk away. Elias turned to the woman he hadn’t seen–physically at least–in 7 years. Her eyes widened in recognition and a silent, awkward tension descended between them.

Elias, for a lack of better things to do, smirked. “It’s been a while–,”

The next thing he knew, his shoulders crashed into the opposite wall, bits of food staining his formerly pristine clothes. Opening his eyes, Elias could see that a table had fallen over. Utensils scattered. A few of the guests screamed. Most, however, simply appeared to be interested as cameras turned their way.

The instigator of the chaos, who seemed shocked at what she had done, ran, tears in her eyes.

Zach chuckled, swooping in to catch his fainting mother.

Miss Chouchou glared at him, venom in her eyes.

He didn't even want to know what the other Tigers thought. Grunting, Elias got to his feet from the cracked wall and–against his better judgment–ran after Meirin. As did so, the lights in the restaurant shut off. Guests looked around, confused by the sudden darkness. Then, after a moment, the stage lit up, spotlights focused on the short haired singer in a black evening gown who'd been providing background music the entire night.

—

Sabrina sighed, tying a ribbon and rose to the microphone. Yumin owed her for this one.

None of the drama affected her. She didn’t give a damn about the rich guy’s love life. Anyone’s love life for that matter. Love was something she’d thought she felt towards a person once, but, like everything else in her life, had let her down. However, in order to sing, in order to steal the stage, raw emotions were needed. So, as she clutched the microphone, Sabrina dug into the memories she had long ago buried.

She nodded at Ethan of Lucifer, who started to play the piano.

Then Sabrina's voice filled the restaurant, drawing the attention of all the guests and cameras as she sang her soul.

​

@Beann Elenion Aura Roda the Red @The One Eyed Bandit @Ari Number Two @Coyote Hart

 

[Ramjammer]

Learning your stripes.


Lorette LècuyerCS LINK

Scene:Tigers B-side. Learning your stripes.

Time:April 10th, 10:00 AM.

Location:West District. The Silver Spoon.

Participants:Lorette,Hiachi.


Lorette had been expecting someone else. The kinds of people that gave the Albino Tigers the amount of trouble this girl had tended to be a little more...impressive. She'd expected someone shifty looking, cunning. Tall. The wisp of a girl standing nervously at the door and looking ready to flee at a moment's notice was none of those things.

Lorette watched her momentarily, content to observe the girl as she took stock of her surroundings. She was definitely out of place. The woman felt a brief pang of guilt at choosing such an upscale place for their meeting. She'd assumed anyone sly enough to rob the Tigers blind would be more confident. The younger woman's nervousness confirmed Lorette's theory regarding her predicament. She had to have been using a Potential to cheat, and Lorette wanted to know precisely how.

It wasn't long before the girl's eyes settled on her, and Lorette stared back impassively. She didn't speak, merely lifting a finger to crook it in her direction, indicating the other woman to approach. Lorette was at least polite enough to kick a chair out from under the table for the girl when she arrived. Her interest in the other woman's secrets made her impatient however, and so she skipped all pretense of pleasantries.

"You're the little mouse that's been stealing from the Tigers." She said plainly. Up close, Lorette could get a really good look at the girl. The dark bags under her eyes and overall listless expression only added to Lorette's puzzlement. She did not look any bit like a con artist. But perhaps it was that unassuming appearance that made her so successful. A nervous runt hardly looked the type to cheat the Albino Tigers so boldly.

"You don't look like the type to count cards. I'm pretty sure you don't have a partner either; otherwise, they'd have been caught along with you." Lorette said, pausing to take a sip of her black espresso. She hated it.

"Don't drink the coffee here; it's terrible." She muttered, setting aside the cup with a disdainful look.

"I assume then, you've got a Potential that gives you some kind of edge in the Casinos. When I heard you'd been picked up, I became curious. You hadn't pinged once on our radar, and suddenly there you are with full pockets." Lorette's eyes narrowed, and she studied the girl critically.

"You mind sharing your little secret with me? I've always had an interest in Potentials and their applications."

Lorette paused to take another sip of her supposedly awful coffee. She grimaced again, cursing her body's need for caffeine so early in the day. She'd been midway to setting the cup down before she seemed to come upon a sudden realization.

"Ah, I never asked you name, did I? I'm Lorette. They call me Nergal too, but that's not something you'd be interested in hearing about." Lorette scoffed with a flippant wave of her hand. "Why don't you tell me your name? And you may as well get something to eat. I'll foot the bill, so you can stuff your face."


miki

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

Tigers B-side: Learning Your Stripes

LOCATION:

West District, The Silver Spoon

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Lorette

Learning Your Stripes

The second Hiachi sat down, the woman who had called her to the meeting started analyzing her. Hiachi had expected this—a high ranking tiger, which she expected this woman was, would never give a rookie any charity without an incentive. Hiachi was barely a week into her induction, and even she knew that.

The woman almost talked entirely amongst herself, as she repeated Hiachi’s circumstance back to her. The more she talked, the more Hiachi got the impression that somehow, this woman thought she was a mastermind of some kind. Which would have been flattering if the situation wasn’t so sour.

The grimace she gave her espresso sent a chill down Hiachi’s spine. The level of wealth it took to slander coffee in a supposedly high-end coffee shop was a lot more than Hiachi ever expected to know in her lifetime.

The woman looked her dead in the eyes. "You mind sharing your little secret with me? I've always had an interest in Potentials and their applications."

The real dread set in. She wasn’t special. She was just stupid enough to try and take control of a system that already had its roots run deep within New Oasis’ Western District.

Hiachi tried to straighten her shoulders out, painfully aware that years of slouching had done some damage to her posture. “Um… I can see really well,” Hiachi started, scrambling for a way to make her lame potential sound the least bit more interesting. “As for the casinos, I just looked for the reflection of the cards in people’s eyes and figured it out from there. It’s not very interesting…”

Thankfully, instead of throwing her out of the shop altogether, the woman relaxed and took another sip of coffee. Despite her hate for it, everyone needed their caffeine, it seemed.

"Ah, I never gave you my name, did I? I'm Lorette. They call me Nergal too, but that's not something you'd be interested in hearing about." She scoffed before turning back to Hiachi. "Why don't you tell me your name? And you may as well get something to eat. I'll foot the bill, so you can stuff your face."

“Ah. I’m Hiachi—” She paused before giving her full name. Maybe letting her know her full name wouldn’t be the best idea, considering she probably didn’t know and she was surrounded by potential tigers. The last thing she needed was people linking her back to her family. “...yeah.”

Lorette had guessed that Hiachi was a charity case, and her guess was right on the money. Hiachi hadn’t had breakfast, and was planning to lie her way out of buying something at the café. She hesitated—her parents had raised her to always reject offers from others, as a sign of respect and pride. But it was clear who was in power here, and Hiachi didn’t have the money for pride anymore. Plus, it would be nice to eat something that didn’t taste like styrofoam and sugar.

She tried to scan the menu quickly for something appetizing. She hadn’t had eggs in a really long time, and a vegetable in an even longer time. “May I have an omelet with the side salad?”

There had been something itching at the back of Hiachi’s mind the whole conversation. Something about this woman was familiar. The sternness of her gaze, the cool shade of her skin, they sat faintly in what felt like one of Hiachi’s memories. What really set her off was the piercing on the bridge of her nose—not uncommon, but it felt like something that child Hiachi noted and kept away in her mind.

Since they were here to talk, Hiachi figured asking wouldn’t hurt. “I’m sorry—I feel like I know you from somewhere…”

Spoiler

@Ramjammer

 

[tityanya]

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝔸𝕤: 𝕆𝕞𝕚​

I am here: parking lot
With: Tri, driver
Scene: Coolness as a Rule
Time: Wednesday, November 3rd, 2021 || Post Arc-2

"You know once I start, I cannot help myself"

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎

Naomi could feel her earlier victory draining away. She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing wrong. After she asked if he would be the one doing the drowning, he rubbed his chin, clearly deep in thought. But he said nothing. Could he really blame her for not wanting to drown someone in a sewer, though? She was wearing a skimpy, skin tight dress and high heels. Not exactly a "trekking in sewers" outfit. But she could see the disapproval written on his face. This was going terribly. She was too nervous, wasn't she? Maybe she should have brought more weed with her for the dinner. That usually helped take the nerves straight away, allowing her to do whatever needed to be done. Maybe she should just...pretend like she was fully high. Try doing the same actions she would if she were. Maybe that'd work.

They stopped in the parking lot, and Tri shook his head at her suggestion. Businessmen only robbed...big? So was he a businessman today? That certainly explained the outfit and the glasses. But clearly her business-like mind wasn't pleasing him. She could never shake where she came from, no matter how much she tried. Robbing a big business...was that their plan? That was way easier said than done. Bank heists would be plotted for months beforehand, and a lot of stealing from large corporations happened from the inside, not the outside. Maybe she was thinking too much. Clearly Tri hadn't appreciated her early attempts at thinking, so this time she just kept her mouth shut, nodding as Tri pointed at the gun and...money gun? She hadn't noticed that before. Naomi watched their driver go up to the man, and the enthusiastic conversation that followed. Clearly the money had done the job, and their driver came back saying that only chorizo and barbeque pork was left. Hmm, those sounded good at least.

Tri got off the window, looking blankly forward as he spoke to Naomi. Naomi tried to listen closely to his words, but they swam around in her head. Serpent=freedom. Tri's freedom=cool. But the last sentence made things click in her mind. Today, he was shady businessman cool. Ah! Tri's idea of cool varied from day to day, just like Naomi's choice of form. It was always changing, always shifting. Which meant that she probably could never win the "cool" prize. But at the very least, she was a step closer. Be free. That was her problem these past two meetings with Tri--she was so wrapped up in the fact that he was king now, that she was working for him. She was trying to be too smart, too impressive. She just needed...to not give a shit. To be authentic. It would probably get her closer to cool than...whatever she was doing now.

At the finger-gun bang, Naomi let out a dramatic (but quiet so as to not scare the taco truck man) scream, and dramatically fell against the door as though she had just been shot. She stayed there for a second before bursting into laughter, sitting up and pointing her own finger gun back at Tri. "Pew!" she said, trying to ignore the voice in the back of her head that said that was inappropriate to do to the king. Tri started it, after all! "Does that make me your equally shady secretary, then? Or just some random woman you picked up?" A role to play in Tri's little fantasy scenario would help her out a lot, she thought.​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((Discipline))

Damafaud

 

[Elenion Aura]

MINATO MAEDA

CS Link

SCENE:

One, Two, Three, Four, I Declare a Nerf War

TIME:

March 15th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3

LOCATION:

A Park, Lower Central

PARTICIPANTS:

Gideon, Kiwi, Jesper, Minato, Jozef, Dagger, Bolt, Pascal, Maria

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, I DECLARE A NERF WAR

As Jennifer—Why so Scary, Jen? Y'know, this is just for fun, right..? Right!?—menacingly approached the Minatos' position, they all trained their guns her way.

”FIRE!”

Minato commanded, and his clones sprung into action. Each replica carried its own paintball gun, working together in synchronized harmony as they unleashed a barrage of paint-filled darts at Jennifer.

Minato's heart raced, and adrenaline surged through his veins as he quickly assessed the situation. He knew Jennifer was a force to be reckoned with, but he had faith in his clones and their ability to work as a team. Despite his outward confidence and swagger, Minato couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear at Jennifer's cold, determined gaze. He knew she wasn't one to mess with.

As Jennifer continued her advance, expertly dodging and deflecting the paint-filled projectiles, the Minatos knew they had to change tactics. They quickly communicated with each other, formulating a new plan on the fly.

"Other Me's, flank her from both sides!" Minato ordered, and his replicas moved to obey. Two clones sprinted to Jennifer's left, while two others raced to her right. They spread out, trying to surround her and cut off her escape routes.

Minato, the original, took up a position behind his comrades, ready to provide backup if needed. He couldn't help but feel admiration and a little hot under the collar at Jennifer's display of skill and tenacity. This was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted event, but the intensity of the battle had escalated quickly. Minato was having a blast.

As the clones continued to execute their plan to flank Jennifer, Minato caught sight of Pascal approaching the foxhole. Minato's eyes narrowed, assessing the situation like a general would the battlefield. Pascal had a paint splatter on his chest, courtesy of an unexpected attack from an orange-haired girl. Minato smirked. Heh, somebody got 'im good!

Pascal's voice carried over the chaos, calling out to Minato and requesting a truce. He offered a funny story as a token of goodwill. Minato considered the proposal for a moment. He knew Pascal wasn't the most powerful ally in this nerf war, but he also, well... At the very least, having an extra teammate never hurt.

"All right, P!" Minato shouted back, waving him over. "You've got yourself a truce, but that story better be worth it!" Minato's clones paused for a moment, allowing Pascal to join them in the foxhole.

As Pascal settled in, Minato's clones resumed their efforts to surround Jennifer. However, they were cautious, knowing that Pascal's presence could change the dynamics of their plan. They didn't want to put their new ally in harm's way.

"So, what's this funny story of yours?" Minato asked, as paint-filled darts whizzed through the air around them. "And by the by, you wouldn't have any ideas on how we can stop Jennifer's rampage, would ya?" Minato knew that combining their abilities and strategic thinking could be the key to their success in this nerf war.

 

[Elenion Aura]

MINATO MAEDA

CS Link

SCENE:

Osamu's and Mina's Party Bash

TIME:

September 25th, 2021|Post Arc-1

LOCATION:

Osamu's Mina's Crib

PARTICIPANTS:

Osamu, Minato, Matsuda, August, Elias

OSAMU'S AND MINA'S PARTY BASH

Minato's eyes glinted mischievously as he smirked back at August, intrigued by his interest in the luxurious setup and his knowledge of the materials used. Truth be told, Minato had no idea the work that had gone in to procuring the bar. He'd bought it in an estate sale of one Titus Latken. They'd only just finished retrofitting it into the space by the time the evening festivities rolled around. He leaned back against the custom-made, pillaged counter, a sly smile playing across his lips as he considered the proposal. He cocked an eyebrow, making a great show of sizing August up for a moment before answering with his typical swagger.

"Hey now, you're speakin' my language," he said, his words tumbling out in a rapid-fire pace.

"Y'know, I like your style, bro," Minato added, his eyes suddenly gleaming with excitement. "Sure, I've got some stuff here n' there, but ain't no fun just handin' 'em over, right? LIke ya' said, let's play a game for 'em. What'd you have in mind? 'N more importantly, what'cha offerin' in return?"

He leaned further against the counter, his yellow eyes studying August carefully. He could tell this guy had an eye for valuable things, and that intrigued Minato. He tapped his fingers against the cool Darkwood, his mind already whirring with possibilities, and the potential winnings to be had. Maybe he could hustle this guy a little bit, or maybe he'dne the one to draw the short straw. Either way, it was fun to imagine the possibilities.

"So, what's it gonna be? Pool? Cards? Or maybe something a little more high-stakes? I'm up for anything, and I bet you are too," Minato said with a grin, his fingers drumming on the counter in anticipation. He was always up for a challenge, and August seemed like the type who could give him a run for his money. "Let's make this interesting, yeah?"


Minato snatched the bottle from Sylvie's grip, eyes darting around the room as he inspected it with quick, jerky movements. "Whoa, dude, check this out!" He exclaimed, holding the bottle up to the light and squinting at the label. "1989 Vieux… Château Certan? That's some fancy schmancy stuff right there! Not bad, not bad at all."

He turned back to Sylvie with a grin, his fingers tapping restlessly on the bottle. "Cheers to unexpected gifts and new friends, yeah?" he said, taking a swig of the wine and passing it back to Sylvie. "Here, take a sip. This stuff's like liquid gold, I swear. And hey, you're welcome to stick around if ya want. The more the merrier, amirite?"

As he handed the bottle back to Sylvie, Minato's mind raced with possibilities. Here was a perfect opportunity to make a new friend and maybe even turn a quick profit. "And yah, y' could say that this's my party, after all, it's my pad. Heh. You're welcome to stick around and enjoy the festivities. Minato Maeda, nice ta' meet'cha!" He flashed Sylvie a quick smile, his mind already working on the next angle.

"So, homie, what brings you to my humble abode?" he asked, his words dripping with smoothness. "You seem like the kinda fella who knows his way around the finer things in life. Maybe we can strike a deal or two, eh? I always got something cookin', if you know what I mean." His eyebrows waggled.

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, and uh... Just between you n' me, I got a couple a goodies stashed away that might just pique your interest. And I'm always in the market for a little something special, if you catch my drift."

He pulled back, hands splayed in mock-innocent grinning widely. "But hey, no pressure or anything. Just thought I'd throw it out there. You seem like a smart guy, Sylvie. I think we could do some serious business together if we put our heads together, yeah?"

 

[tityanya]

𝑁𝑜𝑎𝑚 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜

I am here: Novak Mansion
With: Nikolai
Scene: Revenge Best Served à La Mode
Time: 6:15 PM || November 7, 2019 || Pre-arc 1​

"Everybody gets high"

〖 Noam had been at a party when Niko called. A pretty girl sat on his lap, an ecstasy pill on her tongue as she was kissing him, when the phone rang. His brow furrowed as he finished the kiss, pressing the pill he now possessed against his teeth as he pulled it out. "Oh, that's my boss. Give me a minute, doll," The girl pouted, but knew better to argue, crawling off of Noam's lap and going to the dancefloor. Noam watched her with a smile on his face for a second, before answering the call. "Hey Niko, what's up?" Noam asked. Niko's reply was...slurred and rushed. Noam wasn't even exactly sure what he was saying between that and the loud music. Someone stole a design? He wanted Noam's presence? "Alright, I'll be there soon," Noam promised, hanging up the phone. He went to the dancefloor and wrapped his arms around the girl, placing his mouth next to her ear. "Sorry babe, seems like work never ends. I'll see you at the next party?"

With a new date arranged, Noam headed out towards his supra parked outside. It took 20-30 minutes for ecstasy to hit, which would hopefully be enough time to get to Niko's manor. Especially if he raced. What was the point of a fast car if you never used it, right? So he raced through the streets, determined to make a new personal best time. He pulled up to the manor right as the rush began to hit. Hmm, maybe he shouldn't have swallowed that pill. But at the same time, what a waste if he didn't, right? At least Niko seemed incredibly drunk himself, so he had no right to say anything to Noam.

Noam strode to the door, his hand on the doorknob, when another hand grabbed at his. "And who might you be?" Noam rolled his eyes and looked down at his wrist, and then at the man. "You and I have met before," Noam told him, his voice progressively getting higher and his body shorter as he transformed into Omi. The guard's eyes widened, and in retrospect, that was probably a horrifying thing to witness. The person in front of you just...melting into another person. He probably wouldn't have done that if he had been sober. "Are we good? Let go of my wrist," Noam said, the opposite effect happening with his voice getting deeper, and his baggy clothes becoming filled out again. "Y-yes, right away," the security guard said, opening the door for Noam. "I always drive the same car. If you see that car, it's me," Noam said with a handwave, heading inside.

As Noam strode through the halls, he could feel a chill drifting through the halls. Man, Niko really needed to fix this place up. All of Noam's money went towards his car and clothes, so he just lived in a shitty apartment. But what was Niko spending his money on? A shout and the sound of shattering glass drew Noam's attention, and he ran through the halls into the room Nikolai was in. Noam opened the door, and came into a scene of Niko sitting delicately on his loveseat, smoking a cigarette. "Got here as soon as I could. I couldn't hear you very well at the party. Yes, I know it's like 6pm. It's one of those 24 hour ones. What happened?"〗

"why the hell can't I?"​

((ooc: ))
((outfit: same as pic))
((Everybody Gets High))​

Caffeine_Obsessed

 

[Damafaud]

TRI

CS Link

SCENE:

Laundromat Owner will Die

LOCATION:

Laundromat, West District

TIME:

Wednesday, December 1st, 2021 || Post Arc-2

PARTICIPANTS:

Tri, Damien

Laundromat Owner will Die

Tri pursed his lips at the many finger guns. Tentacles were cheating. He could escalate with an elbow bazooka, but nothing stopped the tentacles from imitating him again. Reluctantly, he scratched his chin and dropped the fight.

"Kinsley. If you know her." Tri sighed long. This was his first defeat in a long time. "Or her symbiote. The feeling of wanting to take that. Through killing her."

His first defeat in a very, very long time. And one he admitted he lost. Tri crossed his arms. No. His eyes narrowed fierce. He couldn't let it end here. He needed to win somehow or someway. Tri nodded slowly.

"Hm. Deodorant gun, aphrodisiac, sleeping, adhesive, disease." That last one actually had a lot of variants, but they acted too slow for combat and was only good for assassination. Then, his eyes light up. "Paralyzing."

Tri took out the paralytic gun. Then another. He looked expectantly at Damien. "Let's duel."

A finger gun lost could be washed by a real gun win.

Tags: Lucem

 

[Damafaud]

TRI

CS Link

SCENE:

Coolness as a Rule

LOCATION:

Parking Lot, North District

TIME:

Wednesday, November 3rd, 2021 || Post Arc-2

PARTICIPANTS:

Tri, Naomi

Coolness as a Rule

Tri stared with a dazed look at the falling Naomi. This was the first time someone reacted like that. So surprised, he didn't have to response when Naomi shot back. Even so, he wasn't a genius for nothing.

"Laser gun is cheating." His lips pursed, but their corner curled upward; the secret smile he trained for the cool businessman role, the reluctantly-approving smile.

He liked that. That was unexpected and cool. Like him. He thought about Naomi's role tonight and discovered there had been only one answer from the start.

"Mentee," he said simply. "the family is disappointing, so I take someone else instead."

Strictly speaking, his family did disappoint in term of succeeding his role. Paris jumped his all into building his empire and his niece long disappeared with her boyfriend. Also, he was here to teach Naomi, so it wasn't wrong. She learnt quick, too. Tri let out a hum as he thought of what else he should tell her.

"When you are me, there's no compromise. It's your way or the highway, but also if the way is too much of a pain or too objected, choose another way. But also still your way." He paused and scratched his cheek. "Unless it's Paris. He's the one paying."

Money still triumphed over all. Outside, Tristan stood near the truck door watching on his phone. From the loud, unfiltered voice, he was watching anime.

Tags: tityanya

 

[Elenion Aura]

RAPHAEL SHAW

CS Link

SCENE:

Lab Rats

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1 || Late 2017

LOCATION:

Kinz's Rooftop, North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Peyton, Damian, Kinsley, Raphael

LAB RATS

As the wind continued to whip around them, Raphael couldn't help but feel a strange sensation emanating from his head. He absentmindedly reached up, his fingers brushing against the newly cropped mane that he wasn't quite accustomed to yet. It felt lighter, somehow less burdensome, but at the same time unfamiliar.

His eyes flicked to his reflection in a nearby grease-stained, smudged window, and he examined his shorter hair with a hint of uncertainty. It framed his face differently. He caught himself tilting his head, observing the way the shortened strands fell into place, no longer cascading down his back or obscuring his view. It felt like trading glances with a stranger.

Raphael's fingers played with the ends, twisting and twirling the remaining locks, as if trying to find comfort in the old habit. But the sensation was different, the weight and texture not quite what he remembered. He frowned, a subtle hint of unease creeping into his expression as he continued to toy with the hair that now barely reached his shoulders.

In the midst of the self-consciousness, Raphael glanced over at Peyton, who seemed oblivious to Raph's momentary vulnerability. A small, annoyed huff escaped his lips, but Raphael couldn't help but let a sardonic smirk play at the corners of his lips as he watched Peyton's delight in their day out. For Raph, the morning had been tolerable. He'd indulged in Peyton's whims, even if they were frivolous, such as manicures and the monstrous crepe that Peyton couldn't quite get a grip on. It was as if Peyton's energy was infectious, and Raphael found himself curious about what the next whim would bring. But the truth was, he felt a gnawing emptiness within him, a dark, familiar hunger that never seemed to subside. What is this?

As they approached the building where Kinsley was rumored to hang out, Raph's dark eyes shifted upward, following Peyton's gaze. The building loomed, a jumbled mass of brick and concrete, standing tall against the skyline. The sight hardly impressed him, but he couldn't deny the flicker of curiosity that sparked within. What could possibly be so captivating about this place?

Peyton slipped through the hole in the fence with ease, his small frame causing barely a disturbance. Raphael followed, his lithe form slipping through just as effortlessly. The rickety metal stairwell creaked beneath their combined weight, and Raphael felt the familiar thrill of potential danger. He let out a soft chuckle, his tone dripping with arrogance, as he said, "You really know how to show a guy a good time, don't you~"

As they climbed higher, the wind whipped around them, tugging at Raphael's now-tamed hair and the edges of his dark clothing. The darkened city sprawled below, a living, breathing entity of chaos and potential. Raph's heart quickened in his chest, the sight almost enough to satiate the ever-present hunger that clawed at his insides.

Reaching the top, Raphael remained aloof, his eyes never leaving the sight before them. This height, this perspective—it was intoxicating. It made him feel powerful, untouchable, even if just for a moment. And that was a feeling worth chasing.

But the nagging hunger remained. As Peyton continued to chatter away, Raphael couldn't help but wonder how long this fragile, fleeting happiness would last.

Spoiler: Tags

@Coyote Hart (Peyton) @Kyuubey (Kinz) Lucem (Damian)

 

[Elenion Aura]

MILO NAGISA

CS Link

SCENE:

The Enduring Hurrah

LOCATION:

Pre-Arc 3, Evening of May 27th, 2022

LOCATION:

Red West Bar, a Phoenix hub in the South District

PARTICIPANTS:

So many Phoenixes...

THE ENDURING HURRAH

The scene was a cacophony of clinking glasses, laughter, and murmured conversations. The dim lighting cast shadows on the faces of those he'd come to know as his new "family", but the atmosphere was tinged with an undercurrent of tension. Despite the jovial mood on the surface, the weight of the impending future hung heavily in the air.

Taking a deep breath, Milo silently knocked back the shot Ashley had given him, grimacing as the burn of the alcohol temporarily distracting him from his spiraling thoughts. As the warmth spread through his chest, he looked back at Ashley and Boltius, trying to draw strength from their presence.

Milo gave a small, humorless chuckle at Ashley's mention of his past attempt to take out Hector. "Yeah, well, we all make mistakes," he said, trying to sound lighthearted despite the discomfort of being reminded of that particular memory. "As for me," he continued, answering Ashley's question, "I'm just... trying to figure things out, I guess. It's a lot to take in, and sometimes it's hard to see where I fit in all this."

Milo's gaze flicked between Ashley and the approaching Boltius, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the shot glass as he contemplated what to say next. His thoughts danced around his head like a swarm of fireflies, each one sparking an emotion he'd tried so hard to keep hidden.

Milo looked into Ashley's sincere eyes and hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to burden them with his fears and uncertainties. Instead, he offered a small smile, a feeble attempt to mask the turmoil inside him. "And I'm just thinking about the future, I guess," he admitted, his voice barely audible above the surrounding chatter. If there was even going to be a future, after this. He tried not to look at the faces in the background. By this time tomorrow some of them would be dead.

He glanced at Boltius as he joined them, whose strong features were illuminated by the warm glow of the bar-lights. Milo remembered the days when he'd looked up to Boltius, envied his confidence and strength. It was strange to think that they were now both Phoenixes, one the brink of a battle that could change everything, the other. Well... Oh, how Milo wished things were different.

"Oh," he said, as he prepared to reiterate for Boltius' benefit. "Just thinking about next steps." He had to tread carefully. Milo knew how sensitive Bolt was. Especially now. Especially after everything... He couldn't just come out and say it.

He tried to sound reassuring, even as his own doubts gnawed at him. He wanted to scream, Don't go. Instead he said, "But we're all in this together, right?"

Milo hoped that, by saying the words out loud, he could make them true. For Boltius, for Ashley, for himself. It was a hope that fluttered fragile and uncertain in his heart, like a candle flame in the darkness. For now, it was enough to keep him going.

But for how long?

Spoiler: Tags

joshuadim
Caffeine_Obsessed
Roda the Red
@Ari Number Two
WhiskeyMarten
@EmperorsChosen
@RedArmyShogun
Doctor Llamabean
Lucem
@Coyote Hart
@The Prophet
@weatheringwings
@Astros

 

[BluEndings]

CHARMY DEVLIN

CS Link

SCENE:

[The Punchline]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, February 12th, 2016

LOCATION:

The Precipice, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri Park, Charmy Devlin

THE PUNCHLINE

For a spectacle, Charmy’s expression didn’t convey much attentiveness. The conclusion may as well have been the most interesting of the possible outcomes, but it still failed to move her. She’d be able to make up the losses if it really came down to dishing out for the celebrity's signature, but the favor was another story. It wasn’t as if she was opposed to owing someone every now and then. Truly there was nothing like honor binding her to such an arrangement anyway. She wasn’t exactly known for her sincerity, but there was something that kept her grounded.

The fight’s announcer rattled dime a dozen commentary to quell the rapacious clamoring and spiral hype towards monetary intrigue. In the meanwhile, a pair of crew members had descended the crucible of crammed spectators to lend their shoulders to the fresh victor of the night’s peak. It was a rudimentary assistance consisting of a towel, a bottle of water, and the eventual guidance towards one of the club’s backrooms. Not the mundane spaces for the usual run of mill riff raff, but a proper expanse to commemorate a veritable brush with death.

As a word ‘room’ may as well have been an insult, considering the size.

The quarters did not shy away from shamelessly flaunting the quality and exorbitant cost. From the walls to the fine liquor shelved in disgustingly obvious imported wood. Comfort wasn’t disregarded, but it was clearly secondary to suffocating the guest of honor in temporary opulence. Specifically the variant that wouldn’t be found in more reputable places. Plenty of the furnishing was borderline or outright criminal. Whether it be illegal mountings, furs, or stolen paintings, there was absolutely no courtesy towards the law.

Passeri may as well have been left there alone to ferment until Charmy’s eventual belated entrance.

“Still conscious?” She gleamed.

“The patrons got their blood, and you got something much more valuable I reckon.”

Spoiler: Mentions

@The One Eyed Bandit

NAVIGATE

 

[tityanya]

𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝔸𝕤: 𝕆𝕞𝕚​

I am here: Car in a parking lot
With: Tri, driver
Scene: Coolness as a Rule
Time: Wednesday, November 3rd, 2021 || Post Arc-2

"You know once I start, I cannot help myself"

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎

Another victory. Tri's smile was such a good impersonation of her father's smile that it gave her chills, but she knew what it meant: you did well. "There's no cheating, only winning," she retorted, blowing fake smoke away from her finger gun.

Their conversation changed to Naomi asking him what role exactly she was playing. Mentee, and that the family was disappointing. "Got it. The family isn't worthy of taking over your responsibilities. I'll do my best to learn under your tutelage," Naomi said, with a smarmy grin worthy of someone usurping the rightful place of an heir. She'd use this time in the parking lot to hastily create her character. Tri had clearly practiced beforehand, if the small smile he had given her was any indication. It wasn't hard to come up with. The fact that Tri had even mentioned mentee gave her a smug sense of satisfaction. Perfect for the role she had been chosen to play. She adopted that smugness into her body language, a small smirk on her face.

She listened intently as Tri began to explain more of his mentality. His way or the highway, unless it got too hard and then it was a different path. That was simple enough to understand. It also made her inwardly cringe at her attempt at compromise earlier. No wonder that had lost her some victory points earlier. It was getting easier and easier for Naomi to guess what it was that Tri wanted--someone that went with the flow, kept up the bit, and wasn't nervous. She could do that. Keep up the bit. Like improv--yes, and...

From their spot in the car, Naomi could hear their driver's phone speaker as he watched something on full blast. Something that sounded a lot like...anime, if the voice archetypes were to be trusted. "Do you recognize what he's watching?" Naomi asked Tri, partly small talk and also partly to see how Tri felt about the volume and the source. Knowing what made him happy and what pissed him off was key to crafting him as a character she could play.​

((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((Discipline))

Damafaud

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)

CS Link

SCENE:

Lost on Bourbon

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1—2021, June 5th (Friday)—1:00 AM

LOCATION:

Somewhere outside of the city; Caged up on a stage...

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Hector

LOST ON BOURBON

Hector and Boltius lunged for each other, commencing their drunken brawl for which the audience erupted with excited jabbering, placing their bids and their bets.

Cowards, all of them. Hiding behind their flashy masks in a dark factory situated as far as one can only guess from roaming civilization.

Trading their sloppy blows, Boltius took the first hit, Hector’s fist swiping him right across the cheekbone. He staggered back and tripped over the unconscious man behind him. Metal tolled like a gong in his brain as he went down and bounced his head off of the bars of the birdcage that served as their colosseum.

Fully anticipating that Hector would take advantage of this blunder—or maybe he wouldn’t—Boltius rolled aside, got to his hands and knees, then sprung a wobbly retreat per the alcohol and other foreign substances mixing about his stomach.

His balance was hard to maintain, and the sudden movements weren’t treating him kindly. Shaky hands kneaded away at his brain until it was putty sloshing around in his skull, and he felt himself go down without Hector so much as touching him. Ooooh, fffffuuuuuck, man…

Boltius groaned, rolling slowly to his side.

“Mmmgh… I’m gonna hurl, yo-” It happened as he said it, vomit racing up his esophagus with the burn of liquor, stomach acid, and chemicals. But with it also came an idea.

He pushed to his hands and knees, coughing and spitting. Groaning. Then he found his feet and swayed back, meeting Hector’s eyes. “Thanks fer waitin’.” Boltius spat again, wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, then put his fists up once again. Only this time he felt slightly more rejuvenated. An emptying of the gut of noxious intoxicants will do that to you.

BOLTIUS NOTES​

— —Boltius is currently shirtless and wearing his usual golden earrings, chains, and rings + some sweatpants and shoes

— —Tattoo Reference (X)

— —Physique Reference, since his face-claim art doesn't accurately depict it (X) (X)

— —POST RECAP: Bolt and Hector square off. Boltius takes the first hit and goes down. Twice; he vomits on the second. But he has an idea...

WhiskeyMarten

 

[Ramjammer]

Learning your stripes.


Lorette LècuyerCS LINK

Scene:Tigers B-side. Learning your stripes.

Time:April 10th, 10:00 AM.

Location:West District. The Silver Spoon.

Participants:Lorette,Hiachi.


Lorette's eyes widened in understanding as the girl explained her Potential. "I'm sorry. Are you telling me that you cannot only see the images reflected in a person's eyes but were able to strategize a win with no knowledge as to how and when they'd play those cards?" She said, her tone baffled. The way the girl had described it, her Potential was as fascinating as breathing without thinking. A skill that she'd banked her very survival on and had drawn the attention of the Albino tigers. Uninteresting

Assassination, espionage, theft. The girl could have done anything. She could have had anything. Yet she chose to squander her talent playing cards. Not often did Lorette find herself flabbergasted, yet the small girl had made it so. Lorette wasn't sure if the kid was lazy or completely unimaginative. Taking in her slouched posture and tired eyes, it occurred to Lorette that maybe she didn't give a shit.

Lorette sat back and made herself comfortable. She was perfectly content to let Hiachi eat in silence; the girl didn't seem like the talkative sort anyhow. But every so often, her eyes would flit toward Lorette, and it was obvious that she wanted to ask her something. When Hiachi finally mustered up the nerve to speak, Lorette once more found herself rendered speechless. The younger woman had unknowingly dredged up a host of memories long forgotten.

"Those eyes. Yes, I remember those."

It had startled her back then that a child so young could have a stare so cold. It was the kind of look befitting someone who'd borne far too much over the course of their life. Lorette wasn't sure if she wanted to know what could embitter a little girl so. Hers was a cursed existence that the woman wanted no part of.

"I...yes. I remember now..." Lorette began tentatively, not sure of what to do with the revelation. "There were a lot of kids running around the East District. But none quite like you Hiachi; I'm not even sure how I could forget a stare like yours. Maybe it just shows how old I'm getting." Lorette laughed mirthlessly.

"Now I'm even more curious about you. You've got the eyes of a Hawk and a stare mean enough to scare grown men. How the hell did you end up here?" She asked earnestly.

miki

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

DARIUS KENNEDY

CS Link

SCENE:

Blurred Borders

LOCATION:

Hartswan Terrace, North District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1: October 25, 2019 -- Night

PARTICIPANTS:

Darius, Celestine

BLURRED BORDERS

Shit, shit, shit.

Darius pushed himself back as another bullet hit him in the hand, stinging as he recoiled it towards his body. Already he felt like running away. He could feel tears welling up and his chest tightening. How did people do this and stay calm? Darius couldn’t ask that now, so he had to figure out the answer for himself. It didn’t help to see the woman’s head loll to one side, hanging off of her sliced neck as the body tumbled to the ground.

At least it was her, not me.

The kill provided a quick distraction, as the gunman and the burly HP turned their attention to Celeste, and while Darius could’ve easily been distracted too, he got up onto trembling legs, and launched himself at the gunman once more. This time, Darius was in control. The chair the man had stood from buckled, collapsing into wooden splinters as the two men fell to the ground. Shouts of anger at the intrusion turned into screams of agony, as the Serpent rookie’s toxic hands bore through his neck and face.

While that was happening, the burly man, who had perhaps not realised the urgency of his male companion’s situation, was trying to get the attention of the armoured woman in Celeste’s hold.

“LOOK AT ME.”

He spoke quickly and sharply, with a scratchy voice. But his few words were for nought as the woman’s head was being scrambled under Celeste’s touch. Realising that something was amiss, the man made his way over, launching a steel-toed kick at Celestine.

POST NOTES​

— "Burly Man's" Potential: Rotate — This potential allows the user to rotate a person in any direction instantaneously after locking eyes with them, however there is a cooldown of 15 seconds on each target.

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

SYLVIE SLEZÁK

CS Link

SCENE:

Buzzkill

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1—2020, November 18 | 7:45 pm

LOCATION:

Eminence, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Matsuda Russo, Sylvie Slezák

BUZZKILL

A new watch and a new chain around his neck, both glimmering under the ambient lights of Eminence club were enough to make Sylvie feel like a new person. He wasn’t supposed to be out here, his parents had constantly told him, the main reason being that he was only 19. Sylvie tried to make them understand that once you were of a certain status, such rules did not apply anymore, but they weren’t so receptive to the idea. They weren’t always so fortunate with their finances, and so they didn’t want to risk losing the momentum they were gaining with this place. It didn’t matter much to Sylvie, he still slipped into the bar as the crowds started to roll in, taking advantage of the fact that he always treated the staff so well, so they didn’t mind looking the other way.

He received a glass of colourful liquid from the bar but waved away the card reader being pushed in his direction.

“Ah, my parents own the place. Sylvie Slezák.”

The bartender, new, didn’t have a clue who he was, but he spoke with so much conviction that she just nodded meekly, retracting the request for him to pay. She had even less of an issue with it when he passed her a wad of notes. Dirty money, but who’s to judge in West District?

Sylvie was almost more pleased than his parents to see the success of Eminence It was almost too busy right now seeing how the staff scrambled to serve everyone, their efforts clearly paying off. He knew coming to Amestria was the right choice, even if it wasn’t quite a choice anyone wanted to make at the time. Though quickly he noticed a man next to him, with two beautiful eyes of different colours, looking rather detached from the whole thing. Dissatisfaction here? It couldn’t be. Sylvie tapped him on the shoulder with a smile. Time to show his worth, maybe then he’d be allowed to stick his nose in the place more.

”Good evening Sir,” Sylvie held a hand out, adorned in rings, ”Sylvie Slezák, pleased to meet you. What brings you here tonight?” His young age was showing a bit here, slightly immature in his eagerness to introduce himself.

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

HECTOR MOSES

CS Link

SCENE:

Beginner's Guide To Housekeeping

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1 - Dusk, August 2019

LOCATION:

Near the North-Central Major Bridge, Upper Central

PARTICIPANTS:

Hector, Yukari
Omi, Takaonna, Tri

BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO HOUSEKEEPING

”That’s why I prefer the more hands-on jobs, ya get me? Always something to do.”

Hector didn’t need to elaborate much on that, he was sure Yukari knew what brought the Phoenixes their renown. He stretched out his bony hands before sliding them into his jean pockets. He quickly took them out again as the birds caught him off guard.

”You can speak bird, huh?”

Hector hadn’t meant it to take the piss out of Yukari, rather it was a genuine questioning of his abilities, but he swiftly moved on from it.

”Billion things happen here every day. There’s always a storm brewing, just maybe this time it’s heading our way. I don’t believe in bad omens and shit, though, I believe in me.” Hector jabbed a thumb towards his chest. He had to admit though, even if he didn’t think the birds foreshadowed anything, he too had a strong intuition that told him something may be up. Though it may have just been him catching the infectious tension in the air from the birds and Yukari, he still tensed up.

”Always be ready for anything happening.”

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

HECTOR MOSES

CS Link

SCENE:

Jingle Bells, Jingle Hell

TIME:

December 26th 2013

LOCATION:

The Metropolitan Museum, Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Kaede, Hector

JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE HELL

Hector tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, willing them to go just a little bit further down his arms. It was cold outside, and Hector was freezing. He couldn’t put his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t bring a hoodie, and he couldn’t cuddle up to the lovely lady next to him. What a miserable night. He told himself he didn’t need a new shirt, that a slightly ill-fitting one was fine. Extra money is always good. He still thought that, but resented the fact that he himself was ill-fitting for the occasion.

Damn you, Lyric.

Of course, he’d never say no to her, how could he? She took him in from nothing after a year of struggling. Sometimes he thought she played him for a fool a little too much. The trials a year prior were one thing, this was another. She knew he was better at more direct jobs, so why this? And why with her.

He looked towards Kaede as she struggled with the defective lighter. He almost didn’t want to help her, as this was the most entertained he felt all evening after listening to the bore continue to drone on with his speech. After a moment, though, he fished out his own lighter, holding it so she could see it.

”Ain’t you gonna offer me one?”

He frowned at her, looking pointedly at where she had put her cigarettes. Until she shared, she’d be getting no help from him.

”Do we have to listen to this guy?”

Hector looked up at the podium, sighing. ”No prep to do? Can’t we just go inside already?”

He was feeling restless.