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

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RYUTARO HASHIMOTO
CS Link
SCENE:
The Art of the Deal
LOCATION:
West District, Czar Restaurant
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Ryutaro
The Art of the Deal

"You know they have a fantastic menu here? Imported produce from all over the globe to make the finest dishes from across the Graadian continent." Ryu said, ignoring Hiachi's question entirely as he continued focusing on the menu. "Not just their food, but also the various smaller nations on it. Cuisine at its finest is when you incorporate aspects of dishes into others to elevate them on another level. Beyond what could simply be done with whatever is traditional."

He tapped the menu twice, towards something that the newcomer couldn't see. "Madaran Sea sturgeon caviar served atop butter-poached lobster with a a truffle infused mayonnaise, with lightly fried potato medallions and a fresh salad. Where in the world could one even find such a recipe in tradition?" he continued, before finally moving his gaze towards Hiachi as if to scope her reaction to being completely sidestepped. "It's why Chelim Starred Chefs are above and beyond the regular stock of any normal restaurant. And its why you can expect quality and worth from what you spend here."

It was obvious that the Tiger Queen was being coy about something, but as to what Hiachi could not say at the moment. "What about you? The menu is small, but concise. Don't worry about costs, I know you can't afford it." Ryu then said as he gently placed the menu over to his guest.


miki miki
 
KAZUE KANEKO
SCENE:
[Thawtless Dial]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3, December 24th, 2021
LOCATION:
Kazue’s Apartment, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charmy Devlin, Kazue Kaneko
THAWTLESS DIAL

Charmy was too drunk to operate a paperclip. It must have taken a Christmas miracle for her to work her phone without breaking it, or short circuiting it with wine. Kazue should have expected this. No, she had expected this. It was hope that told her this was an honest desire from an old…friend, to ignore the gangs that had defined her life as long as Kazue could remember.

Still, hanging up would be rude. So Kazue listened silently, like she always had. Charmy’s rambles could have been in another language, and the speaker on the other end of the line probably understood what she was saying no better than the listener did. Perhaps she was forgetting what she was saying while she was saying it.

“Uh. Hello. Charmy. Merry Christmas.” The thought was stuttered through, every word its own sentence, and the final statement was delivered with a rising tone, like Kazue was questioning the date.

It wasn’t Christmas, of course. Not in the West, and not in the East. Kazue could understand words and sometimes even a phrase if she really tried, but the idea was as clear as pond water. Maybe Charmy thought the districts of New Oasis had different time zones?

“It’s, uh, still a few hours away. Should be the same for you.” Another statement that sounded like a question. Charmy was most certainly not listening.

Her voice over the phone was becoming not only hard to parse but hard to even make out. The sound began to clip from the extreme proximity.

“…Yeah. I’ve been…busy—“

“I know it wasn’t—It wasn’t always good—wasn’t what you wanted.”

How was Kazue supposed to respond to that? She was left once again staring at her phone screen, the simple UI and buttons staring back at her. The end call button still glowed red, inviting her to put an end to this conversation and do something like play a game alone or watch basketball alone or go back to crying alone or—

What the hell. She could use the company. Kazue remained silent, waiting for Charmy to continue her ramblings.



 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Return To Sender
LOCATION:
Hotel Gaul, West District
DATE:
Post Arc 2 | Night
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park
Return To Sender

The silence was foreboding. The pattern had been broken: call, answer, call, answer, call, no answer. Something was awry.

Hiachi listened intently, trying to peek out of the bathroom. She couldn’t be sure that nothing had happened to Passeri. It was unlikely, and maybe she hadn’t heard her, and yet—the anxiety Hiachi had been feeling since the beginning of the night hadn’t wavered. Any breach in the pattern was an instant red flag.

And how right she was—because only two seconds later, Hiachi’s nerves were shot with the shock of a loud crash and an explosion of drywall dust. She slammed the door shut again, the noise drowning underneath the subsequent crash.

Hiachi had no idea what had happened. Something was there, and she didn’t know if they were being attacked or if something blew up or if Passeri had just taken a really bad fall. Between her adrenaline rush and panic attack, she forced herself to press an ear to the door and listen.

The only person talking was a man who was certainly not Passeri—it was the wavering overdosed voice of a man, who sounded nothing like her. Grating tone, overconfidence. He just complained about the quality of the penthouse, at first. She couldn’t have been sure that they had been found out.

Only two seconds later did she know for a fact that he had found Passeri. He was talking to what Hiachi could only assume was her, taunting her. There was nothing but silence in response. It wasn’t helping.

Hiachi lowered herself to the keyhole of the bathroom knob. Though her vision was restricted, she could clearly see through the hole that was available. She saw Passeri, on the other side of the hall, inching sideways. It was a mystery as to why, until her back was to a large art piece in a glass frame.

The reflection revealed the assailant. A man taller, stronger than both Passeri and Hiachi combined. He looked deranged. The pair inched down the hall, backs to each other. Could she tell what they were doing? No, but it was clear they were headed in her direction.

Passeri kept glancing at the door expectantly as she shuffled down the hall. It was a sure sign that she was expecting Hiachi to do something. But what, with what, and how?

This guy, from what she could deduct, was the source of the problem. He had something on Passeri. They were there to take his evidence. Those were her orders.

But he couldn’t have something on Passeri if he was dead; Dead men keep secrets.

Killing was cruel. But a crueler fate than killing was whatever consequence awaited her for a failure. If she couldn’t take him down, surely he would have both of them pay.

To finalize her decision, she shut her eyes and listened one more time. There was something in his tone. The jovial, cloying nature of it. Men like these embraced the suffering of others warmly, taking joy in the agonizing pain, no notion that it might one day be them on the asphalt.

She was sure of it now—the man had to die.

Now, the urgency of the situation was battling with the implications. They had broken in and entered. If she shot him, it would look bad for everyone. It would implicate them as murderers. And people would surely hear the gunshot. But if he died of something accidentally, it would be covered up quaintly. An drunken idiot is just a drunken idiot.

She scanned the room again. On the floor had been a bottle of tile polish, the spray kind. Perhaps someone had drunkenly brought it in there, mistaking it for some sort of cleaning solvent. But this would be the tool of the night. Stuff like this had chloroform in it. If she could knock him out, she could kill him. He would die.

Hiachi took one of the alcohol stained towels and doused it in the liquid. She turned the light in the bathroom off. She turned the knob in such a way that it made no sound, and she gently opened the door inwards. The best shot at catching off guard as she could.

She waited for his sharp exhale, ensuring that his next breath would be deep.

Hiachi took the drugged towel and wrung it around his mouth, tying it quickly. He was caught off guard, of course. Hiachi shut the door to protect herself from his diverted rage. She could hear him wrestle with it, but his drugged up mind couldn’t think to take it off. Eventually, naturally, he fell to the ground with a thud.

She opened the door, not pausing for a second. She grabbed one arm before remembering that she wasn’t strong enough to drag him on her own.

“Help me push him off the balcony.” Her pupils shook, her focus enhanced like it hadn’t been before.


 
HITOSHI YAMAKAWA
CS Link
SCENE:
Searching for the Light
TIME:
The Day After Get(ting) Help
LOCATION:
Tommy's (Abandoned) Scrapyard, Outskirts of South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie
SEARCHING FOR THE LIGHT
Hitoshi witnessed Charlie's now hand-based carnage on display with wide eyes, not entirely sure what to make of the situation now that it had escalated so much. The young man was doing more than just getting anger out of his system, there was something deeper within that make Hitoshi uncomfortable to see on display. "Charlie." the veteran said, dropping his bat and trying to get Charlie's attention. More car parts flew from the force of Charlie's violence as they landed haphazardly around the junkyard. It was clear that the rookie had not heard him, and so Hitoshi grimaced and started to approach.

"Charlie."
Hitoshi then said, more forcefully in an effort to make his presence known. A tire flew just past him and rolled with great speed until it crashed into another set of abandoned vehicles. He barely just caught a piston that flew straight towards his face, stumbling back as he got a sense of what had nearly struck him. Now Hitoshi was very worried as he increased his pace.

"Charlie!"
Hitoshi yelled, before realizing that a large chunk of a car was flying towards him. Instinctively, thanks to being sober, Hitoshi arched himself backwards until he was nearly horizontal and gritted his teeth. He could feel the weight of what had been tossed his way so carelessly pass over him before crashing with a loud thud nearby. Quite literally a close shave, Hitoshi lost his balance and fell ass first onto the ground below before scrambling back to his feet. Wordlessly he rushed over to the young man and as he turned his violence towards another vehicular chassis and grabbed him from behind.

"CALM DOWN!"


Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Hide & Seek
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
June 30th, 2022 | Daytime
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Keith
Hide & Seek

After jumping the brick wall, Hiachi dashed past the backyard obstacles and kept running. She moved, not on the central path, but fence over fence. She looked back, her nerves settling ever-so-slightly now that she couldn’t see him anymore.

Her short-lived ease was interrupted by a shadow moving over her back. She could see the shadow overtake her, so she looked up behind her.

Her breath got stuck in her throat.

This guy was scanning the neighborhood from above, clawing at roofs and walls to move around. Swinging around like it was nothing. His arms were long and tendril-esque, like someone had peeled back his skin and pulled his muscles and veins like taffy. This was nightmare fuel, for sure.

It became clear that her plan to outrun him was entirely futile. He would find her, and get to her in an instant with the power of his aerial view.

She couldn’t run, but she could hide. If he was looking from above, she just had to be under an object. That didn’t sound too hard. The hard part was finding a spot where she wouldn’t raise suspicion. Because as dangerous as one pursuer was, a dozen would be a signature on her confirmation of death.

Most of the places around her were out in the open, but there was an awning across the street. If she put her hood over her head and moved in the most inconspicuous manner she could, she might just buy herself another minute.

Hiachi flipped her hood over her head and walked across the street. Her movements were stilted and choppy—far from unsuspicious. But she made it across the street!

It had been—and still was—risky. There was always the chance he had in fact seen her. But for now, she was facing the glass wall of the shop in front of her, hiding her face from the outside world. She just needed one more minute to think it through.



 
TAKAONNA
SCENE:
Only Human
LOCATION:
Alleyway, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Takaonna, Jozef
Only Human
"Takaonna." The title was the only more complex word she could say with ease. Since Kason, people have called her by it so much that it was practically her name. But it wasn't he real one; she still remembered the word coming from her sisters. "Shinko..." she added. "Actually named Shinko."

She heard the fish wriggling in his hand. Her gift had been accepted. Takaonna raised a finger out at Jozef, which stretched and almost poked his nose. "You... are like Kiwi." A pause. "Friend."

Shinko smiled.

A lovely note to end off on, if Takaonna tilting her head back, hadn't made her bangs reveal her face. Her grin literally went ear-to-ear, tinted yellow with grime along her gums. Her eyes, wide open like full moons and tiny pupils permanently fixed to the middle, seemed to stare directly at Josef.

@WhiskeyMarten
 
TAKAONNA
SCENE:
The DEATH of Cinnabun??!?
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Takaonna, Celeste
The DEATH of Cinnabun??!?
There was rubble and debris scattered across the streets of the North district. Cars sat dented or totaled; innocent street signs were ripped out of the ground. The path of destruction contained itself to this one street, but it was enough of a deterrent for any passerby to turn the other way. Especially for the ones caught at the front.

In the middle of everything was the bull in the China shop: the Takaonna. The source of it all.

Takaonna yelled and cried. She swung her arms into the unfortunate buildings, leaving sizeable chunks of brick and wood missing. She wandered aimlessly, mowing through whatever stood in her way like a loose elephant.

Nobody dared to approach her, more or less find out what's wrong. Most people were justifiably frightened. Most people...

angel doe angel doe
 
Jesper Albrecht
SCENE:
The Ties that Bond Us
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
East District, Noodle Nirvana
PARTICIPANTS:
Jesper, Charlie
The Ties that Bond Us
Nothing was going the way Jesper thought it would. Not with Charlie refusing the invitation into the Dragons—and the added benefits. Not with him having been at the bridge on that day.

Jesper felt dizzy. He processed each of Charlie's words, all of them echoing in his mind in ten times the volume. He couldn't tell if his head was swaying, or if that was just his vision playing tricks on him. Jesper knew who that red-haired man was—he was responsible for everything going wrong. But Charlie spoke as if he was the victim.

But Jesper couldn't explain that to him. Not with the momentum his conversation had. In that moment, he recalled one of his father's lectures. It was another of Lars' lessons in what made "people like us" different from the rest. The common folk having trust in them was key for any big wig to thrive. And if that trust was ever at stake—you do whatever you can to save it.

"No! No, of course not!" Jesper replied, somehow paling more than he already was. "You really think I would do that?" He might as well have punched himself in the gut. "I was... watching. I was just saying what I saw." Jesper couldn't help his gaze flicking away. Omitting the truth was one thing; saying this to his friend's face was a whole other beast. He leaned his forehead on the sides of his palms, inadvertently shielding his eyes. It hurt to be accused of something like this—the only thing that hurt more was that it was true.

"Charlie..." he finally choked out. "We're still going to be friends. Right...?"

Every time he ventured outside, nothing good ever came of it. And people wondered why he never wants to leave the safety of his home.

Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
KYODEN
SCENE:
Ice Breakers
LOCATION:
New Oasis Police Department Floor 2 Break Room, Central District
TIME:
Post Arc 3 || June 25th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian, Chikage, Kyoden, Jean, Tatsuo, Yelena, Inigo, Eric
ICE BREAKERS

Once the captain gathered the room’s attention, Kyoden smoothly stepped up beside Chikage to time with his introduction. He offered the group of officers a friendly smile and a small wave, “nice to meet everyone.” The atmosphere was obviously different compared to stepping into a room of Serpents. It was a pleasant, yet weird surprise. He felt like he could relax his shoulders for once!

Kyoden glanced over at Eric as he welcomed him ‘back’ to the force. He offered the shorter man a slight nod before looking over to the pizza boxes. Would it be rude to not take a slice? He wasn’t particularly hungry considering he already ate earlier. Before he could make that decision though, another officer approached him. “Thank you?” Kyoden tilted his head questionably, his compliment oddly reminding him of Raphael. “Nice to meet you Sebastian — you can just call me Kyo.” He glanced back over to the pizza again and then offered a bashful smile, “ah, well I guess one slice wouldn’t hurt.” With a few long strides, he made his way over to the pizza and grabbed a slice for himself.
 
celestine renee cadieux
SCENE:
the DEATH of cinnabun??!?
LOCATION:
north district
TIME:
wouldn't u like to know, weather boy
PARTICIPANTS:
takaonna, celestine
the DEATH of cinnabun??!?
"What the..." Celestine had been out on her usual walk when she came across the destruction of one specific street. It was a mess, not something that could have been accidental, and she couldn't help but wonder what caused it. Everyone else seemed to do the smart thing and avoid the chaos, but if someone was hurt Celeste couldn't just walk away.

Making her way down the street and scanning the area, Celestine quickly found the source of the disaster- Her dear friend, Takaonna. Something must have happened to send her into such a frenzy.

"Taka?" She called out as she approached the flailing woman, "It is your friend, Celestine."

In truth, Celeste wasn't sure this was the best way to handle what seemed to be an already delicate situation, but she couldn't think of much else, "Taka, are you alright? What has made you so upset?" Celestine questioned the closer she got to the much taller woman, ducking her head to avoid a stray limb as it crashed into the brick of a nearby building.

AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
JACK & SAMIRA
SCENE:
Backroom Dealings
LOCATION:
West District, Sarizara Restaurant
PARTICIPANTS:
Ryutaro, Passeri, Camila, Elias, Welsha, Dagger, Alice
BACKROOM DEALINGS

Despite the clear solution that was laid out to solve the indebted rookie crisis, it would seem Camila had her gripes over it. Samira would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised at this response, given she had presented an opportunity for the ambitious veteran to basically take the reins of the entire project. It was unfortunate, really, but the disappointed expression on her face didn’t linger long. Instead, she continued to listen to the girl while pouring a cup of sake for herself. With varying opinions like this, it was going to be a long meeting. Samira’s own thoughts on the discussion would remain to herself, and probably be revealed later to Jack behind closed doors. She considered chiming in on the ‘charity’ part of the solution but Ms. Gaspari seemed to enjoy the limited pedestal she was given as she shifted the topic to trust.

To the cowboy, it all sounded like hot air. ‘Sure, rookies aren’t just pawns. They can be knights or bishops if you want ‘em t’ be, but they’re all still pieces to be played at the end of the day.’ He thought to himself, throwing back another drink. “This stuff ain’t half bad.” He muttered under his breath, eyeing the bottle.

Most of her words were drowned out by the cup of sake she brought to her lips. Samira hummed quietly to herself, glancing up at the ceiling lights as she made mental notes of more ideas for her company’s new sake line. Her attention then refocused back to Camila when she mentioned the King himself, claiming she didn’t trust his state of mind. She carefully swished the contents of her cup in thought, recalling a few rumors she heard here and there.

A loud thud and clattering of utensils forced Samira to jump slightly in surprise, interrupting her train of thought. She glanced over to the Tiger who accompanied Ms. Park, one painfully underdressed for such an event. Samira frowned visibly at the blatant disrespect this woman was showing towards their Queen. An eyesore and an impatient one at that, Jack was just glad he wasn’t the only one with a rumbling gut. Samira let out an inaudible sigh as Ryutaro fulfilled the whiner’s request for food, the room quickly filling with servers as they brought in a fine display of food. Her eyes focused immediately on the udon noodles but before she could allow herself to dig in, it was Alice’s turn on the soapbox.

The difference between Alice and the rest of the Tigers who voiced their opinions was that she at least was emotionally driven. The young lady was rightfully upset and Samira couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt seeing as she was ignorant to Alice’s situation. While it did not contribute to the problems that Elias and Passeri brought up, it did reinforce the idea that Markus was no longer suited to be King, and Ryutaro was quick to follow up on that by revealing his agenda. Remove Markus. Restructure how the Tigers operate. Take control of Central.

As his Ace, Samira was already behind Ryutaro’s agenda in full support but as expected, there were concerns about his goals. Ms. Park was the first to voice them. While Ryutaro addressed her concerns, Samira delicately picked up her chopsticks and began to eat, savoring the expertly prepared wagyu beef along with the udon noodles. She glanced over to Jack, smiling gently as she was curious to see how he was enjoying his meal.

Slurping up a noodle and then downing it with another shot of sake, Jack gave her a wink and whispered, “I didn’t think that we’d be spillin’ so much tea over dinner, t’ be honest with ya’.” He could feel the heat of the alcohol starting to rise in his cheeks, along with his enjoyment of the entertainment brought about by the rest of the Tigers.

After their Queen elaborated further on his plans, Samira set down her chopsticks and cleared her throat. “Should anyone else have similar concerns to that of Ms. Park, do not forget that Markus came into power by removing the former King, Roland, in a similar fashion. As you know,” she glanced over to Passeri, “it wasn’t just Roland.”

“And yet, the Tigers reconstructed new pillars and the Board hardly batted an eye.”

 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Art of the Deal
LOCATION:
West District, Czar Restaurant
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Ryutaro
Art of the Deal
Hiachi didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, and she suspected he was aware of that as well. It was a ploy to distract her. She felt bitter that her question had been so blatantly ignored, but she was in no spot to stomp on the eggshells. If this was the game she had to play, so be it.

He placed the menu in front of her. The man offered to pay in the most patronizing way possible. As Hiachi breathed in, she had to think about how long she would need to pretend to be okay with this. But that wasn’t the main concern—now, her greatest concern was getting food. Because he was right, she can’t afford any of it. She scanned from line to line in quick succession. Unrecognizable foods, with unrecognizable ingredients.

The conclusion was Hiachi did not like any of the options on the menu. She would live and die a picky eater, and had no shame in it. Even then, who wasn’t convinced that luxe food such as this was a prank? Who in their right mind would list random ingredients and expect people to take the dish more seriously?

The only thing that she could consider was the description of what seemed to be a dumpling, yet wasn’t. Her mouth pressed wide as she mentally struggled to break down the word. Pier. Like pear. Ogi. Like… ogi.

These ones had beef instead of pork, and were likely spicy instead of sweet. But everything else sounded worse, so Hiachi would take what she could get. At least it sounded semi-familiar.

“The… This one,” She said, pointing at the Pierogi’s description, not even attempting to pronounce it. Hiachi placed the menu down in front of her before fidgeting with her hands below the table.

She went silent after that. Since her first attempt at conversation had failed so miserably, why would she give it another attempt?


 
Hiyma
SCENE:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth
LOCATION:
South District: The Roost
PARTICIPANTS:
Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

Hiyma tapped her foot impatiently as people began to back up her claim of needing proof, Hiymas eyes turned to each and everyone here as they spoke before landing on Elenore who was pretty much silent. Elenore was on Hiymas watch list but she figured that she just mostly had poor social skills, as Pie began to grow annoyed he began to yell out and pulled out a gun to start shooting in the air. Which only served to further annoy Hiyma, she noted that if Helva was here Pei would of probably been punched in the face or shot himself for doing his typical shenanigans at a Phoenix graveyard. Nevertheless, Hiymas eyes remained cold and unmoving as she watched Pei grow more annoyed with each second as the guy began to talk even going on to throw insults. When Pei claimed that the traitor was one of the people in the room she raised an eyebrow as she looked around the people in the room, she was suspicious of a few people there but she didn't really have any solid proof that any of them were traitors yet. It wasn't until he started accusing Red that she rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Oh you Narscisstic little - are you freaking for real? Ugh, you're still wasting our dam time with your theatrics, stop playing around." She spoke in a really annoyed voice, Hiyma had already ran the numbers on Red being a potential traitor and the odds of Red being a traitor were really low.

"I'm more inclined to believe that you are trying to sow distrust or take suspicion off yourself than believe Red is a traitor." Since Pei wanted to play games she figured that she would too. He already got on her nerves by wasting her time, Helva didn't even bother to show up because she figured he was going to waste her time and it seemed she was right. She was a bit peeved overall with Pei as she had a list of things to do, people to pay, information to buy, people to spy on personally, hardware to hack profiles to make and update the list could go on. But instead, she was stuck listening to Pei make accusations against Red whom she trusted way more than Pei, as she lacked any real motive to turn a traitor, though there was that one possibility that could complicate things, though that wouldn't have really been considered treason more so an accident than anything else. Still, though the possibility of that happening made Hiyma rub her forehead in annoyance considering all the complications that would bring.
 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 10th, 2022
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Bushineko
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
The fuzzy little thing mewed happily within her shadow, bristling with all of the merry energy that she expected of her most enthusiastic fans. Strange, bizarre little mascot-thing or not, it was clear to her that what stood in front of her was, truly, as big of a fan as he claimed, especially in the light of the swell of energy she felt pour into her chest.

It was a good thing that she did not know why that gout was quite as potent as it was.

"I'm super glad!" She smiled down at the cat, wondering if it was impolite of her to chat while looming over him like this. Surely this store had a booster seat, or stool, or anything else that the feline could have perched upon, right?

"Could you give me a second?" She withdrew from the cat, and flagged the handler the store had assigned her over. A tired-looking college student was soon by her side, their eyes glimmering with eagerness, even through the study-inflicted haze of sleep deprivation. This woman was famous, after all. If she played her cards right, then she might've been able to slip into her social circle. She would've even been happy with a shout-out on Bluebird, or any other social media.

"Would you mind pinching a stool or something for our friend here to sit on? It doesn't feel right just having him stuck down there, don't you think?" She smiled at the employee, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then they were off, struggling through the crowd in pursuit of their perchable prize.

"If you don't mind, could you wait on the side for a bit?" Passeri waved Bushineko over to the left of her booth. "We can do things properly once she gets back, I'm sure it'll only take a second!"

Amongst the sea of corpses, the store clerk's was the first.

Without warning, it erupted above the crowd, propped up in the air by a concrete stalagmite. The crowd, and Passeri too, froze. It took her a moment to register what she was looking at. A morbid blood pinata, suspended amongst the canned goods section like some sort of twisted promotional display. And then there was another. And another. And another.

More than she could stomach to count.

Shadows of corpses. Shadows of people, shaded the grocery store. Shock held Passeri in place, her vision fixed on the dead, mutilated things that had been bright and happy customers only moments before. A box of cereal, pinned to one body like a tail on a donkey. A hint of pink and purple, peeking out through the thick, red splatters of blood. A face she recalled, just barely, through the fog of her inattention.

She was the reason these people had been here. A shepherd who had led them into the foul jaws of coincidence. She was the reason why they were dead.

"WHAT." Passeri's voice came out hoarse and trembling. A dry anger bit at her throat, kindling only a spark away from going up into a furious blaze. "DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FUCKING DOING?"

Her Potential lanced through the air before she could think, advancing on the masked stranger as great spines of rough-hewn energy. They were not the pretty baubles with which she garnished her shows, nor the efficiently defined geometries that she would usually employ for combat. A rain of twisted lances surrounded the man, barely coagulated masses of energy, defined only by her burgeoning bloodlust. Fangs of pure Id.

"Get out of here." Passeri's table flew wide, scattered to the wind as another of her constructs ripped through the air, and she stepped past the furry curiosity that had so tightly held her attention a moment ago. If it hadn't been there that day, no, if she'd been paying more attention, then could she have stopped this? Could she have put and end to this tragedy before it ever occurred?

She did not know. She would never find out.

"I'm going to give you one chance." Passeri's words felt bitter in her mouth. Wrong. Even shaking with hate, her constructs had stopped just short of their target. They hung in the air, trained on every vital point that Passeri could remember. That, too, felt wrong.

"On the ground. Go with the police when they arrive. That's the only way you're leaving here alive." Blood leaked from the corpses above. This was more than he deserved. She should've skewered him, skewered him and butchered him into meat. He didn't deserve the dignity of a corpse. They didn't deserve the indignity of sharing a tomb with this thing.

"You fucking animal." She hoped that he would say no. That he laughed in her face, and told her to fuck off. So that she could murder him. For what might've been the first time, Passeri was staring into the eyes of somebody who she wanted to kill.

 
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Babarutthoth
SCENE:
SceneI am (not) your Grandpa!
LOCATION:
Calrissian HQ, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Babarutthoth, Samira
I am (not) your Grandpa!
The man currently-known-as Babarutthoth stared at the entrance to Calrissian HQ with a listless expression. The cacophonous humming of the city street behind him washed over his mind like a wave, his thoughts drowning in white noise as his focus swam indecisively between notions of freedom and choice. Some small part of him was considering turning away, stepping away from the door and choosing to enjoy the freedom to go anywhere he could see.

“Can I help you sir?” The doorman spoke to him and snapped him out of his zone. The attendant’s expression said he hoped this interaction wouldn’t be a hassle. Babar considered how he looked, disheveled and slightly dirty. He could easily be mistaken for a homeless man! Oh wait. He was homeless. “My apologies, I was simply gathering my thoughts. If you wouldn’t mind?” Babar gestured to the door so the attendant may grant him entry.

“May I ask what your business is here?” The man adopted a stern but intentionally inoffensive expression and made a small step in front of the door. Babarutthoth was immediately taken aback by this, for all of his thinking about how this might go he hadn’t considered he might not even be let into the lobby. “Oh uhh, I’m here to see my-” Babar couldn't help but grin as the words left his mouth. “Granddaughter. I am Babarutthoth Calrissian. I intend to speak with Samira.” The man still didn’t seem keen to allow him access. Sceptically he asked “You’re her grandfather?” as his eyes once again flitted over Babar. Babarutthoth was unclean, and also quite young.

Being quick to assume authority of the interaction Babar snapped back, his voice heavy with vitriol. “You’d be wise to consider that stranger things have happened, while I respect that you’re just doing your job do not overestimate the bounds of your position. I have been gone a long time, my name is on the building, I am coming in to see my granddaughter.” Babar had no idea if his namesake had Samira’s last name, it just felt like something extra to say. Circumventing the attendant, who stood there as if he had just been slapped in the face, Babar opened the door himself and strode in before the man could protest. That’s right, he reminded himself, the information he’d gathered in the last 23 years made him undeniable. He would not hesitate any longer.

Stepping up to the lobby counter he spoke to the receptionist. “A fine day to you. I am here to speak to Samira. Tell her ‘Baba is here.’ She’ll know who I am.” Babarutthoth wasn’t asking, for he felt his namesake wouldn’t ask. He waited there, expectantly looking at the receptionist.
 
Karne (NPC)
CS Link
SCENE:
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store
TIME:
June 10th, 2022 | | Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Bushineko (NPC), Passeri ( The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit )
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

She was the reason the lambs had come to the slaughter. An additional collateral that would line the slaughterhouse conveyor.

Passeri’s enraged shouts did nothing but cause the man to smirk underneath his mask. There it was; it warmed his body like a drug passed through a syringe. But as quickly as he felt that fire begin to ignite, she snuffed it out.

He hated it, the edging on the brink of utter bloodshed. He wanted to see her try her best only to fail. Where had that passion of blood gone?

Sparkles of color appeared in his vision, the flashy potential reflecting off the goggles of his gas mask as the whizzing of sharpened edges through the air hit his ears. His body didn’t bother to tense, even as the projectiles darted towards them. They lacked the serrated edges of any genuine bloodlust.

Anger was back on the front of his mind, a disgust churning his throat. She rattled off warnings and half-hearted threats. He saw through them. He looked past the sharpened edges directed at him to peer right into the face of a woman who was desperately keeping a mask on her face.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Passeri Park,” Was all he said before he raised a clawed hand in front of his face. At his own will, the ground around him shifted and torn asunder, forced out of the way to allow gray concrete to rise in formations of blocks. Before the jagged edges could even try to pierce through his flesh, they’d find themselves dismantled by whips of stone, swiping them out of the way like annoying little mosquitoes. The concrete lashes only went on to slam into the nearby shelves, sending crumbles of cereal through the air as boxes were crushed open, the whole aisle tipping over and crashing into the next as the sound of clattering glass and metal echoed.

“Even now, you try to act like you’re better than what you actually are!” The man shouted in rage, his knees bending slightly before a pillar of stone rose under his feet, sending him flying through the aisle to meet the idol head-on.

“You talk like you’re against killing and have no choice, but I can see through that pretty visage you wear and see your ugly self!” He talked as if he knew the woman deeper than she could ever comprehend, hatred fueling his assumptions, contempt bringing upon an understanding of what made him feel so sick looking at her.

His hand reeled back, and from underneath his sleeves, more concrete slid across his flesh like tiny gray bugs, only to convene on his hand and grow and build until they solidified in fearsome claws, their jagged and tipped edges made to sundered flesh.

“You want to kill everything in your way just the same! You want to use your powers to bask in blood!”

His clawed hand came downwards, the sharpened edges cutting through the air to slam through the plastic table that was in his way from reaching his target, shattering it into pieces before shoving it out of the way past his legs, claws sparking as they scraped across the ground as the momentum continued to push him forward, his hand reeling back in preparation to slice right through Passeri.

“You’re a gang member! Yourself is the only thing that matters! Don’t act like a fucking hero, YOU BITCH!”

Rending a claw through the atmosphere, coming forward like the thrust of a spear, every nail prepared to slice flesh. But he saw no blood and felt no screams. All he heard was the sounds of stone scratching against metal.

Wait, metal!?

His eyes widened, looking downward to see his hand twitching, the resistance of forces against each other causing his muscles to twitch; something had stopped him from reaching his target, something he couldn’t see til he tilted his head slightly.


“What the fuck…?”


“Nggghhhh!!”


A gleaming blade of folded steel braced against the cement hands, the metal clattering as his tiny paws strained against the grip of his sword. Sharp teeth gritted as narrowed eyes looked at his opponent, a fire igniting in his pupils.

“I won’t forgive you…”

His claws dug into the ground, a snarl leaving his fuzzy lips as he gained traction, the balance shifting in his favor.

“FOR TRYING TO HURT IROI-SAMAAAA-ZARUYAAANNN!”

With a triumphant shout, his sword broke free of the stalemate, thrusting forward and sending Karne flying backward, his boots scraping against the ground, particles flying into the air as he stopped.

The cement fell from his hands, clattering to the ground as he flexed his fingers, looking upon the tiny creature that had gotten in his way, a click of his teeth barely audible past his mask.

The tiny cat pointed his sword towards the serpent, his tails swishing violently, “So long as I breathe, I won’t let you touch her!” He proclaimed, tiny but bold.

Passeri had gained an unexpected ally.

Karne spread out his arms, directing his palms toward the ground.

“Con Men.”

With a simple command from around him, rubble began to build and take shape, legs formed into a torso, and those torsos sprouted arms, faceless heads of gray matter rested upon chiseled shoulders.

Three mannequins made of concrete stood around and surrounded Karne. Their misshapen bodies stood like puppets with loose strings, ready to be pulled.

Things were really about to get started now.


 
Johann Richter
SCENE:
Money is Not the Only Prize
TIME:
Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Tiger's Den, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Johann
Money is Not the Only Prize
Tiger HQ, probably one of Johann's least favorite locations. He wouldn't have been there if it hadn't been for some business that Vissa wanted him to conduct in his place. The only reason he did it was because Vissa had personally asked him. If anybody else had made the request, he would have told them to fuck off. Luckily, that meeting was over now. Nothing had really come of it, just more possible business deals in the future. None of it really concerned him, the only thing he was tasked to do was be there. While he was here he might as well get a drink before he headed back out to Vissa's Estate.

His eyes scanned the room, looking for a place to sit. There was a bar in the lounge area, hopefully it could fulfil his needs. After a short walk over, Johann had seated himself at the bar, tapping the counter lightly to get the attention of the bartender. Once the bartender approached, the dirty blonde had a simple order. "A gin and tonic, two of them." His gaze didn't wander far, his focus taken up by his upcoming drink. Even though he was in the organization, he didn't have much of a desire to interact with anybody within it.

His gaze lingered on his drinks as they were placed in front of him, grabbing one and chugging down the contents. He lightly slammed it on the counter, reaching for the other one. He was going to take his time with this one, he just wanted to get the other one out of the way before the ice melted. Johann's head was empty at the moment. The only thing he could think about was the drink in front of him. Well... that and striking someone in the face. That could improve his mood.

After taking a sip from his drink, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He took a glance at it and immediately ignored the call, recognizing it as a scam caller. He was hoping Vissa would call him, but it seemed he was too busy which was usually the case. "What a shame." He would have to speak to him later. Luckily, he didn't have anything important to say.
 
Kazue Kaneko
SCENE:
Helping Hand
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Kazue
Ripples of Stardust

“Alert: suspected opposing gang member causing problems in Dragon territory. Suspect appears female, short, has long blue hair, and was injured during their escape. If seen, alert Guardian and allow it to handle the situation…”

Winter, New Oasis, early morning. A special variety of pain. Though people were leaving their homes and getting on with their day, it was only thanks to the power of capitalism forcing their hand. If given the chance, ninety-nine out of ten would choose to stay indoors.

Though Kazue had a different reason for going outside, she was still subjected to the outdoors all the same. After putting on two hoodies and a pair of gloves, both hoods over her baseball cap in case of winter winds, she braced herself for the cold and stepped out of her somewhat cleaned flat. There was an office to go slack off in, some highlights to rewatch, and maybe some people to treat. Plus, heating and insulation. The promise of heaven awaiting, Kazue set off.

The morning was always a blur, muscle memory working through the same routine. She got her bike, trying to work the lock with gloves still on lest her hands freeze to it like a tongue to a pole. She made a note to herself to pick up something new for breakfast, since it was her turn. She finished getting ready and pedaled off.

Biking was also muscle memory, not just pedaling but steering the same path that she had a thousand times before. It was nice to keep her brain shut off and just ride. Maybe take her eyes off the road for a bit and look around at the classical buildings, dusted with the finest layer of leftover snow, or the occasional unused surface turned canvas for a beautiful mural, or the suspiciously familiar face peeking out of an empty alleyway, like a wounded animal desperate to hide from a predator.

Wait, what was that last one?

Kazue came to a stop in the middle of the otherwise empty bike lane. Was she seeing things? Maybe staying up late to catch the Gladiators game was making her hallucinate. She knew that face, and it couldn’t have been that face, and it absolutely was that face. The biker got off her ride and went to investigate.

Sure enough, somehow, some way, it was that guy. And he was hurt, arm especially so. Kazue pulled out her phone to send in a message to her assistant saying that she might be a bit late. It was only then that Kazue found the alert. She froze.

At least it explained what he was doing here. Charlie was a wanted man, and aiding him would put Kazue in hot water. The safe choice would be to turn him in. The normal choice would be to turn him in. And yet.

She turned away from Charlie, looking out for any cameras or drones that could catch her assisting an enemy. All clear.

Everyone else with sense was in one of the few cars out on the street. No one would overhear them if they spoke normally. Still, the healer was compelled to whisper by the disloyal nature of what she had in mind. “Ok. I’m not going to turn you in. I’m going to heal you, and I’m going to get you out of here. Where and how do you hurt?”

 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
The Idol Fanclub Trials
TIME:
Pre-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Highreach, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Takakazu
The Idol Fanclub Trials
Passeri had to admit, Scruffy certainly knew how to put on a show. If not for his brazen crassness, she might've offered him a spot on some variety show or another. While she was sure that he was totally serious in all of that bullheadedness he was putting out, the audience certainly didn't need to know that. All the producers would've needed to do was slap on a few laugh tracks, and they'd have a golden boy of slapstick comedy.

Though, given that determination of his, she had a feeling that he'd turn any joke he didn't understand into an episode-long debate. Like one of those sad little commenters she'd see underneath her music videos. That, and she was pretty sure that the moment anybody laughed at him, he'd punch them in the face.

"Congrats, Scruffy! I didn't expect you to get so motivated. Maybe you are a fan after all!" Once the last of Passeri's impromptu crowd had withered away, she'd let her construct go with them. The nice thing about the props that she so often generated with her Potential was that once she was done with them, all she needed to do was snap her fingers, and away they went.

"Proud of you! People can get pretty crazy when they're all riled up for a release like that." Part of her wondered if the store had done it on purpose. It wasn't too uncommon a tactic to drive up an item's perceived value through scarcity. "Now, you don't really need that thing, right? Mind if I pinch it?"

She plucked it out of his hands without waiting for an answer. Entirely on her own, she'd already decided that this was how he'd be paying her for the spot of help she'd just given him. Nothing was free, here in New Oasis's most illustrious district. Her pen was soon back in her hands, and scrawling her signature, large and swirling onto the box. She turned it over a few times in her hands, inspecting the packaging to make sure she'd done a proper job of vandalizing it, before tucking it under her arm.

"I'll have this returned to the store later. Good way to apologize for the trouble, don't you think? They should be able to sell it off for a pretty good profit." And, she noted to herself, it'd make for great publicity. While supply and demand was typically her distributor's burden to bear, nothing was stopping her from capitalizing on one of their mistakes, presuming it was a mistake at all.

"And with that taken care of, let's proceed! We're burning daylight, here!" The figurine rattled in its box as she strolled over to the Captain and his band of merry men. "What's next on the docket? This one was pretty clever, but I don't think there's any more walls of rabid collectors you can throw him against. Or do you have, like, a secret gauntlet full of them that you're ready to throw him into?"

 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
Backroom Dealings
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, June 21st 2022
LOCATION:
West District, Sarizara Restaurant
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Ryutaro, Samira, Jack, Elias, Alice, Welsha, Dagger, Passeri
Backroom Dealings
The annoying grunt continued to be further annoying by slamming her filthy boots on the table, certainly, the evening would've been both more peaceful AND more productive without her precense, but she supposed there was no other way to deal with it than to shut up and stand it, they were here against Markus, more further in-fighting would only be for the worse. Alice spoke, framing her situation in a way that made Camila want to burst out laughing. The poor pampered princess was now a victim! And needed to wipe her tears with gold-trimmed tissues and take a nap while everyone around her worked for her comfort. What a sick joke. But well, one could supposed that a diamond cage is still a cage, framed in suuch a way, the veteran did feel the slightest hint of...Empathy, perhaps.

Then, the food finally arrived. Every dish looked and smelled fantastic, a faint smile on Camila's face rose as a single thought entered her mind. Heh, he's so fucking extra. But her sly thoughts came to an end, as a massive revelation was followed shortly after. The girl nearly choking on the piece of lobster she had just put in her mouth, her eyes went wide in disbelief. Going legit, what the fuck is he on about?!

The Idol was the first to speak up, raising some valid concerns about Ryutaro's aggressive upheaval of the entire organization. She couldn't help but agree, as she also particularly found herself vehemently against gambles, also known as the fine line that separated the brave from the reckless. Not only was the move insanely risky, but it could also lead to a major limitation with their underground deals. Camila herself was an avid visitor of the black market, and neither its denizens nor the law would be happy about further transactions, she wanted to voice her own concerns, however...

The Queen doubled downed on his decision, it was clear that he had made up his mind about this move for a while now, Camila now understanding the purpose of this dinner. Ryutaro didn't gather them here to know of their concerns and act upon them, he was on a scouting operation, looking for people willing to support his madman's errand, and easily finding himself with allies such as Samira, who compared this coup to the one Markus himself performed to overthrow the former king, Roland.

Camila breathed in deeply, she had a lot to say, but most of it would lead nowhere, just weightless statements that everyone knew, and pointing them out would barely count above a formality.
"So, to completely centralize the gang, going totally against of the 'every tiger on their own" mentality we've had thus far, I have to admit it's worth commending such a vision" She took another small bite of lobster, and quickly swallowed, barely able to enjoy its flavor. "And what did you have in mind for Weiss, then? No use sugarcoating our intentions at this point"

Camila now knew the kind of man Ryutaro was. He could make it look as nice as he wanted, but that little to hide the power-hungry control freak he was. However, he has both the resources and the influence to turn it into something more than just a pipe dream. Despite her reservations, the veteran found herself between a rock and a hard place, and so went for all other Tigers, and if she HAD to pick a side, then the choice was simple.


 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Lady Madonna
LOCATION:
June 24th, 2022 | Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Our ✰ Dream Soup Kitchen, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Passeri
Lady Madonna
Eric's swirling of the pot stopped abruptly, his eardrums attacked by an unexpected shift in tone of his company's voice, his eyes, large as plates, stared directly into the woman's, listening to her deadly, monotone explanation. Could it be that, perhaps, she was also doing some joking of her own? Matching his iconic style of delivery and endearing gaslighting? Her actual words seemed fairly satirical, but her face and tone seemed utterly serious. And there she remained, seemingly awaiting for his answer.

"Uhm" It had to be just a joke, correct? There was no way she wasn't joking, but still, perhaps, and just even maybe...

And then she laughed, shattering her emotionless facade into a million pieces. Eric was barely able to produce a sound in response, while his face was able to propely veil his emotions as it always did, in truth, he was stunned, perplexed by her little performance just now. "Well, blueberries could be good" his face muscles relaxed once again. "If you don't mind the people eating something that looks poisonously purple, that is" He listened to her further, his eyes focusing on the corner of the kitchen in thought "You really caught me offguard, I'll give you that" He nodded at her mention of a Soup Kitchen scam. "Certainly sounds vicious, straight out of the Albino Tigers, even" For a split moment, he had entirely forgotten that he was, quite literally, in the last stretch of an investigation to link Passeri with said gang, still, he decided to not linger on it, as bringing up the topic of gangs wasn't all that rare in the happy mayhem city of New Oasis.

She took her time walking around the kitchen, with the detective continuing to work his way with the pot, yet still keeping an eye on her. If her comment on blueberries on soup was anything to go by, it might be for the best to make sure she wasn't taking any 'creative liberties' with the food. "Mhm, good idea, take whichever type you want, though I would suggest capellinis"

Once again, it seemed like his little charity day off was going to be a little bit more fun than anticipated. His mind then drifted away to more regular thoughts, such as wondering what were those furry little devils doing in his absence, or if Satinserenade would ever come out.



The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Hide & Seek
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Daytime, June 30th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Keith
Hide & Seek
With buildings as his partner, Keith continued with his airborne dance, cruising above citizens and stores alike. He clicked his tongue, finding himself now deeper into one of the more urban areas of the district. That little fleeing rat was a particularly elusive one, the dragon had to give her that, although not exactly in a nice way, should he manage to catch up with her. He landed atop of a nearby building, once again turning to his iconic squatting position, his freakish arms now draping alongside the walls for the building like halloween props. His eyes darted from side to side, attempting to catch a glimpse of the girl, however, nothing turned up. She simply wasn't around the main street, and no one in his general field of view was running away.

Perhaps she decided to instead blend in with the public? It would indeed fit her extremely plain fashion, after all. Keith's arms retracted to their regular size, making sure to pull down his sleeves as best as possible, no time to bother with gloves right now.

He leapt down from the building, managing to not make much of a commotion by minimizing the sound he made. Now on ground level, he explored the vicinity. Maybe if he asked around, he could get some answers. Too bad that talking to strangers was a task scarier than facing a squad of enemy gangsters alone, but for the Dragons, he was willing to do it.

He approached a few people alongside the main street, none of them yielding any information about the girl-potentially-disgusting-serpent. After around a minute or so, he decided to enter a particular store with glass walls, oblivious of the people in his vicinity. "Excuse me" he asked to the store clerk, his expression clear and composed, hiding his hunting impulses. "I'm looking for this girl, have you seen her?" He said, showing the original photo of the girl, making his best to make his fingers pinching it the least noticeable he could.


miki miki
 
Gideon Gray
SCENE:
Loose Exhibition
LOCATION:
Premier Motors, South District
TIME:
April 1st, 2022 | Post Arc 2
PARTICIPANTS:
Gideon, Zulin
Loose Exhibition
For a brief moment, Gideon took a look at Zulin's expression, wondering if there was anything he could glean about the troublemaker's antics. But he couldn't find even a hint. In the next moment, Gideon had to turn his attention back on the road, lest he wanted to cause an accident. Gideon shook his head, "Well, as long as it is not pelting me black and blue, I'm down for this surprise."

If he remembered correctly, the mall required a right turn at the intersection. As he waited for his turn to go, he pondered on Zulin's words. It sounded like Helva had quite a group of friends despite the ruthless violence. Somehow Gideon found that kind of weird. She was like a cold-blooded killer, but Gideon was the only one who was scared to be next to her? Maybe Gideon was just weird. But to stop communication as soon as one found a better friend? Weren't relationships built on communication?

Eh. Nevermind. Gideon didn't have the right, nor the nerve, to challenge Helva's way of doing things.

The rest of the drive went by smoothly, with only bits of small talk to break through the silence of the drive. In a solid ten minutes, Gideon had made it through the New Oasis traffic to a shopping square. Sandwiched between the organic grocers and a burger joint was the paintball and airsoft store, the windows proudly proclaiming that fact with their decor.

"Oh hey it's a Burger Knight. I haven't been there since they fed me a fermented apple," Gideon noted. He hadn't actually been to the mall, only seen it passing by, and had no idea that the burger joint was actually there, "Let's split, you get your paintballs, and I'll go grab some fries. Do you want me to get you anything?"


Peckinou Peckinou
 
SEBASTIAN SE
SCENE:
Stymied
LOCATION:
West District
TIME:
January 2020 | Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian, Vissarion
STYMIED
Sebastian's smile turned into a smirk as he realized that what was Vissarion's teasing had become his teasing. Vissarion turned a shade redder, which Sebastian knew was not from the alcohol. So the guy knew how to be flustered too. How adorable.

What made Sebastian pause momentarily was Vissarion's mention of once feeling out of place. In all honesty, Sebastian often forgot that Vissarion wasn't made from old money. The unassuming way that Vissarion was dressed was more reminiscent of those who came from a family with money. But no, Vissarion had risen from the bottom to the top, and it was a story as old as time where new money struggled to fit in with aristocratic society. For a moment, Sebastian realized that he did not envy Vissarion's money.

"Well, let's get started," Sebastian said, rising from his seat, a wicked smile on his face. He gave Vissarion a pat on the back, "We've got this."

It was time to hunt. Granted, it was in a completely different environment than one that Sebastian was used to, but it was hunting nonetheless. Sebastian followed Vissarion a step behind. In his mind's eye, he envisioned himself sort of as Vissarion's henchman.

The meeting room was as ornate as the rest of the casino. The rectangular conference table, which the two sets of duo only took up a fraction of, was made of genuine wood. It was a step up from the put-together amalgam of plastic foldable tables that Sebastian was used to at the police academy. Glass goblets were even provided, filled with water. The seats were comfortable but invigorating.

"Bl-blackmail? I'm not sure where you got that impression from, Mr. Argyris," one of the businesspeople said. He was dressed smartly in a two piece suit with his light brown hair smoothed back. His smooth shaven chin was riddled with scars from shaving incidents. Visibly surprised, he moved to rearrange some of his papers before saying, "We just want to evaluate our current working relationship. Our profits in the past quarter were not as high as expected in the current market, and we just wanted to discuss an equitable way to proceed forward considering your company's relative success."

"Are you trying to weasel your way into justifying blackmail?" Sebastian asked quietly. If Vissarion was going to go blazing in, then Sebastian decided he would follow his approach. "Cause I will warn you, there is only one way this is going to end and two methods of getting there. One is messier than the other. And neither leads to your plot working. So it will just be easier if you just give it up."

Sebastian gave the businessman a warm smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"No no I assure you this is not a blackmail operation," the businessman said, "I apologize if you were given that impression. We just think that it will benefit our working relation better if a yearly cut of the money you've profited was to be added to our deal, to make sure it is equitable, especially considering the sensitive nature of our work."

Sebastian shook his head, almost imperceptively. It seemed that the businessman was going to bluff to the very end. The prosecutor raised his goblet of water, downing any residual taste of alcohol with it. Meanwhile, with his free hand, he gave Vissarion a thumbs up from underneath the table. For a moment, the warm smile had a genuine tint. At this point, the particular ins and outs of business had gotten beyond Sebastian, and he didn't want to ruin any of the man's hard work by saying something wrong.

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

MEET AND GRIT
"Creep?!" Peyton exclaimed. He was downright enjoying himself, although he knew that Keith could do better, "Is that all you can think of? You can call me worse! You already think I'm bad, so just tell me what you think of me!"

He was also curious about what Keith thought of him. It was unusual for his opinion to completely go a 180 just because Peyton was a Serpent. After all, Serpents weren't inherently bad people. They were just a bunch of guys, gals, and enby pals who knew how to have fun. There was some other reason fueling Keith's primal hatred of Serpents. And so Peyton wasn't going to 'mind his own business,' not only for the sake of getting some yummy humiliation but also to satiate his curiosity.

"I've been called pathetic, a worthless pipsqueak, a cretin, and so much more awful stuff! You're gonna have to be real genuine if you wanna hit a nerve!" Peyton said.

Then, suddenly, Peyton put two and two together. That was why Keith felt like a vaguely familiar face! Peyton had heard of the rookie Dragon when he was making small talk with some of his now former coworkers. He didn't remember the specifics of the conversation, but it seemed that subconsciously he had remembered the name. Keith's defensive response to being recommended to join the Dragons jolted that connection back into Peyton's mind.

"Oh you're totally a Dragon, aren't you? I used to be one too!" Peyton said. He was aware that announcing such a fact would agitate the guy even more. But as they said, in for a penny, in for a pound. Noticing that Keith was overheating, Peyton scooped out a spoonful of rocky road. A good portion of the ice cream had melted, but Peyton was still able to find a scoop that was soft, but still frozen. He lifted it up towards Keith in an offer, "You sure you don't want some to cool down? Say 'aaah!'"

Roda the Red Roda the Red
 

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