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

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CAIO SANTANA COELHO
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
North District, Lab District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol (@Misuteeku) Caio
Guide to First Meetings

Handshake? Hmm, people didn’t tend to offer up touch when they realized just what he could do with touch. Still he wasn’t trying to make bad impressions so he had to be on his best behavior. He still had the innate urge to just give a taste of what he could do, but he buried that as deep as he could.

He wondered just what this dude could do considering he got a personal invite in. Maybe that was why he was so casual to reach out? Or maybe he just didn’t know. Either way he’d have to consider that later. With his taller stature it wasn’t exactly hard to match Sang’s strides.

“Dangerous huh.”

That sounded like a story that’s for sure. He’d heard the labs had been destroyed before and could only hope he wasn’t in it if it were to happen again. He took in the tour with great interest already imagining what a day in the labs might look like. He was rather surprised they actually outsourced drugs for the most part.

“So what do you bring in, and what’s made in house then? Is it just generalized or do you guys have a specialty here.”

 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
High School To Be Named, East District
DATE:
August 2018 || Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Hiachi, NPCs a la miki miki and Brii
Double Displacement

He let out a sigh. It really was going nowhere wasn’t it? Okay she was fine, that's good. But when it came down to it why was he even trying? He should have been used to it. Right? Maybe silence was better, at least she made sense when she spoke… sort of. He moved to the side resigned to the fact that he was just going to have to learn to deal with it.

Still, the anger bubbled up at having to deal with this girl as the first-ever conversation he’d had with anyone in this school. His reputation was already tanked, it was likely he was going to be dealing with the same situation for a long while. He couldn’t even blame her much, it was more his own horrible overreactions. Though the venom in his chest continued to build as he hissed out a final insult.

“Freak.”

He didn’t bother waiting for a response as he left the room. There was no amount of willpower left in him as he felt the stares of other students. He shot up the stairs to go up to the rooftop to get away. Once he got up there he could feel the tears pooling in his eyes as he furiously wiped them away sliding to the floor.

“FUCKING HELL.”

It was going to be hell on earth going to school here wasn’t it?

He just wanted things to go back to normal, but something that caused such a volatile change couldn’t go back to what it was.

 
Callista Reinhart
Scene:
Shadows On The Line
Time:
Pre Arc 1 - February 2020
Location:
Reinhart Home, South District
Participants:
Callista, Faelan
Shadows On The Line
The accusations that spilled forth from his lips carved an ache into her chest. Callista opened her mouth, but his questions were like an icy hand clasped around her neck, choking her before she could get the words out. Where would she even begin? There was so much he didn't know, so much she needed to confess. Callista felt she was losing him with each second she wasted searching for the right words. There were no right words to tell someone why you had killed the man they looked up to.

Without Faelan's presence to light up the mansion, the months following her father’s death had been dark, lonely, and laden with guilt. Callista had spent those days in idle silence — hiding away from the world and running away from this very moment of truth. Fear had overridden every bit of her good sense, and she’d chosen to abandon him rather than face the possibility of him despising her forever. She had been a selfish woman and a terrible friend. Faelan’s eyes burned with betrayal, and she dropped her gaze to the ground, unable to meet his fiery gaze.

“I had no choice,” Callista whispered, the ache of tears pressing at her throat. “You don’t know how he —” Her voice broke off as she raised her head and saw the look in Faelan’s eyes. He looked at her as if he no longer recognized the person that stood before him—a cold murderer, an evil daughter who coveted her father’s wealth, a spoiled brat who got tired of listening to her father’s wisdom. Callista's lips quivered, her hands clenched into tight fists as a wave of panic swept through her. She drew in a sharp breath and forced herself to calm down, but she could do nothing to silence the riot in her head.

“Y-You have to believe me, Faelan.” She pleaded desperately, one hand clutching her chest. It was getting harder to breathe. “He was a cruel, violent man! He’d hurt me, and… and—” Callista stopped. Even those few words raised memories of her father’s abuse, and they rattled inside her head and clamored for attention. Her arms fell limp at her sides, and her glistening eyes widened in terror. Faelan’s face blurred. She blinked and saw her father’s face, his crimson eyes seething with rage.

“What did I tell you, Callista?” He warned, his voice like rough stone, booming through the deafening silence in the room. “Not a word, my dearest. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill them... Remember what happened to that poor mutt of yours?” Yes, how could she forget? Callista stood frozen, shaking uncontrollably. He rose from the chair and started to inch closer. Run, her mind screamed, but she couldn’t. Her muscles had locked up; a flood of terror filled her mind.

“No… Y-You’re dead!” Callista cried out in disbelief. She staggered backward as her father’s looming figure grew closer with every step. Crimson eyes darted around the room as she searched for an escape. Her breathing became labored — shallow, rapid pants like an animal caught in a trap. He was dead. Yes, she watched him die. Callista was staring at a ghost. Her father had come for his vengeance at last.

desmond.png
“It’s time to pay your debts, my little marionette. Everything you own belongs to ME! You can’t get everything for nothing,”
spat Desmond with vindictive pleasure, his face twisting into a frightening appearance: ghostly pale skin, eyes wide with madness, mouth stretched upward into a malicious grin. A pathetic sound emerged from Callista’s throat, a choked wheeze. She felt like a helpless little girl once again.

“S-S-STAY AWAY FROM ME!” The heiress cried out. A vase toppled down with a loud crash as her hip made contact with a round table. Callista flinched, her heart pounding in her chest. The phantom was upon her, and she steadily moved backward, glass shards sinking into the bare flesh of her feet. A sharp pain shot through her ankle as she tripped over the table's leg and fell back. Callista ignored the pain and sought purchase, seizing a piece of the broken vase and holding it up in front of her.

“Don’t come close!!" Crimson butterflies appeared out of thin air and fluttered around Callista protectively. They multiplied in numbers and circled the approaching figure, waiting for their monarch to utter a command.


 
Last edited:
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things
LOCATION:
North District
TIME:
Pre Arc 1 || 2021
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, Nao (@tityanya)
Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things

As Nao’s enraged cry blared through the empty lot, Tak continued to avert his gaze as his hair visibly rustled from the gust of wind from her fury. Multiple beads of sweat formed on his face as his brows nervously twitched, “She’s really mad, huh?” He thought the obvious, somewhat worried about his safety.


He tried his best to not look at her, afraid that making eye contact would only enrage her further, but as he heard the faint sound of a brick scraping against the ground from being picked up, his head snapped over to look at her, the nervousness he was displaying turning into full-on fear as the upper half of his face turned into a deep blue, and his eyes went wide.


“O-Oi! There’s no need to resort to violence, you know!?”
Tak tried to speak some sense into her as he started to crawl backward, trying to build distance as Nao approached. From his perspective, her lengthy hair had hidden her face, only allowing Tak to see the malicious glints that replaced her eyes and the swirling aura of rancor that surrounded her.


Tak’s attempt to escape the situation suddenly hit a blockade as he felt the cold glass of the magazine machine bump against his back. His fearful eyes briefly looked behind him to confirm, realizing he had nowhere else to escape. He defensively raised an open palm toward Nao, sweating profusely, “Listen! I’ll pay you back, okay!? I’ll even throw in a couple grocery store coupons for toilet paper! I got some back at my apartment, so calm down, okay!?” Tak continued to try and plead for mercy, but as Nao raised the brick above her head, Tak resigned to his fate, bringing his arms in front of his face to guard himself.


Fibers of glass shattered beside him as he felt the shrapnel of flying shards bouncing off his shirt and clattering against the ground. He didn’t instantly realize what was going on, slowly moving his arms out of his face like a turtle coming out of his shell, he blinked, surprised he hadn’t been beaten to death by a brick as his eyes went wide, looking around.


That’s when he finally looked to the left of him to see what Nao had done, smashing the vending machine’s glass into pieces, sticking her hand inside to pull out the magazine he had struggled for. While this should have been a relieving fact, seeing as he wouldn’t get battered in an alleyway.


Instead, his surroundings had gone dark around the close-up shot of his expression, mouth hanging wide open as his lips curled inward to the point his cheekbones began to push out from his skin, his pupils had shrunken into the size of dots as bright red veins had webbed themselves across his whites. Shading to punctuate his expression had appeared within the creases of his brow and around his lips.


“T-T-T-T-T-T-T,” he stuttered out the beginning of a word, unable to finish it as he weakly raised a finger toward the broken glass, his hand twitching as the rest of his body was stiff. In the middle of his consternation, he didn’t even notice that Nao had desecrated the magazine he didn’t even pay good money for by ripping out one of the pages. The shift in how she spoke didn’t register to him either, not even the fact that the magazine he had suffered before was now all his.


Instead, he shot up to his feet, hands reaching forward to grab Nao by the shoulders, fingers tightly digging into her skin, looking at her with a crazed stare. “Do you have any idea what you did…?” Tak questioned through the nervous smirk that jerked along with the twitching of his left eye, which was still bloodshot.


“The cops are the last of our worries now! Without the glass--”


Tak was abruptly cut off as a haunting whistle fluttered through the lot, his blood running cold as he let go of Nao, instead bringing his hands up to his face as he screamed, “THEY’RE HEREEEE!”


Despite his shout, there was nothing, even as he looked filled with more terror than when he thought Nao would kill him; it seemed like he was going on another insane tangent. But, as Tak looked upward, his pupils dilated again, quivering within his sockets.


Lining the edges of the buildings that enclosed the lot were numerous silhouettes of people. They looked down upon Nao and Tak like vultures with their bright red eyes; there looked to be dozens of them, having seemingly come out of nowhere.


Who were they? What were they here for?


Questions would quickly be answered as one of them stepped forward, placing a foot on top of the border on the building’s roof, the moonlight basking them in a beacon that revealed their appearance.


He wore a battered orange baseball cap, covering his balding head and pushing out his graying hair. A cracked pair of swirly glasses rested upon his wrinkly face. He wore a bomber jacket riddled with holes and a grease-covered white tank top under it, paired with shorts that showed off his elderly and hairy legs.


There was no doubt about it…it was a homeless man!


And as the numerous other shadows revealed themselves, showing each to be just as impoverished and dirty, it was clear that they were all homeless men, coming in varying different sizes in shapes.


Despite that, they all came for one reason.


The homeless geezer who was first to show himself removed his glasses, revealing his beady black eyes as he looked downward with an intense gaze of analysis, the ambient winds blowing his gray hair across his bald spot.


He sucked in air through his nose as his chest expanded in preparation.


“IT’S FREE PORNO MAAAAAGGGSSSSSSS!”


He declared through his toothless mouth, gums on full display as he shouted.


“YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” All the homeless men shouted in unison, then, like a swarm of monkeys, they began to hop down from the roof and drop into the lot to stake their claim, landing in droves.


Tak watched them land, and like a child running away from an incoming wave, he turned around and began to sprint, tossing his arms up and down along with his legs as he darted toward the exit.


“RUUUUNNNNNNNNN!”
 
Denzou Ito (NPC)
SCENE:
Clad In Golden Dreams
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Denzou, Tak
Clad In Golden Dreams
His amusement ceased at the mention of her name. Denzou tried to forget it—your sister isn’t the only Hiachi in the world. He could be talking about anyone else. But it was too much of an outlier to ignore. He hadn’t seen her in more than three years. At that point, even if he was wrong, it was worth looking into.

Before he could ask who he was talking about, the server ran off. He looked in the direction that the server had escaped, and he could have sworn he saw a blur dive under a table. Denzou squinted at the table, but he couldn't make out anything other than a tall, expensive looking man.

His coworker noticed the far-off look in his gaze. He cleared his throat to catch his attention. “So. Is this about your sister?”

“Yes. Don’t patronize me,” Denzou said, waving him off with a flick of the wrist. “I don’t care if she’s run off to the west. She’s caused everyone enough trouble; I won’t play tag. What I do need to know is if she’s a part of a gang. Because then that puts all of us in danger.”

The man grimaced. He hadn’t even mentioned feeling any pity for him, and yet he had gone off on his long-winded monologue on why he had to find his sister. Whom he allegedly didn’t even care for. Perhaps this was why no one liked him.

But of course, he had invited Denzou himself. He watched Denzou, disappointed, as he started digging through his wallet.

“Say, how much of a tip do you think would it take for him to bring me ‘Hiachi’?”

“Hah. And you say you’re not a gangster,” His coworker joked, and he was met with silent scorn. “Yikes. Um… a twenty?”

And so Denzou fished a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and held it in his hands. “Remind me to talk to him again. He shouldn’t be hard to find.”


 
Dagger
SCENE:
Catch A Tiger By The Tail
TIME:
Past Midnight, October 9, 2021 | Between Arc 2 and Arc 3
LOCATION:
Markus' Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
???
Catch A Tiger By The Tail

She was never any good at most things that did not involve jamming the tip of her knife into a skull, but first aid had been one of the things that was excluded from that rule. To the monarch’s credit, the sting of the alcohol and the pressure she had applied to his new addition to the album of scars he had kept caused him little discomfort, except for an accidental slip of her hand. She allowed herself one mouthful of the surviving bottle of whiskey that she had used for her employer’s wounds, the liquid scratching her throat as it made its way down.

Never again. She set the bottle down, and continued to work on her patient. He should have called her. He should have let her settle his affairs of war for him. That was her duty, wasn’t it? The blade, the bullet, whatever she was to the Tigers, her one job was to kill all who stood in the way. What was the point of a knife that remained in its sheath? She grimaced. His pride was his greatest folly. Powerful as he might think he was, his strength was worth nothing if he was dead. He wasn’t throwing bodies at the problem like other leaders she could think of, but it wasn’t out of care of his soldiers. It was because he was too much of a goddamn idiot to think that he should. A show of strength.

Look where that got him.

His body shifted, and his voice breathed out a word that she swore she never thought she’d hear from him. His expression was unreadable, at least from her perspective. She did note that his complexion was starting to look slightly healthier. The blood loss was still a problem, though. Dogtags had a use for such a situation, and, unfortunately, the King did not have one. She pressed her hand against his chest, and pushed him back against the chair. “Don’t talk.”

So weak, yet so strong. A certain sense of resolute fragility. All of these drew her in, even if she was unaware of it. Even now, it was the only thing that kept her one eye focused on his. Even if she was incapable of understanding his expression, she could only see one thing in his eyes. This was a mistake, surely. Yet, she felt no intention to draw away.




 
Eustass "Purge" Finnegan ft. (NPCs) Ryoji Kurotsuchi and Daiki Nishikaze
SCENE:
A Lion's Pride
LOCATION:
West District; Tigers' Lair
PARTICIPANTS:
Eustass, Mugen, Camila, Tak, Ryutaro, Welsha, Passeri, Dagger, Hiachi, (NPCs) Daiki and Ryoji
A LION'S PRIDE
Some stood back and watched—

At the hand raised by Mugen, Daiki fell into place behind him, repairing their initial one-two-one formation, and let the weary smile retain residence upon his face. Ryoji’s katana eased an inch into its saya, several more inches of gleaming steel still drawn. Eustass stayed glaring at the white-haired wolf, her gun ever ready.

“Mugen,” the Lion spoke his name to the wolf, as requested and despite Daiki’s introduction.

—Others made themselves known.

“Charmed.” A captivating woman departed with her sheep’s cloak and stepped forth. Another wolf? A fox?

Ryoji’s grip tightened around his hilt; he didn’t trust it. Daiki’s smile softened; he did. Or did he?

Eustass adjusted his stance, beads of sweat sliding down his bare spine as he contemplated action, adrenaline surging and subsiding with each indulgence of imagination. He wanted that gun. He could make it quick.

Silvery words eluded him, muffled by the pounding of his heart in his ears.

When another hand was rest upon the weapon, reality hooked him and pulled him to, eyes widening with the realization that he’d zoned out. How long? He was prone to disruptive wanderings of the mind.

She observed him briefly, the chatty woman, and Eustass glared in return, sighting her through the gaps between the bodies he hid behind.

“How about we ease up a tad? Put the steel and iron away?”

Ryoji gave a blunt, “Hmph,” and Daiki a dry, “I couldn’t agree more,” but Ryoji sheathed his sword nonetheless.

The woman went on—an apology, an excuse, a compliment, then an outstretched hand. “Park. Let's get along, okay?” Mugen took it.

After that, the front of the group proceeded to the center of the room, Eustass lagging behind. He’d let his mind frolic again to entertain violent desires, but he soon scrambled to catch up when, beside him, the voice of one slick-haired blond took him by surprise.

He hadn’t heard the neighboring elevator’s chime to signal its doors opening, thus he hadn’t noticed the man’s arrival, only his proclamation—“You’re speaking to him.”—in response to Mugen’s summons for the man in charge.

His presence demanded attention, and he got it. Daiki and Ryoji, both, faced the direction whence they’d come.

Eustass crouched to the floor, four fingers to stabilize himself, and kept quiet, scowling. The man and Mugen were shared in an unspoken conversation, it seemed, briefly entangled in something that the rest could not perceive.

The man moved, sauntering over to the bar within, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Cubes of ice clinked behind his next words, “Now. Tell me, why are you here?”

Eustass tilted his head at that, appearing offended. “Huh?” He checked over his shoulder to ensure a comfortable distance stayed between himself and the other merry men. “What the fuck kinda-.. k-.. kinda question is-.. is-.. FUCK YOU! You said he-”“Eustass,” Daiki hissed. — “-got the-.. the-..”“Excuse him,” Daiki again, timid hands coming up as he stepped closer to the shirtless hooligan.

An abrupt change in focus, Eustass eyed the white-wolf in her coffin of shadows, “I want that one.”

Perhaps there had been some miscommunication during the trip to New Oasis, but Eustass was under the full impression that they had come to set an example in blood…

Every muscle in his body coiled to spring, and his eyes glazed over, impulse snagging the reins. It was only a matter of time before he pounced.
EUSTASS NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: Slight summary of other posts. Eustass gets aggressive with Ryutaro then declares Dagger as his target.

— —WEARING: No shirt, no shoes. Has on a pair of loose, black pants. (CLICK HERE)

— —WEAPON: He doesn't have it on him. Crowbar Saw (CLICK HERE)

(Interacting w/ specifically Dagger, Ryutaro, Passeri; Mugen, Camila, Tak, Welsha, Hiachi)
(Mentioned no one)
Elenion Aura Elenion Aura simj26 simj26 Roda the Red Roda the Red thebigfella thebigfella joshuadim joshuadim Peckinou Peckinou The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit miki miki
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet
LOCATION:
South District
TIME:
May 3rd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, Milo ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet



It all began with the calming hymns of a steady stream of water.

A small pond, a barrier built with differently sized and colored rocks. Its clear blue hue reflected the sunlight off its surface while koi of different sizes and patterns swam elegantly through the small space as if participating in a dance.

The clacking impact of hollow bamboo accompanied the splashes of spilling water as the nearby shishi-odoshi once again filled to capacity, its routine clamoring acting as white noise. It echoed throughout the empty courtyard as the perspective slowly floated outward, revealing the pond to only be one small part of the estate. The vast open space was filled with delicately cared-for flora, from vibrant flowers to large bonsai, only separated by a single cobblestone pathway that paved the way to the main building.

Large wooden posts supported the traditionally curved roof, a large veranda stretching across the entirety of the front, the wood flooring finely polished. The large wooden door that acted as the entrance was sealed shut. Its thickness is clearly meant to keep out unwanted intruders…

Assuming they ever got past the barricade out front. Before one could even step into the courtyard, they faced a massive brick wall adorned with similar shingles that adorned the curved roof and an even larger red door in defense. Its paint was disrupted by scars and scratches, remnants of history from a war long since past.

However, instead of keeping out an entire army like in the past, this stout wooden door kept out one man. He stood at the front with one hand scratching through his bright blue hair while the other handled the canvas duffle bag hanging over his shoulder.

He looked slightly apprehensive, a small bead of sweat going down the side of his face as he looked upon the gigantic pair of doors. He nervously smiled as he silently stared at it.
token_1.png

“...This is the place, right?” He sheepishly questioned, despite no one being there to answer. He had been standing out here for a bit, and there was no one else around; the road had been entirely quiet, as this place had no neighbors in sight. He had to walk 40 minutes to get here since he had no car!

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the piece of paper he had used to guide him here again; there was no doubt about it. This was the place. But weren’t there supposed to be other winners of this thing? Was he just that early? Was it canceled? Just as he prepared to start running through the motions of everything that could have gone wrong, footsteps nearby roused him from his thoughts.


“Oh, someone else is finally here!” He positively thought, a warm smile coming onto his face as he felt relieved. Turning to greet whoever it was, he raised his hand in a short wave. “Yo! How’s it--”

His voice clogged in his throat as his face instantly went pale, eyes blanking as his whole art style turned incredibly simplified, mouth hanging open as he froze in place, mind going blank.

He hoped he would be looking at someone who seemed more knowledgeable about the situation than him or at least someone who was just as lost as him. But instead, who stood there was a man who looked entirely out of place. His hair was a mess, not to mention his uneven shave. He wasn’t even carrying anything for supplies, only the wrinkled tracksuit clothing on his body.

His pupilless eyes looked entirely uninterested and unaware as he absentmindedly dug a finger in his nose, looking back at him in silence as he didn’t speak a word in greeting. The awkward silence drifted in the air for a moment before the blue-haired man wordlessly stared back at him until his brain finally started work again.

“U-Uh, you’re not here for the understudy, are you?” He cautiously asked, an eyebrow twitching as a nervous half-smile had found a home on his expression.

“With the Barker guy? Yeah, I am,” The black-haired ruffian casually replied, picking at his nose without care.

More sweat began to form on the blue-haired man’s brow as the fact that this was one of his fellow artists dawned on him; he was so blown away by this fact that he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why?”


“Why?”


Tak repeated the question out loud to hear it again. It was a good one; why was he out in South District, miles away from home, to hang out at some random artist’s estate? One he didn’t even know anything about.

Well, that’s because he was invited. He was invited because he had won some kinda contest. He didn’t even remember what it was about; after all, he always joined stuff in the hopes of getting free stuff. So when he was invited to “study under an accomplished artist,” he was ready to toss the invitation out and go about his business.

But just as he prepared to toss the letter in the trash, he recalled something about art, the one redeeming quality that made such a skill redeemable in his eyes.

Tak’s gaze narrowed as he remembered he had come here for one thing, precisely one thing, and he wasn’t going to leave until he saw it.

So, as the question of ‘why’ came up, the uncaring look he gave melted away as he placed his hands on his hips, looking downward as his messy hair cast a shadow over his eyes. He started to chuckle as if the question was a joke.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He responded to the question with another question, raising his head as he placed a finger on his temple, smirking.

“I’m here to study the arts!”

 
Brandy Baker
SCENE:
Captives of The System
TIME:
~2004, Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Brandy Baker & Caio Santana Coelho
Captives of The System
If it were possible, Brandy's face would've been stained with an even deeper shade of red. Her eyes darted between the wad of cash and the boy who held it, while her tongue worked to unfurl the knots and loops that her shock had tangled it into. Whether he was rich or not, the fact that the boy was walking around with all that didn't change.

"That's... That's...!" She fruitlessly searched for words that might've had her come off as a bit less of a 'little munchkin'. "Super cool!" But found none, after all. "Weren't you scared!? I- That-"

"!!!"

"That's really cool!" Her eyes glimmered, and she shuffled closer to the boy. It wasn't like her to get excited like this, but then again, she didn't typically have much to get excited about in the first place. Maybe she was like this, and had just never known. She didn't know. What she did know, though, was that this glittering sense of awe fluttering within her?

It felt nice.

"For sure!!! Yes!! Please! It's a deal!" She clasped the boy's hand, the one that wasn't filled with what Brandy imagined was enough cash to buy a castle, and shook it vigorously. "No takebacks! I'll be really mad if you just run off, okay!?" Her eyes bore into his with pure, innocent intent. "Let's buy a- Um- A..."

A...

She pondered for a moment. Money was all well and good, but she'd never spent more than a few dollars before. Being faced with this much was befuddling.

"...A big TV? Maybe? Um. Or a whole chicken...?" Her excitement settled a little. "W-what do people even spend that much money on, anyway?"

 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Rain on the Mountaintop
LOCATION:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 28th
LOCATION:
Borgo Orecchiette, Fusilli
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Passeri, Jackson, Jesper, Pascal, Milo, Gav
RAIN ON THE MOUNTAINTOP
Milo started making plates for the both of them. He piled on a little bit of everything, creating a mountain of food that was almost more impressive than the spread itself. He made sure to get some of those rolls for Boltius, noticing how much his friend seemed to be fixated on them. All along the way, he couldn't help but chuckle at both Bolt's enthusiasm and his dramatics; it was infectious in its own way.

With their plates full, Milo nodded toward the chaise lounge where Passeri was seated, her eyes scanning the room. Milo made a small gesture with his free hand, hoping Bolt would get the message. His voice was hushed when he said, "Not yet. We've got time."

"For now, let's eat."
He whispered, giving Boltius a reassuring pat on the back as they passed Passeri where she sat. Milo felt a mixture of anticipation and anxiety knotting up in his stomach as they passed her, wondering if waiting for the "right" moment was the right call. What if that moment never came? He knew that every choice here was crucial, that whatever he accomplished—or failed to accomplish—would decide what options were available to him once he returned to New Oasis, and reality.

But Passeri Park wasn't the only thing on his mind this weekend...

Milo and Boltius sat down at the table with their plates piled high, trying to blend in with the crowd. As he ate, Milo watched Boltius, making sure he was getting on alright, considering he was 'down an arm'. Their codependency had never progressed to the point of feeding one another, and Milo doubted that such a thing was necessary here. Though, wait... Why was he thinking such a strange thing like that now, out of the blue? If he considered it for a moment, Milo thought he knew why: ever since the earthquake, ever since he'd seen Boltius almost... As he sat there, staring at his friend in between bites of ham, Milo realized that more than anything, more than Park, more than his own aims and machinations, for the here and now, he just wanted to enjoy this time with his friend, and he wanted Bolt to enjoy it, too.

But to ensure that, maybe convincing Bolt that this was all some kind of a mission had been a mistake.

"Hey, Bolt. Look over here." Milo said as he held up his phone's camera. "Say 'cheese'."

Milo snapped the picture immediately, without giving him much time to react. The camera flashed, and the memory was captured. Milo could barely hold back the giddy, goofy smile that threatened to spread across his face.

 
SHEN YUE
SCENE:
Clouds at the Summit
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, March 21st, 2017
LOCATION:
Millennium Hall, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Shen
CLOUDS AT THE SUMMIT
Shen cocked his head to one side, his gaze unblinking, unbroken, and piercing. He was puzzled by Hifumi's formality, finding it better suited to stuffy old men, like Hifumi's father and his own uncle. Couldn't the two of them just speak plainly?

With a gentle smile, Shen decided to try a different approach.

"Oh! Have you seen the koi?"

Without waiting for Hifumi's acquiescence or even his acknowledgement of whether he'd seen the koi pond yet or not, Shen grabbed the younger boy by the sleeve of his hanfu. With a tug that could not be denied, he ferried Hifumi along the winding path that led to the secluded pond nestled within the outer grounds that comprised Moonshadow Sanctuary.

As they navigated the stone-paved path, flanked by blooming cherry blossoms and swaying bamboo, Shen led Hifumi to the hidden oasis. The ancient koi pond lay deep within the mountains that sheltered Moonshadow Sanctuary. Shen thought that it had been here long before the temple rose up around it. He liked to think that it would be here long after it all turned back to dust.

The pond itself was a wonder. Lush greenery surrounded the water's edge, and the surface shimmered with the reflection of the fast-setting sun. The vibrant koi swam gracefully beneath the lily pads, their brilliant colors creating a mesmerizing dance of orange, white, and black. A small stone bridge arched over the pond. Shen led them to it.

On the far end of the bridge, in the heart of the pond, a small moss-covered island rose gently above the tranquil water's surface. At the center stood a modest shrine, built from weathered gray stone. Years of exposure had softened its edges, its surfaces adorned with patches of vibrant green moss.

A simplistic torii gate, also made from stone, marked the entrance to the sacred space. The gate's arching form seemed to embrace the island. A stone pathway, meandering through the lush, damp carpet of moss, connected the bridge to the torii gate, and the gate to the shrine itself. It was not the way of the High Families, or the Dragons, to create something so unpretentious, so understated. This place belonged to some other time.

And so, as Shen stood in the bridge's center, caught between the island shrine and opposite shore, he couldn't help but feel a sense of ease wash over him, as if he stood on the threshold of two worlds. It was the same way it always felt whenever he'd come here as a child. He turned to his newfound friend with a warm smile.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Shen asked, his eyes transfixed on the waters below.

The sun dipped further below the horizon. Night was falling.

 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Back in the Game
LOCATION:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 5th
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo
BACK IN THE GAME
Milo winced. "Schmucks" seemed a little harsh, he thought... Until he got another look at Hitoshi. The unkempt appearance of his fellow bodyguard didn't exactly inspire confidence.

With Charlie clambering into the back with their... Opinionated client and her strange companion, Milo filed in to the passenger's front seat and buckled his belt. He'd seen the way Hitoshi drove a hotdog truck. He wasn't taking any chances.

All the while Milo had been quietly observing the exchange between Charlie and Elizabeth. "Elizabeth". He thought she didn't quite look like an Elizabeth to him, but he was not one to pry. If he was, he would've asked her what the deal was with the doll, anyway?

After another less-than-cordial jab, Milo decided to chime in. "Don't worry, Elizabeth. Our priority is your safety, and we'll be attentive and focused on that. Some of us might enjoy the sights of the zoo, but that won't compromise our mission." He gazed at her through the rearview mirror, trying to gauge whether the message was received. Milo would've been lying if he claimed not to feel a certain protectiveness over Charlie, despite the other boy technically being his senior.

Milo leaned back in his seat, glancing out the window as the car moved through the streets of Boustan. Despite the high-end neighborhood and the luxurious lifestyle Elizabeth was accustomed to, Milo couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this job than just a simple trip to the zoo. The involvement of private military contractors hinted at something deeper, but for now, he decided not to dwell on it. They would deal with any issues as they arose, just as they always did.

"Say... That's a pretty, uh... Interesting... Doll you have with you. What's that about?" Milo asked after a short hesitation. Okay, even his curiosity had its limits!

 
VULKEN BECKMAN
SCENE:
Crossed Lines
LOCATION:
The Mirage Diner, South District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1: November 11th, 2014
PARTICIPANTS:
Vulken, Zane
CURRENT STAGE:
1 (Current Temp: 650 °F | 343°C )
CROSSED LINES

This little…

Zane’s composure only served to further shake Vulken’s. This false display of respect made his fists tighten so much that they slowly changed into a lighter shade with the lack of blood-flow. Every tooth in this guy’s smug-ass grin made him want to incinerate him more and more— to just let go and set him aflame until there was no blood, no bone— no ash.

His scowl deepened, eyebrows furrowing more with every idle second. The faint, transparent red around him symbolized his feelings. The rage, the bloodlust, the pain… everything was out on clear display for all to see.

As of this moment, Vulken planned on killing the man in front of him as he blatantly tossed money onto the floor of the restaurant. And, while some– including the person he was doing all of this for in the first place– might not agree with his decision, in his defense, he was still a bit… tense, following the loss of his friend a few years back. Though he was twenty-one years old now, he had still yet to fully recover from Mika’s death– whether or not he ever would was unknown. To lose one friend… and to possibly almost lose another so soon…

He couldn’t allow that. He wouldn’t. So, he had to die.

Nobody else, He had vowed to himself the night Mika had been killed, a rare stream of tears endlessly flowing down his face. Not while I'm here.

"Y'think this is a fuckin' joke, huh..."

Suddenly, another flash of memories of his best friends beaten-up face popped up within his mind, like some sort of morbid slideshow. And when it had finally ended, Vulken had found himself with his hand tightly gripping Zane’s face, using his body to twist and violently launch him through the closest window in the diner and out onto the cold autumn concrete.

Relax, He warned himself, ignoring the sounds of startled bystanders and fragmented glass exploding against the sharp, hard ground outside to take a second and breathe. Make this prick suffer. For YY.

…But he couldn’t. The flames of his fury had already burned away any resolve he had left, leaving nothing behind but a raging conflagration of vengeance. His booted feet moved on their own now, carrying him over to the new entrance he had just launched his opponent through and stepping over it to meet him outside.

...

BluEndings BluEndings
 
Peyton Xiong
LOCATION:
At a Food Truck, North District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 || June 9th, 2017
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Raphael
Carmine Consort
Despite being told to lead the way, Peyton really had no idea of where they were going to go, only that he was looking for a snack for the two of them. It was just an aimless wander across the rainy slush of the North. Their feet splashed into puddles as they navigated the mucky Northern district. Peyton squeezed the hem of his hoodie a bit, trying to get the blood out. Unfortunately, he only succeeded in reddening his hands. He didn't know if the sight of both of them covered in blood would cause them to be denied entry in some places.

Finally, after a bit more walking, Peyton found a place. It was a food truck open late into the night, the interior white fluorescent lighting juxtaposing the oily night air. And it sold takoyaki. Peyton returned Raph's earlier eyebrow raise with a crooked grin matching Raph's vibe, all exposed canines and with a depraved look in his eyes. He joked, "Wanna stop by here? Cause if we don't, you're starting to look so tasty that there's a chance I might end up jumping you!"

Good job, Peyton. That was totally the right thing to say, especially when he had been explicitly trying to not trigger Raph's bloodlust. Rather hastily, Peyton sought to correct himself.

"But if that happens, you get to show me why I deserve to grovel at your heels, right?" Peyton asked. It wasn't quite a good response, but hopefully it would get Peyton out of trouble. Half-hopefully. There was still a part of Peyton that felt like it would be fun to have a brawl with Raph.

It took only a minute for Peyton to buy a large boat filled with perfectly round fried balls of takoyaki. Peyton took one from the fried balls, almost burning his fingers in the process, and brought them up to his lips. An explosion of gummy octopus, savory batter, and spicy mayo burst into his mouth. Especially the spicy mayo, which was a surprising explosion of heat that was definitely atypical for mayo.

"Wew! That's strong!" Peyton opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to fan the heat out. Turning to fellow junior Serpent, Peyton picked up one of the takoyaki balls with his forefinger and thumb and offered it to Raph, "Wanna give it a try?"

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
"NAOMI BLECHER" (MIMI)
SCENE:
[The Woodsman and The Duckling]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Backstreets, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Mimi
THE WOODSMAN AND THE DUCKLING
This guy really looked up to this ‘professor’ huh?

Mimi wasn’t especially fond of his replies themselves, but his manner of speaking was enough to ward off any irritation. To argue against those points was about the same as arguing against herself. These were things she knew, and had doubts about. The way she had lowered her head and swallowed her pride to even join up with a band of crooks like this was evidence enough of her fragility.

“Yeah…” She lightly touched her face, and swore.

Her eyes narrowed, but her scowl did not reform. Instead she tossed the flimsy package into a growing puddle before placing both her hands against the adjacent wall. Like before, the rubble twisted and groaned until it formed the shape of a person. It was taller this time, and its features sharp. There were no fingers or hands, just long pointed blades for limbs and a height that dwarfed both individuals.

“This is my bodyguard.” She heaved. “I’m not about to try and navigate my way back here in this weather. So you better be content with leading the way.”

She made occasional glances at the discarded package, with an oddly glum expression, until the freshly formed golem stepped right atop it. Then it stepped again. And again. And again. It didn’t stop stomping until the contents were a fine paste addled by the damp rain.

“I’m not a gopher.”

But prideful obviously.
NAVIGATE
 
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ZANE RIDDLE
SCENE:
[DOUBLE TAKE]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Shady's Motel | Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Zane
DOUBLE TAKE
The beat of his boots was a slow and haughty pace that tread the outskirts of the room. From the curtains, to the racks, to the nightstand. The visitor hobbled around, and brushed the multitude of equipment with a minacious stroke, and a darkened gaze without so much as a word. There was a shine to his glasses, and a soft curl to his lips until the rumbling movement came to a halt.

“Why so perplexed?” His stormy gray eyes peaked over his shades. “The moment I heard the news I practically ran, hopped, and skipped over.”

He set a basket of fruit down beside the bed, and let silence soak in.

A ticking clock.

Tapping fingers.

Beeping equipment.

“I ain’t here to say crap you already know.” Zane murred. “Shit ain’t sweet. It’s been one hell after another, so what’s this fuckery about?”

The coyness in his tone from years ago was all but gone.

“If a lout like me can blow the lid off this thing and waltz right in. What’s that say?”

He wasn’t looking for an answer.

“I didn’t come here to criticize you.” He chided. “You should know I hate peeping folks at their worst, but you’re more than just some ‘folk’. You’re Queen, ain’tcha?” His cheeky demeanor returned. “Congrats.”

“I was sure you’d have kicked the bucket by now.”

That’d explain the black suit.
NAVIGATE
 
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Helva Linxal
SCENE:
To live in the shadows
LOCATION:
Falcons Perch, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Helva, Charlie Roda the Red Roda the Red
To live in the shadows

Helva smile waned as their waiter scampered off to get their order of coffee, and she soon went back to door watching, the place was growing to be more packed than she initially thought it would be. Not something Helva was really fond of, since that would mean more witnesses if their targets decided to be brazen with their approach, and considering their gangs name was the Raging Bulls, she was sure they were gonna have a pretty direct approach.

However it didn't take long before their waiter had came back with both their food and the coffee they ordered, Helva gave a nod of thanks to the boy as she then started sipping her tea, and watching the steam protrude from the coffee cup. It took a moment before she started to actually touch her food, taking small but deliberate bites from her plate, as she waited, not wanting to allow herself to get full since it wouldn't really do her well in combat. It was a bit of a wait, but eventually 3 men had entered the Restraunt, each of them looked to be in their mid thirties, with one of them towering over the rest, likely the muscle man of the group, the other two seemed to still be taller or as tall as Helva, but it was clear from the matching uniforms that they were her targets.

The group however didn't waste any time in starting a commotion with the poor girl at the front desk, quickly delving into a argument with them, before making demands to see the manager, one of the smaller men even went on to draw their sword on the woman. Causing most of the Restraunt to go silent some even booking for the emergency exits. Helva on the other hand was unfazed by the show they put on, she honestly had hoped they would at least have the courtesy to be more subtle about things, but what could you expect from a gang that called themselves the Raging Bulls. Helva pulled the hot coffee towards her, and then called out to the group, "Don't you idiots got something else to do that bother folks here? especially in territory that is not yours? " that comment quickly got the 3 guys attention, the one with the sword pointed at the front desk recipient quickly went on to storm towards Helvas table, asking "What the hell are you on about you bitch? trying to fucking die? If so I'll answer that Death Wish for you, cause this territory is now under the Raging Bulls! and if you got any questions about it, I'll chop your dam head off!" Dispite the fact the man was approaching her, Helva remained perfectly calm, as she looked towards the raging man heading in her direction.

 
Cleo "PIXEL" Silva
SCENE:
Walkies ("Dog" Walkers Needed)
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — TBA
LOCATION:
Silva Residence, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Silva, Nero, Hiachi, Nicole, Renjiro, Ottilie
WALKIES ("DOG" WALKERS NEEDED)
“Chill, bro, chill. These're my friends. They're gonna help out with the li'l buddies.”

Silva looked between the faces, bobbing his head up and down, “Ahhh-haha, okay!…. Silva will come, too, sí?” It wasn’t a question; rather, a statement as he sauntered into the living room to lean, with his elbows, against the couch behind Javi.

As he did, the one in the hazmat suit introduced herself, “Hello, I'm Ottilie,” and Silva snickered. She approached each person in the room and took their hand, but Silva went a step further and executed an elaborate, freestyle shake. “Nooo, you ‘ave to do it like dis, amiga- Ah~ Ooh~ Paah~” Then when the handshake was concluded, he wiggled her head around by the helmet and moved on, making for the kitchen.

There, wherein Mila Silva stood prepping lunch, Silva wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head, “Buen días, mamá.”

“Mmm~” she hummed pleasantly, patting Silva’s arm. “Cleo.”

Overhearing Ottilie’s list of transgressions on part of Javi’s familiars, a weary sigh escaped her, “Ai. Have mercy.”

“Aha, mamáaa~.” Silva leaned with his back to the counter, arms crossed. “Go eeeasy on them.”

Mila turned to the sink and shook her head—a dismissive wave of the hand before she submerged it in warm, soapy water and plucked from it a cloth and dish.

Looking over the unfinished food prep like it were laid out for the taking, Silva told her, “Sabes que Javi y Rocco, Luvi, Grio y Tibur- Mamá, they are a package… There is no one... sin el otro~”

“No me sermonees, Cleo.” Mila dried her hands on her apron.

Silva made a forfeiting gesture and said nothing; he only smiled behind his mask.

“Take care of those people, and take care of Javi.” After a pause, “And come home.” So that I know you are safe.
SILVA NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: Silva shakes Otter's hand then goes to the kitchen with Mama Silva.

— —WEARING: Aviator cap + Goggles & Mask; Crop-top hoodie; Sweatpants, rolled up and hemmed at the knees

— —HAIR: Green this time. He smells harshly of chemicals.

— —PIXELS: Currently wielding some. No constructs in this post.

(Interacting w/ Ottilie directly; Nero, Renjiro, Nicole)
(Mentioned no one)
Elenion Aura Elenion Aura @Saturn_moon @Beann miki miki @Infab
 
SCENE:
Drunk Walk Home
LOCATION:
Alleyway, Central District
TIME:
I forgor 💀
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Tar
DRUNK WALK HOME

“Oh Hiachi.” Tar kept their hands out while Hiachi delivered the gloves to them, slowly, they put one on. With the other hand, not yet concealed, they lunged out for another grab, only to retreat back quickly with another guttural laugh. It was just a test, they wanted to see her flinch. “Hiachi, you think I would actually hurt you? Hurt you?” They donned the second glove, and put their hands over their hips, looking down at Hiachi as though they were a parent scolding her. “I know you think so little of me. So little of me.”

Into their jacket they reached, and out came the gun that they had put away a minute ago.

“But you don’t even know my name, Hiachi.”

They waved it in her face again, how familiar.

“What do you think my name is, Hiachi? You can guess it with letters, like hangman…”

The gun stopped, pointed between her eyes.

“With you being the man.”

Another laugh.

”So let’s start, Hiachi.”

 
Gideon Gray
LOCATION:
Premier Motors, South District
TIME:
April 1st, 2022 | Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Gideon, Zulin
Loose Exhibition
Zulin stepped out of the car momentarily and vanished into the back of the dealership, leaving Gideon alone. His absence worried Gideon in more ways than one, and Gideon sought to deal with this by tapping his fingers restlessly on the dashboard. What sort of tomfoolery was Zulin up to? Also, when was he getting back? Gideon was getting nervous without the gremlin's support. What if someone came up to him and asked him about something? Granted, nearly nobody was left in the building, so Gideon's fears were unfounded, but that didn't stop them from manifesting.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Zulin was back, jumping back into the passenger seat next to Gideon. Gideon tried to peek over to see what Zulin had grabbed from the office building, but Zulin was furtively hiding it from sight. The only thing that Gideon saw was his grin, filled with the promises of atrocities.

The next part of Zulin's plan needed the cameras disabled. But unfortunately, Gideon's Potential was only a one-way connection with others. While he could project thoughts, he had no idea what the other person was thinking.

"Sorry, Zulin, but my Potential doesn't work like that," Gideon said abashedly. If only his Potential was that useful. But he had something else up his sleeve that might be able to help disable the cameras a bit. Almost proudly, Gideon pulled out a silenced Nerf gun loaded with suction darts-- perfect for blinding a camera. He offered them to Zulin with a mischievous twist on his features. "But I got this. You're the better shot here. Wanna give it a whirl?"


Peckinou Peckinou
 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Test Drive
LOCATION:
Copper's Bar, North District
TIME:
2019, Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Caio BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
TEST DRIVE

Darius nodded a little too eagerly at Caio’s warning, filled with dread at the thought of the King coming after him. “My lips are sealed.” It was a little reassuring to hear him relate, but it did nothing to increase the little trust Darius had for him right now as he looked at the new drinks. He finished off his existing drink quickly, taking the new one. Now he wasn’t sure if Caio was this irresponsible a drinker, or if he was trying to get him intentionally plastered. He couldn’t think of any reason why he would do the latter, but his guard remained up.

Darius locked eyes with Caio’s prying gaze for a moment, before looking away in shame as they questioned him. He didn’t want to admit he was scared, but he knew it was something he was terrible at hiding. That’s why he kept out of the way in most gang affairs. He was good at being underestimated, but that was little help in this case. Darius had figured by now that acting dumb on the whole contaminated thing was useless though, and sighed.

“My potential, it hurts me just like it hurts other people… That’s why I don’t like to use it, but words gotten out from a few accidents. It really isn’t a big deal though.” Darius slowly brought his eyes back up to Caio, who continued to encroach too far into his personal space. “I’m sorry… boss,” he wasn’t sure what to call him now that he knew he didn’t like his alias either, “I just haven’t really talked much with the leadership, I didn’t think you knew I existed. I won’t hide anything from you.”

The eye contact was too much to take again, so Darius returned to his drink.

 
Gideon Gray
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
LOCATION:
Kiki's Eatery
TIME:
Post Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Hitoshi, Ashley, Charlie, Gideon and Kaede
GET(TING) HELP
600 pounds? Just how much muscle did Charlie hide underneath his physique? Even with his HP strength, Gideon would be lucky if he could do a quarter of that weight. Gideon realized that he probably needed to train somewhere else before he could stand with Charlie.

The Belgian waffle was served topped with blueberries and quartered strawberries with whipped cream. Based on the lack of pattern with the whipped cream, Gideon had the inkling of a suspicion that it was made in house. But as Gideon began to pick up his utensils, Hitoshi brought up an issue that Gideon definitely should've thought about. How was he going to eat this? He should've gotten something more manageable, like scrambled eggs.

"No no no I don't need help," Gideon insisted, his face turning beet red when Charlie rose to help him, "I've got this. I'm not some kid."

Gideon stabbed his fork into the waffle and picked the entire thing up. He eyed the monstrosity of a waffle, thinking of the best way to attack it. After finding the smallest portion, Gideon bit into it, earning himself a blob of whipped cream on the tip of his nose and on his cheeks. Sweet refreshing cream, tropical fruitiness, and fulfilling breadiness filled Gideon's mouth. But he couldn't eat a waffle like this. It was nearly barbaric.

And so, Gideon set the waffle back down to grab his napkin and wipe away the drops of whipped cream that were on his nose and cheeks that burned with shame. Rather defeatedly, Gideon avoided eye contact with anybody and acquiesced with Charlie's offer, "Sure, go at it. Thanks for the help, Charlie."

It was a utter shame that this fearsome villain was reduced down to the point where he couldn't even eat bite sized food.

Roda the Red Roda the Red joshuadim joshuadim
Lucem Lucem Sei Shonagon Sei Shonagon WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
ELIZABETH KAARSTADT
CS Link
SCENE:
Back in the Game
TIME:
Post Arc-3; July 5
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo
BACK IN THE GAME

Elizabeth didn't respond to Milo's initial reassurances about both the Phoenixes' professionalism as well as their ability to balance work and some relief. That was something she was expecting in the first place with regards to whomever was assigned to guard her. But his other question caught her attention as she looked away from her phone and towards the front of the car. She remained quiet for a moment, rather unsure of how to exactly phrase it. She had the doll cradled in her other arm in between her elbow and chest as she looked to it and then back to Milo.

"...he's my friend." she stated, "I've had him since forever. Johnny helps me whenever I need it."

The car lurched slightly as Hitoshi turned the car around a corner, but he also kept listening in to the conversation while behind the wheel. Doesn't she have any actual friends...?

"He's always been more reliable than people."


Roda the Red Roda the Red Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
JAVI ONEIRO SILVA
SCENE:
Walkies ("Dog" Walkers Needed)
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Silva Residence, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Nero, Hiachi, Silva, Nicole, Renjiro, Ottilie
WALKIES ("DOG" WALKERS NEEDED)
Nero, noticing Ottilie as she fumbled with her suit, set Rocco down on the floor and moved to lend her a hand, wincing as she mentioned the skatepark. He still got dirty looks whenever he went back there. "Ho- hold up. Turn this way," he said, struggling to find the seam for the zipper that would free his friend from her bubble suit. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in focus. Ottilie the space cadet was trying to help him out, but their efforts ended up canceling each other out. She zigged. He zagged. They were right back where they started.

“Ahhh-haha, okay!…. Silva will come, too, sí?”

Even as the battle with the hazmat suit continued, Nero made time to smile and nod. "Claro, bro. Of course!" Silva knew his little buddies better than anyone else. He was always welcome.

Meanwhile, Rocco, having been unceremoniously dumped from his roost, took a moment to leer witheringly at his creator before promptly forgetting any offense. The sight of the woman on the couch piqued the little creature's curiosity. He waddled over to the loveseat where she sat, blissfully unaware of the way she squirmed as he approached. Peering up at her with wide, empty white eyes, Rocco tilted his alien head and snapped his beak, trilling inquisitively up at her.

For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. Then—

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

Marisa shrieked so loud it turned every head in the house. In her panic, she scrambled backward, clumsily clambering up and over the rear of the loveseat. The momentum sent her tumbling to the hardwood floor with a painful thud.

Fueled by adrenaline, Marisa scurried on her hands and knees, making a beeline for the exit. Desperately, she scrambled to her feet and lunged for the doorknob. Fumbling with the handle, she tried and failed to push the door open (it swung inward). After a few frantic moments, she finally managed it, spilling out into the refreshing open air. She thought she heard a voice behind her, shouting, "Wait up!"

But she didn't.

As if chased by unseen demons, her legs propelled her faster than they ever had before. She narrowly avoided colliding with an elegantly dressed woman on the doorstep, offering a brief, breathless apology before sprinting away down the street, her heart pounding in her chest.

Back inside, Rocco peeked through the open door as it gently swung closed, his head tilting curiously from side to side. He then turned back to Nero with a quizzical chirp just as the boy triumphed over the hazmat suit, successfully freeing Ottilie. A long, heavy sigh escaped Nero's lips. There goes another one...

Noticing Nicole in the doorway, he did his best to put on a welcoming smile, hoping to avoid another runaway. "You here for the ad? C'mon in!.. Don't worry 'bout all that. She was just playin'." He laughed sheepishly before reaching up and absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck.

 
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(OG) Dante |North | Celeste's Apartment





It was clear he had made a mistake.

He was brushing this off on some level, because in his head it was justified for the overall means. But for her- it was still relatively news. Celeste had a lot of trust in him, and he'd violated that. Explanations didn't matter in the long run-- he sighed, squeezing her hand and pressing his cheek against it.

"There's nothing I can say that would take that hurt away except I only did it because I thought it was better than having to play a part in you getting physically hurt yourself. You've never seen me on the field before Celly" an old nickname from their days in high school. "There's a lot I try to do to stay in the lines, and sometimes I do things in the spur of the moment that feels like the right call, even if it makes me sick inside later."

"It's what I've had to do for years now, and I doubt it'll change anytime soon." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. Though it sounded anything but pleased, it sounded rather reserved.

"Don't worry though, you won't lose me. As long as you desire to stay in contact, I would never leave you- so long as I live." He reassured her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "I can at least reassure you of that."

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