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

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

Before following Passeri, Hiachi walked over to the stand that held Burger Knight’s condiments. She grabbed salt and pepper packets, napkins, and ketchup packets—all a handful each. Not that she was going to use all of them at that moment. She just knew that later on, she would need salt or pepper or napkins or ketchup, and she would regret not seizing this opportunity. She stuffed them in her pockets before walking towards the booth that Passeri had chosen.

Passeri brimmed with an almost childish excitement. Hiachi couldn’t imagine getting that excited over Burger Knight’s static-generating plastic seats, but she supposed Passeri was just one of those people. She leaned forward, trying to prevent her already messy hair from sticking to the seat.

“They’re different… Burger Knight uses a different batter, I think.” Hiachi used her plastic straw to spin her iced tea around her cup. “I like them.”

Passeri complained about her coach, something that Hiachi couldn’t dream of relating to. She considered eating food during the day to be an accomplishment. Celebrities like Passeri Park really lived in another realm, huh? She heard about the concept from her older brother. Celebrities… they’re like deities of entertainment. World leaders and engineers look out for their well-being in a very logical sense. They used their money to secure their futures for generations to come. But celebrities live to perform. Their lives were vivisected by the public, so they had to make sure every little detail aligned with what was entertaining. There was nowhere to hide. It was funny to think that even after knowing all that, Kenki still kinda wanted to be a celebrity.

Hiachi didn’t like thinking about her family. She moved on to something else.

So they cheered to another one of Passeri’s secrets. Only, Hiachi couldn’t shake the jealousy that pooled in her heart. Hiachi’s secrets constantly beat her down. Her family, her friends, her home, her passions, even the shitty life that she lived a year before being forced into the Tigers. She had to keep it under lock and key. Passeri’s secrets were just… weak.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. To be fair, Passeri Park being a gang member was enough of a secret to last anyone a lifetime. A secret too dangerous to put into words.





















…Unfortunately, this was where Passeri Park would learn the truth: It didn’t matter if they were in a heated altercation with a drugged-up maniac or waiting for a meal at Burger Knight. Hiachi Ito wasn’t much of a talker. Any musings she considered she considered to herself.


 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
City of Prying Eyes
TIME:
December 14th, 2021 | Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Breakfast Restaurant Patio, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kiwi, Passeri
City of Prying Eyes
"I-" Passeri almost couldn't contain the frown that was tugging at the edges of her brow. "Are you serious?"

Tragically, she was. As Passeri scanned the document Kiwi had handed her, her battle with her frown became fiercer and fiercer. By the end, it was only through the greatest exercise of her will that her countenance remained neutral.

"Christ..." However, she felt defeated nonetheless. How couldn't she? It was hardly good news that she'd been expecting, but she'd still been holding out hope that Lisette knew better than she had. Better than this. "I knew she'd gotten mixed up in some sort of a mess, but this is something else. Honestly. She was supposed to be the smart one."

She wasn't sure if it was pity or anger that she was feeling. They'd hardly separated on good terms, but had Lisette really been so determined to go it on her own that she'd rather deal with shady loan sharks, rather than her and hers? She might've been hurt, if she weren't so busy being stunned by the stupidity of it all. It was really hard for her to impress hard enough; She was supposed to be the smart one.

"Thanks for this." She tucked the slip of paper into her purse, and a morose sigh escaped her. "Payment'll be in your account by down. I'll grab the bill for this, too... I think I could use some tea after reading all of that."

And some biscuits, she added, as she called over the waiter to give her order.

"What about you? Hungry?" Not that she was herself. She was ordering for her nerves, not her stomach. "Grab anything you want. As a token of appreciation, for what it's worth."

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

Hiachi just stared and stared at Rem. Must have been for a full minute, at least.

Now that she had the name, she couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t thought of the name herself. “Rem, ‘cause Rem remembers”. Something like that. And Rem really did remember everything. Even now she remembered everything, down to the name of the summer camp.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t surprising. It shocked Hiachi to her core. She was so calm as she so casually gave details she couldn’t reach, even as she sat by the waterside.

It came so easily to Rem. So easily that she rolled her eyes at the notion that Hiachi couldn’t remember.

When she sat down and extended her hand for a shake, Hiachi felt she couldn’t do anything but shake her hand. She didn’t need to know how she remembered—that was something Rem had always been able to do, at least to the best of Hiachi’s memory. But how was she here at the exact same time she was?

“Huh.” Hiachi returned the handshake. “Uh… Why are you here?”


 
Kazue Kaneko
SCENE:
Helping Hand
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Kazue
Helping Hand

Kazue was stationary still, but Charlie wasn’t. Seemed that gang affiliation was a problem for him. Wonder why. She waited for him to process the information, still ready to turn tail and get reinforcements. If she had to rat on someone she had done that with, too bad.

Well, her excessive trust had gotten through to him, as the blue haired boy turned back to her and also confessed his allegiance.

Oh. Ohhhh. Oh no.

Well, that was not good. There weren’t many explanations for someone ending up beaten bloody in a random back alley, but this one was an especially unfortunate one. Supposedly, Charlie’s hands only had his own blood on them, but that didn’t really matter to Kazue. The healer had helped plenty of murderers before. As long as he didn’t break that clean stretch by breaking her bones, she was fine.

Charlie exposed his arm to the frigid air, revealing the injury that had likely caused this whole meeting. A severe laceration of the forearm, heavy bleeding, with additional minor injuries. Kazue had seen worse. An sliced up arm or two was as common as snowflakes in a blizzard. She had stopped flinching at them since before she had graduated high school. This was child’s play. Still, she approached at a glacial pace. It was beyond foolish for Charlie to attack her now, of course. But a cornered animal is the most dangerous animal. No one knows what its going to do, especially not itself.

“I have something better than a medkit.” With the blazing speed of a bear rolling over in its sleep while hibernating for the winter, Kazue extended a helping hand to touch Charlie’s injury and activate her Potential.

She pulled away immediately. She didn’t know if ripping her hand away like a child recoiling from touching something cold or gently bringing it back like a frozen hand slowly grabbing a precious coffee would have been better for not endangering herself. It was too late to question that now. What it wasn’t too late to question was if doing this was a good idea or not.

Would he attack now that he didn’t need healing anymore? Maybe she should have just washed her hands of this.

Kazue scrambled backwards, waiting for Charlie to make a move.

 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Lady Madonna
LOCATION:
June 24th, 2022 | Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Our ✰ Dream Soup Kitchen, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Passeri
Lady Madonna
As Passeri rallied the not-so-enthusiastic troops, Eric nodded silently and followed along. He was having enough fun back at the kitchen to forget the true nature of his visit, and selfless gesture towards the people aside, he wasn't exactly thrilled by the prospect of serving random people for who knows how long, for now he could only pray that either the company around him was entertaining enough to last the rest of the day, or that at least the battery left on his phone was enough to last.

He listened to Jonas' instructions and guidance, a straightforward procedure that needed little in the way of management, a little boring, but the Detective could do with that. He also managed to make a short albeit sweet small talk with his fellow volunteer, it was quite the easy task to pry him open, and have him talk about some of the juicier bits about the past misadventures in this place.

Noticing Passeri approach, he gave her a small nod of aknowledgement. Followed by a single raised eyebrow at her request, "Sure, I can try" He shifted his face forward. With his stone gaze unmoved, his lips alienated any attempt at an upwards curvature. "Well, sorry, I tried" He whispered emotion, reaching for his first bowl to serve as the crowd approached.

Apparent sarcasm and all, an attempt was actually made. But the detective's smile was but a priviledge only provided to those who he liked or found amusing, strangers would instead have to do with an expression with the same level of vigor and joy to that of a wasteland.


The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Be My Guest
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | June 7th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District, Totally Metal Derelict Lot
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Hyun, Dagger
Be My Guest
"Alright, team!" The unrelenting brrrr of the van's engine imbued Passeri's voice with a tinny cadence. She honestly wasn't sure why she still kept the thing around. There were memories within the ugly little vehicle, she supposed, memories in the shape of stains, and stains that smelled of something that she could never quite describe. The scent was one of the mysteries that had come with the van, and on hot, summer days such as this, it was at its most pungent.

"Let's go over this one more time, shall we?" For posterity's sake, the chipper note in her voice added. "So, I've got this lot that some of the other talent at Our Dream have been scheduled to shoot at this week. Problem is, right about when we were about to set up shop, this band of, what's the word? Punks? Decided to put down some make themselves comfortable up on the second floor."

And they'd learned about all of this the hard way. Imagine the surprise, if you would, that had come across the crew of manicured musicians and lanky techies, when a neon-haired gaggle of thugs had emerged from the shadows screaming about how they were 'ON THEIR TURF!' and 'LOOKIN' FOR TROUBLE!?!?!?'. It hadn't been pretty, their manager had assured her.

She was just thankful that, for all of their bluster, the gang of squatters hadn't harmed anybody. It was only the ego of the would-be rockstar, who had tried to out-man the largest of the punks, had needed tending to. And his cheek, actually, but from what she'd been able to tell, they hadn't even slapped him that hard.

"Your job-" She addressed Hyun, the belle of today's ball. "-is to take care of that. From what I hear, they're real follow-the-leader types. So if you just rough 'em up enough, I'm hoping that they'll get scared and scamper off."

Hoping was the keyword, there. The fact that her people had gotten away with no more than a firm slap led her to believe that what they were dealing with were punks, and not hardened thugs, but it was still only a belief. Faith. A theory.

"And if they don't..." Her attention turned to her lovely assistant, whose aroma was only slightly more discernable than that of the van's. "...Then Dagger here is your backup. But only if, you understand?" It was important to stress. Hyun's covert assessment aside, Dagger, true to her name, was a sharp woman, and today what she needed was bludgeoning. Frightful and heavy, but otherwise recoverable, bludgeoning. Not the cutting and stabbing that such sharpness brought with it.

That was half of the reason why she hadn't just gotten her to take care of this in the first place.

"Of course, if things go south, I'll be there to lend a hand too." But so long as they didn't, she'd be on standby with Dagger on the sidelines. "Everything clear?"

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Dress Code for Violence
TIME:
Evening, Post-Arc 2, April 2nd 2022
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Yong-Yut
Dress Code for Violence
Charlie gave Yong-Yut a puzzled look, unable to understand her rejection of his affection. Admitedly, this was far from the first time he had hugged a Phoenix, only to be met with discontent, but such an outcome was to be expected from the feistier members, such as Hide, Yong-Yut, though? She seemed like one of the friendlier specimens among the spicy birds' ranks. "What's wrong, did I-" It was then, that an overly complex and long Goldberg Machine had finished its course deep inside of Charlie's mind, the prize at the end being an unearthed memory from Vulken, explaining his best friend's condition and how annoyed he was by its inconvenience.

Charlie's face slowly transitioned from an awkward smile into an expression of shock and horror. "OH NO YONG-YUT I'M SO SORRY!" He clasped his hands before proceeding to bow multiple times in quick succession. "Vulken told me about it a long time ago, I completely forgot, I didn't mean to..." It didn't seem like the veteran was all that upset over it, or at the very least was nice enough to not let it linger any longer. Nevertheless, the rookie's guilt remained high and strong.

"...Oh! Okay, how about this!" He lifted his arm, his index finger protruding upwards out of his otherwise closed hand. "I know you don't wanna charge me for the suit...But how about I invite you over for dinner? I know a few good places in the area, consider it as me saying both thanks and sorry at the same time, my treat!" He paused for a moment, his eyes going wide after realizing the way his question could've been interpreted "J-JUST A-AS FRIENDS, OF COURSE! Sorry I didn't mean it like that" He expected some reluctance her, after all, had it been him in their place, he would probably feel exactly the same, but alas, he refused to give up, subtle sad puppy eyes and all. "Please, I insist"


gxxberkit gxxberkit
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
CS Link
SCENE:
To Live in the Shadows
TIME:
Afternoon, Pre-Arc 1, June 11th 2020
LOCATION:
Nameless Warehouse, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Helva
To Live in the Shadows
Sunlight finally bid adieu in its completion, with deep, uninviting darkness now fully enveloping the warehouse. Charlie started to get somewhat worried, what if whoever was facing him wasn't going to show up after all? It was strange, knowing that the encounter had been delayed to such late hours, wouldn't it be better for both parties to be in an enviroment where they can clearly see? Truly, the ways of the Scarlet Phoenixes currently elluded him.

It was then that the unsettling quiet of the building was broken, rattling could be heard nearby, the boy shifting his gaze, curious by the sound. His guard was not high enough for properly react to the heavy crate coming his way. It hit his chest, very briefly knocking the wind out of his lungs as the forced knocked him back a few steps. He gasped, quickly recovering from the admitedly mild, yet unexpected, blow.

Of course, it all made sense now. Charlie was once again reminded the hard way of the kind of organization he was joining. The Phoenixes were criminals, even if their intentions could potentially be good at the end of the day, their methods would not be dragged down by some sort of code of honor or transparency. Within the darkness, the picture for Charlie had never been clearer. To be become a Phoenix was not to become a knight in shiny armor, it was to become an agent who did what had to be done, fighting through the adversities while walking hand in hand with the underbelly of the city.


To live as a Phoenix is to live in the shadows.


A second crate came his way, from a different direction altogether. But this time, he was prepared. With a single blow of his rebar-reinforced fist, he shattered the crate in pieces, dust and wood chips flying around, scattering on the floor, its heavy contents dropping down, getting in the way of the battlefield. Behind same crate, however, was a figure that approached rapidly, the trial-taker was quick enough to put up his guard, blocking the kick with his forearm. The momentum from the blow was strong enough to forcibly slide him backwards, the soles of his shoes screeching as the material rubbed against the floor. With a tackling motion, he managed to push the attacker back, now able to see, however faint, the person who attacked him.

"...Revenant, is that you? So you're the one I'm facing after all?" He put on a combat stance, armored first and right left facing forward, left leg and arm facing back, an extremely amateur combat position, but the determination came across "Thank you for having me"


Peckinou Peckinou
 
LIZZIE K. COLEMAN
SCENE:
Lady Madonna
TIME:
June 24th, 2022 | Post Arc 3, Timeskip 1
LOCATION:
Our ✰ Dream Soup Kitchen, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric.... Residents of the South
MISS DEMEANOR (Lady Madonna)
“And then they kicked me out! Can you BELIEVE that?”

Their snarl was met with an awkward, blank stare.

“They didn’t even offer me refreshments!”

More silence.

MEATLOCK grabbed the stranger’s collar, pulling them close.

“They didn’t! Even! Offer! Refreshments!”

—Click!

Immediately, the stranger was shoved into another person, and MEATLOCK was pushing their way to the front of the rabble. Once they got through the open doors, their eye seemed to sparkle.

They took in the mouth watering aroma.

“Now THESE are refreshments!” they announced to— well, no one, now that they’d pushed the stranger away.

MEATLOCK was a “regular” here, but they weren’t very much of the cherished sort. On any given day, there was a 50-50 chance MEATLOCK would either be a functioning member of society or a complete and utter nuisance.

At least MEATLOCK hadn’t tried burning the place down yet. And, to their delight, they hadn’t gotten banned forever, either.

With confident strides, they made their way up to the front of the line. MEATLOCK picked up a plate with a toothy grin and a jovial stroll down to the first person they saw holding a bowl and ladle.

They presented their plate up to the man whose hair was almost as edible as the food they served, adjusting their goggles. “Bowl’a soup.” They snuffled.

“Puh-lease-uh~”

 
YONG-YUT SOMSRI
SCENE:
Dress Code for Violence
TIME:
Evening, Post-Arc 2, April 2nd 2022
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, YY
Dress Code for Violence
Yong-Yut waited patiently as the gears turned in Charlie’s mind. As they slowly clicked into place, Yong-Yut shook her head.

“No, you didn’t—”

She quickly withdrew her hand, staring at him wide-eyed as he deeply apologized. “No, no, no, no,” she interrupted, “you’re fine. I didn’t even expect you to know.”

Her arms dropped as one of his raised. Tilting her head, his offer was considered for a moment.

Following it came a hint of confusion.

“I didn’t think it was as anything else, Charlie.” She paused to think. “Anyway, I guess dinner works; I was actually just going to go get some.” She perked up with a soft clap. "But— if we’re going somewhere, I’d love to go to Cuisinaire’s. It’s my favorite, and not too expensive.”




Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Inigo Han
SCENE:
Not Thinking Twice
LOCATION:
Nighttime, Streets of Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camilla, Inigo
Not Thinking Twice

“You only had to ask.” Given their demeanour, they were probably not of Tiger or Dragon affiliation. He couldn’t discount the Serpents or the Phoenixes- they were both too violent and unpredictable for their own good. He eased his grip, letting the woman fall to the ground, and dusted his hands. “Go on, get out of here.” By all rights, he could affect an arrest right now, call in help, put them behind bars, but that would only mean more paperwork, questioning, and another talk from the boss. He wanted none of those right now.

He stepped over the female and around the collapsed male, striding straight towards their victim, who, it seemed to him, had managed to compose herself enough to pull off her own rescue. What should he say? Hanging out with Eric too much had made him realise that it was much easier to appear ‘cool’ in the eyes of other guys. A one-liner, a simple ‘you alright?’, things like that were received by other dudes and children. With a lady, though, it was a coinflip. Would he look too much like an egotist? Would he just come off as creepy? Did she even need his help? What if he had just spoiled something for her? She was a HP, maybe she had this under control?

He rubbed the back of his neck, then brushed his long hair behind his shoulder. “Dark nights like these aren’t a time for a lady like yourself to be wandering around alone. I’d be happy to walk you back home if you’d like.” Yeah, completely neutral, hopefully not too pushy, maybe a little too polite for his liking. He grit his teeth. Man, he was now very sure he wasn’t used to talking to girls outside of the office.




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

Amid his food vacant despair, Tak couldn’t even embrace the prospect of getting some free high-quality liquor. Instead, he resigned himself to agony, dread, and hatred at these socialites for skimping out on buying food for him to mooch off.

In the depths of darkness, the brightest light could be found. A warm hand on his shoulder opened his eyes to the brightness, something so vibrant that his eyes had to scrunch to bask in the light, luminescence shining off his glossy eyes, highlights quivering.

The words of an angel, the singing tones of a harpy, the call of a siren.

“As much…as I want?”

Tears began to well in the corners of his eyes. He truly had been graced. An arm came up to wipe the water out of his eyes as he rose to his feet.

“ALRIGHT!” Tak said enthusiastically, slamming his fist into a palm, a toothy grin on his face that would be more at home on the boisterous youth of a young protagonist in an overseas comic than a full-grown man wearing a spray-painted suit, “Count your minutes, Hornclan! We’re outta bust this whole thing wide open!”

Not only forgetting their target’s name, Tak shouted their goals out loud, the grand epitome of espionage skills. Luckily for Camila, the loud music and incessant chatter of the rich types kept his voice from being heard.

It was almost minutes later that his enthusiasm had entirely disappeared. By the time he had taken a seat next to Camila, he was already snoring, head tilted back as drool came out the corners of his mouth, splayed out wide in the chair.

He really wasn’t going to be of any help, was he?

The sounds of the music slowly ending, the piano’s final notes and keys, before the curtains closed, leaving the stage vacant. On cue, the people began to move in unison, as if trained and well-experienced with the process; they went to take their seats, quickly filling up the rows with only a few vacant spots. The last bits of conversation slowly died out, leaving silence.

And then, once again, the curtain rose. What had replaced the band was instead a man in a fancy suit, bright red and matching sparkling bow tie, his blonde hair slicked back, as a gold tooth shimmered under the stage light, a white-gloved hand reaching up to adjust his sunglasses.

“GREEEETINGS, LADIES AND GENTLEMENNNNN!”

The man splayed his arms out wide, inviting the crowd to bring their attention to him, his booming voice only amplified by the microphone attached to his collar.

“True connoisseurs of art and style, it is a pleasure to have you here! I see many familiar faces-- and masks-- within the crowd! Your taste for only the finest, most exclusive art has led you right back here, has it not!?” The MC excitedly exclaimed, earning claps and nods from the crowd as he strutted across the stage.

“Well, I got good news for you all because today’s offerings are special!” He announced, raising an upward before dropping it to direct it towards the stands, “How so!? Well, that’s because our art comes from no other than our special guest! Debora Hillclad! That’s right! For bidding today are her own unreleased, exclusive pieces!”

Unanimous cheering and ovation came simply from the woman’s name, excitement rustling through the surroundings as the eccentrics felt the pockets and bank accounts starting to grow lighter at each word.


“Now!” Focus brought back to the stage, the man beckoned his arm off the set, “The moment you have been waiting for, our esteemed artist shall reveal the first piece up for bidding herself! Please give a warm welcome to Miss Hillclad!”

Among all this excitement, Tak scratched his balls in his sleep before his head tilted forward, causing him to slump over.
 
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store
TIME:
July 6th, 2022 || Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Zentsupa Pei, Passeri Park
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
Before Pei could get the chance to disgrace the half-dead woman, the effects of Lala’s needle resurrected her nervous system before her mind, causing her to spring back to life. Both he and Bushineko were left frozen in time, blinking blankly, frozen amid their brawl, Bushineko still absentmindedly gnawing into Pei’s arm while the demonic child had his mouth hanging open in a joyous toothy grin.

As it seemed her addled mind finally decided to process what was going on, Bushienko finally removed his mouth from his creator, looking at Passeri with a smile as he landed back onto his feet with the chirp of his feet, “Iroi-sama! You’re okay-zarunyan!” He was elated, visibly sparkling in happiness to see the woman awake and cohesive. But at the disgusting sight of blood and mucus causing his expression to deflate into worry, Lala was beside him as they both brought their hands (or paws) to the side of their heads and screamed in horror as if she was about to keel back over.

“I appreciate you trying to thank me, but you should stop talking-zarunyaaaann!” Bushineko shrilly cried, trying to keep the idol from hacking up a lung at this rate.

Meanwhile, in the background, Q-Bot was sitting with his head dropped between his knees, an aura of depression emanating from him as he was shrouded in darkness, visible wisps of despair floating beside him as tears came from the robot's eyes.

“Where’s my thanks?”



“Kekekekek.”
Pei cackled under his breath as he tossed the sharpie in his hand over his shoulder, looking up at the woman, his tiny pupils gazing over her. Seeing the pristine vision of an idol in this state was interesting enough, but now, knowing what she was only made the situation all the more laughable. Part of him wondered if it was too good to be true, that this simple excursion gave him such a chance to play a game like this, but he already knew when the gas mask-wearing freak spoke, he was telling the truth.

Finally, her attention turned to him. The ringleader of the band of misfits. Here was a Phoenix being thanked by the Jack of Tigers. He halfway wanted to break out into full-blown laughter at the concept, but instead, he simply stood up, not responding to the woman's question about him as he looked over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Iroi-sama. I took care of him. He won’t be bothering you anymore-zarunyan,” Bushineko said confidently, placing his paws on his hips as he puffed out his chest like a proud warrior.

“Nah. He’s alive.”

Pei’s words immediately destroyed Bushineko’s valiant pose, his gaze immediately sharpening as he turned towards Pei, “What!?”

“Well, I should say there’s about a 5% chance he’s alive,”
Pei clarified, blowing another gum bubble as he looked toward the vacant spot where the gas mask freakazoid once lay. Bushineko stepped forward, visibly scowling as he saw it, too; where Karne had been was empty except for a pool of his blood.

“Considering how much blood he lost, the depth of the wound, I wouldn’t be surprised if he died during his escape,” Pei explained casually, his wad of gum once again popping, leaving him to reach up and scrap it off his lips and shove it back into his mouth before continuing,But, considering fucked in the head he is, he definitely utilized his potential to shove some rocks into the wound to stop the bleeding until he got to someone who can heal him, and just deal with painfully getting them torn out later, damn weirdo.”

Pei paused momentarily to glance at Kiys and nodded his head as a wordless signal, the demon bat saluting before flying off, leaving Pei to continue as he crossed his arms. “The only thing not in his favor is that with the earthquake, there’s no easy place he can get to a doctor anywhere close. He only has 30 minutes at most. So unless he gets lucky with a group of people still workin’ on the rescue effort that has EMTs, he’s fuckin’ done. There's a 95% chance he’ll die.”

Finishing his explanation, Pei turned back to Passeri, still wearing a massive grin, “But, there’s still that 5% chance he’s going to come back and kill you. Kekekekek.”

Pei broke the news with a smile on his face, the only one showing any fear about the situation; Bushineko’s paw reflexively went to reach for his sword, as Lala had gone to cower behind a piece of rubble, worriedly looking around as if the monster could come back any second.

“I won’t let him!” Bushineko declared, his fangs gritting against each other as he felt himself once again starting to bubble with rage, “I will protect Iroi-sama with my life-zarunyan!”

“Like hell you will! KEKEKEKEKEK!” Pei cackled in response to the samurai’s soulful declaration, the seriousness of it falling apart as Bushineko was left to look at Pei, waving his arms around, annoyed like a frustrated child, “What do you mean by that-zarunyan!?”

“What I mean--”
Pei interrupted himself to raise a hand up in the air, just in time for a crumbled box of cereal to land into his hands, which he promptly shook around to punctuate his point, “She’s got much more capable people of protecting her than someone like you. Stay in your fuckin’ late, fleaball.”

Bushineko could stare at him with twitching brows, letting out a growl as he prepared to rebuke Pei’s assertion, but before he could, Pei turned his attention away from him and looked upwards, where Kiys was floating above after airdropping a box of the Petal Pieces.

“OI! WHERE’S THE FUCKIN’ MILK AT!? YOU EXPECT ME TO EAT THIS DRY, YOU FUCKIN’ USED TAMPON!?” Pei shouted in outrage at his Playmate, pupils disappearing to leave him with whites and, head enlarging to comically present his fury, causing Kiys to instantly break out in a sweat, hurriedly beating his wings.

“I’m sorry! I completely forgot! I’ll go grab some!” He blustered out before quickly flying back off, leaving Pei to turn his attention downward to look at Bushineko; his smirk had finally disappeared with a frown, “I’m not about to let you get involved in another gang’s business because of your own little boner for her. You’re useless now. That guy won’t let you get another one over on him even if you’re there,” Pei stated simply, clearly not interested in mincing words with anyone.

But, a keyword stuck out. “Another gang’s business?” Those words were clear.

Bushineko was left with nothing to say in response, head turning to look away in defeat as he knew what Pei was saying was true. A silence came between them, and the argument was over.

And so, Pei walked past the cat, positioning himself beside Passeri once more with a toothy smile. There was only so long he had left until the media would get here and ruin his fun, so he decided he at least had one question to ask her.

“So, ‘Jack of the Tigers, Passeri Park,’” He began, reaching a hand over to haphazardly open the box of petal pieces, something that would cause many collectors to have a heart attack. He tore open the plastic interior, opening it up into the air, just in time for Kiys to fly by with a slightly mangled quart of milk. Using his teeth sharpened teeth, he pried the top open before tipping it downward to fill the box with milk, stopping just before it overfilled.

“I still haven’t heard the answer to my question. Though I guess you were too busy trying to not die to hear it, so I’ll let it slide,” Pei spat out his gum to the side before bringing the box of cereal to his mouth, tilting his head back to let the cereal pour into his wide open mouth, before slamming it shut and loudly chewing, before finally asking his question once more with his mouth full.

“Why do house cats sharpen their claws?”


















“Kekekekek! This shit is fucking disgusting! What the hell!?”
Pei cackled with his mouth full of cereal before promptly tossing the box into the distance, leaving behind a milk trail as it soared into space.

“I WANNA TRY SOOOMEEEE!” Bushineko and Q-Bot both shouted in unison, chasing after the box, promptly leaping into the air to try and catch it, only to find themselves floating above the supermarket. They both looked down and blinked in unison.

“...Eh?”

And then, gravity took its delayed effect.

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

The sounds of them clattering onto the ground reverberated in the distance as a plume of dust puffed up into the air.





The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
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HIDE ISHIDA
SCENE:
Homecoming Headache
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 | April 28, 2020 | 7:15 PM
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hide, Helva
Homecoming Headache
The heterochromic eyed man sighed, kicking a stray can he tossed away earlier as he wandered near the border of the Phoenix territory. He, unfortunately, had been assigned the job for night patrol as punishment for "starting" a fight with another Phoenix. Well, they didn't explicitly say it was for that, but Hide knew it was- those petty bastards. Even though his mission just began- since there was only a sliver of the sun peeking above the horizon- Hide was already bored to death. That was probably why they picked it for him.

He tilted his chin up to the sky, letting out a long sigh-turning-groan into the air. The hoodie-wearing man mumbled, his brows furrowed in irritation. "Fuck this... I'm out. Screw the Phoenixes and this stupid punishment.. " Without another second wasted, he turned tail and sprinted away- lest he actually by caught by a member.

After some time of just looking for trouble- literally- he heard a commotion. Well, it was more like an argument. Hide hid behind a building, peeking over the side of the wall. He spotted two men having a vulgar discourse, practically tasting the tense and bitter profanities they spat at one another in the air. His eyes roamed- having forgone his glasses tonight- noticing multiple other people crowded around, and clearly not the pleasant kind. The corner of Hide's lip lifted in an eager grin. Now this was his kind of party.


 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Pre-Arc 1 || Dancing the Night Away
TIME:
August 17th, 2021
LOCATION:
North District, Ecstasy Nightclub
PARTICIPANTS:
Takahiro, Raph
DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY
Raph smiled thinly. It was a threat. A warning sign. A venomous snake's brightly colored scales.

Red on yellow, kill a fellow.

Raph was pleased to see that the belligerent failed to get the message.

"You know, you're right," Raph whispered, letting the din of the basement rave steal away his words. "I am a shite dancer." He slipped from Taka's side, tugging free of his fellow Serpent's grip.

The drunkard, noticing this, said something that Raph didn't catch over the cacophony of the base and the shouting of the partygoers that surrounded them. He assumed it wasn't particularly complimentary.

"Perhaps that's why I don't particularly care for it." He lied, but Raph had already decided what he was going to do—he'd seen the end of this script, and was in the process of hastily filling in the gaps before he got there. "This," Raph gestured toward both himself and his would-be cuckold. "I very much prefer. ~"

As if on cue, more words came tumbling out of the other man's mouth like sewage from a drain pipe. Or rather, they would have. For in the very same moment, Raph's hand clamped down underneath the man's jaw. He lifted. He squeezed.

Raph's smile widened until it reached his eyes, now gleaming with delight. He had to tilt his head back now to peer up at the face of the man's face, distorted and misfigured from the vice-like pressure of Raph's hand. His legs kicked out, dangling helplessly as Raph held him aloft in one hand.

Raph watched with mounting pleasure as the man's glassy eyes slowly filled with fear as the realization of what had just occurred washed over him. His hands scrabbled to pry Raph's fingers from around his throat. He was attempting to speak, but the words could not escape. Raph would not allow them to escape.

"You know, I really ought to thank you. I was worried this was going to be a boring evening. But thanks to you, that's all changed. ~"

As Raph hoisted him higher, the room began to take notice that something was amiss. Somewhere, a woman screamed. There was a rustle of footfalls, no longer dancing. Several voices cried out to cut the music! and hit the lights!

To Raph, it all felt immaterial and far away. His mind was laser focused on the face of the man in his grasp. He watched it with rapt attention, studying all of its micro- and macro-expressions as his fingers began to curl into his flesh, strangling the scream that had welled up in his throat.

 
HIDE ISHIDA
SCENE:
The Hellion Charge
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, May 2021
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hide, Charlie
The Hellion Charge

Hide was in fact against wearing a suit.

There Hide walked, adjusting the white collar of his dress shirt, his black suit feeling tight around his shoulders. He could have rented a bigger one, but then it would look baggy. Of course he doesn't really mind baggy clothes in the first place- but he doubted it would be acceptable for these rich blockheads they were going to meet. So, tight shoulders it was. Charlie had better be grateful Hide's going this far for him. Totally for him and not the money... Of course.

The tall man had an annoyed scowl on his face as he finally walked up to his blue haired friend, wanting so badly to drag his feet- but not wanting the new shiny charcoal gnome hats surrounding his socks to get scuffed. His toes were fucking suffocating. He came to a stop right in front of Charlie, his eyes blank and his lips downturned, showing clearly how displeased he was about this. After a silent moment of staring, Hide announced disdainfully.

"I'm here."

His gold and black irises eyed Charlie from head to toe, a huff leaving him as he stopped his inspection. He reached forward with a scarred hand, adjusting a lock of Charlie's hair so it looked neater. The bottom half of an Oreo hair sighed, scratching lightly at his jaw. After a brief moment of hesitation, he acknowledged.

"You look good."


 
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Helva Linxal
SCENE:
To live in the shadows
LOCATION:
Warehouse, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Helva, Hiyma, Charlie Roda the Red Roda the Red
To live in the shadows

The first crate hit, which meant he was caught off guard, but he was at least prepared for the second one and had done decently well in dealing with her follow-up kick and considering the fact he was able to remain on his feet, would be considered an impressive feat in it's own right. Though she figured that he was stronger than he looked anyhow as she recalled the events at the restaurant, him being able to take on two people and push them out of the place like that definitely required a bit of strength. Although Hiyma only rarely gave her information on their trialees, she knew enough from her past experience with him to know that he definitely had quite a bit of strength and durability, which was most likely a result of his potential. Both of them were to have little information on one another, though that could sometimes change depending on the experience and skills of the trialee, but this was not one of those cases. There was honestly little she could do in that regard anyway, besides probably giving him a hint as to what type of person he was dealing with, which was perhaps an option that she could do. So with a sinister smile on her face, she looked towards Charlie studying his amature-like posture, from looks alone, she could tell he probably didn't have much real combat training and more than likely relied on his potential too much. Though it was a flaw, it wasn't a deal breaker but it was something that could be used against him, though it wasn't something she herself could use against him at the moment.

Either way, as Charlie spoke seeming glad to be able to take this trial, Revenant was more focused on their adversary but they weren't supposed to be going too hard on the boy as his threat level wasn't too high so she figured talking to him and dragging his complete attention onto her would be in her best interest. "Don't be surprised and don't think I'm taking it easy on you just cause you're cute, your trial began as soon as you stepped through those doors, and if your gonna pass this trial you need to have both skills and know how to survive." Her voice was a bit hostile but it soon shifted to being amused as she continued "Now let's see how well you can play in the dark." Without another word she lunged for what seemed to be a metal pipe on the ground, something that mostly likely came from one of the boxes that was kicked towards the boy. Before then she charged towards him lunging the pipe to his left only to make a feint and aim a punch towards their facial area. Her current tactic was to gain his complete attention so that he would be completely focused on her while her co-fighter began to stealthfully enter the area they were near, but not going in until they were sure they could approach the boy undetected.

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Dress Code for Violence
TIME:
Evening, Post-Arc 2, April 2nd 2022
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Yong-Yut
Dress Code for Violence
The rookie smiled candidly, a victory secured on his end as the kind tailor accepted his humble request. He did a quick fist pump with a low, high pitched hum before regaining his composure. "That's settled then!"

He hand reached into the insde of his pant's pocket, pulling out his phone before quickly checking on the time, a '19:07' showed in large white numbers, overlapped on a background of himself wrapping his arms around the shoulders of his friends he made back at the convention in central. "Cuisinaire's, huh? I've been there a lot as well, their lasagna is great, and they should've opened by now, let's go whenever you're ready!"

WIth no more reasons to linger around HQ, the pair headed outside, the cool early spring evening breeze howling through the dimly lit streets of South District. Charlie would have probably felt a bit chilly had he only walked around with his shirt on, so this was but an extra convenience resulting from the encounter. Their destination, Cousiniarie's, was only a few blocks away from the base, thus there was no need for any sort of transportation.

With duet of footsteps being the only source of sound in the vicinity, Charlie noticed the somewhat awkward (at least from his perspective) silence. "So...what brought you to HQ today? Were you meeting with Coalescence?"


gxxberkit gxxberkit
 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Unlikely Encounter
TIME:
Pre-Arc 2 — September 20th, 2021; 1:00 AM
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael, August
UNLIKELY ENCOUNTER
Raph rolled his eyes by way of answer, looking away. His gaze once more trailed over the darkened alley, abandoned as it were. There was an unspoken probe in August's question that Raph failed to recognize.

"And what 'type' is that, exactly? Stone-cold bitch, is that right?" Raph's voice was harsh, but his mouth quirked a smile.

He took another sip of the cheap, gas station coffee and let the comforting warmth wash over him. He felt giddy for a reason he couldn't quite place.

Raph swiveled back in his seat to face forward, cocking his head to one side as he considered the idea that his blind-date had, in fact, not stood him up, but rather fell prey to one of the numerous gangs and criminal enterprises that roved the city at all hours of the day or night.

"Hm. Yes, that's a rather appealing thought, actually. Let's go with that." He gulped down half of all the coffee he had left then threw the remnants out the open window. If Raph though twice about littering the streets of the North District with even more refuse than it had already accumulated after so many long years of neglect, he didn't show it.

As they drove, Raph sunk lower into the seat. The coffee hadn't taken hold. He now wished he hadn't wasted the remainder of it.

Raph felt his eyes grow heavy. Before them, the doldrums of the North stretched out endlessly, as the occasional dim glow from a flickering street lamp penetrated the deep gloom, casting eerie shadows that danced and played along the perpetually rain-slicked asphalt.

As the car rolled to a stop outside Hel, Raph sprawled out in his seat, stretching his arms overhead until they scraped against the headliner. He let out a small, satisfied sigh.

"Darling, there is nothing I'd like more." Though he remained where he was, unsure what the next move was. Now that they had arrived, Raph realized he had no idea what came next. No clue how the logistics would stack up. Whether he'd be sleeping alone.

No.

He had already been stood up once this evening. There was no way in Hel he was going to let himself be caught dead misreading another signal.

 
Last edited:
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Calling Amestria
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 4th, 2022
LOCATION:
Not-So-Abandoned Storefront, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger
Calling Amestria
"I'll hold you to it! It's really quite hard to find a helping hand you can trust in this little club of ours, you know?" For once, luck was with Elise Cutter. Whatever her verbal slip had meant, a veneer of obliviousness had hidden it from Passeri. "Here's hoping you don't regret those words~"

Satisfied with her break, and unfettered by whatever it was that'd troubled the other woman so, Passeri stood from her resting place and busied herself with a review of the unloaded cargo. As she weaved amongst the collection of pottery and furniture, her attention lingered for a moment on the set of boxes she'd had Elise set aside. It saved her a spot of bother that they'd come in today, and some part of her itched to just get it out of the way already, but it seemed that whatever she had in mind for them, it was something that could wait. Until they were done with all of the heavy lifting, at least.

"Looks like everything's here, at least..." An array of pots, displays, and bags of dirt lined the curb. It was convenient, she thought, that this part of town was abandoned as it was. There was hardly anybody who was going to be complaining about their clogging up of this particular patch of the New Oasis sidewalk. "Slow and steady you said, right? How about we get all of this inside, and then take it easy with arranging it all to look pretty?"

Passeri was hardly an interior designer, and she likewise doubted that it was one of the skills that dwelled within Elise's toolkit, but how hard could it have been? She'd bought all of the most vibrant, lovely-looking flowers that she could. That alone would account for half of the work, right?

Right.

"How about we start with getting all of these tables and displays in place, and then when can just pop all of the pots on top of them as we bring them in?" The path of least resistance, she reckoned. "Here-" She hurried herself to the heaviest-looking of all of the displays, and scooped her arms under one end. "-I'll do one end, and you the other. That should be the best way to avoid... What did you call them, blurs? Unless you actually want to be playing nurse, I mean."

Which she doubted, not that it wouldn't have been a bit amusing. A part of her still kind of hung up on the thought of the nurse uniform. She couldn't imagine Elise handing over one of those pain charts with the smiley faces, either.

"Or maybe there's one of those street docs you mention around this area? I guess they wouldn't have the luxury of having a fleet of pretty nurses, though, would they?" Her idle chatter went on as she waited for Elise to get in position. "Must suck for them. They'd have to do all the cleaning themselves too, right? I struggle just to keep my office over at the studio tidy, sometimes, let alone an entire medical practice."

But, then again, she also doubted that anybody was going to bother suing an unlicenced clinic for malpractice.

"Anyway, on three!" Once Elise was ready, she braced herself. Lift with the arms, not the legs. She was pretty sure that was the advice she'd been given, however many years ago. "One... Two... Three!"

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

Hiachi had been made into a light sleeper. Hardly a sleeper at all, actually. The dread that ran up and down her back, through her veins, and plastered itself all over her tiny apartment kept her awake. When she closed her eyes, the shadows on the wall danced synchronously until she opened them again. Naturally, she couldn’t rest with her thoughts running amok. It was a miracle she was getting any sleep at all.

All this was perfect conditioning for her first late-night job.

The knock on the door had jerked her out of her half-asleep stasis instantly. The sound of knuckles on wood jump-started her adrenaline. It had become pavlovian to her.

Hiachi pushed herself off of her mattress to answer the door. Once ajar, she could see who had knocked at such an unusual hour. Hiachi recognized them as one of Lorette’s people. Stoic and unemotive, much like herself on most occasions. She was wordlessly handed a post-it note before they turned her back on her, fading away down the hall as the dull lights crossed over their head.

Corner of Park & Bryn. Silver 2017 Croy Pacto. Package in trunk. Keys under wheel. Discard package before sunrise.


She bit the inside of her cheek as she inspected the note. It seemed unfair that she was forced to complete a job so late at night. But at the same time, Hiachi was aware that turning down jobs was like shooting herself in the foot.

She didn’t bother changing out of the clothes she had been wearing. She simply exited her apartment complex while keeping check of the coordinates. Hiachi didn’t walk outside after dark much, but she found the sensation calming. It was just her and herself, no one around to force her to participate in reality. No harsh sun, just the cool air and the pitch black sky.

Just as the note said, a silver box-like car was parked clumsily on the corner of Park Street and Bryn Avenue. It seemed simple enough. She grabbed the keys, which were under the left hind wheel, and ambled to the trunk. She slotted the key in the back of the vehicle before she lifted the trunk of the car.



With widened eyes, she shut the trunk even quicker than she had opened it. Hiachi stared ahead into space, processing what she had just seen. That couldn’t have been what she thought it was, right?

She opened the trunk again, catching a glimpse of the malformed body that had been jammed into the trunk. If that wasn’t proof enough, then the smell of blood was her flaming gun.

Dead body. She had to dispose of a dead body.

How stupid she felt then. How had she gone this long without even considering that she’d have to deal with a dead person!?

It was horribly ironic that the part of the job that would be easiest on her sanity was, coincidentally, the one thing she couldn’t do. She didn’t know how to drive. But she needed to drive. She didn’t want to touch the body, nor try dragging it around. No backing out now—she had already seen what was in the trunk, and her time was ticking down.

She could figure this out…

…Oh, who the hell was she kidding! She had NO IDEA what to do. She needed help. Or else, come sun-up, the job wasn’t going to be done. And that was more horrific than a dead body.

She needed help, and she had no clue who to call. She opened her phone, well-aware that the contacts that awaited her weren’t going to be any help. Lorette was the one who sent her on the mission. Camila, even if she was awake, couldn’t be bothered to help her with a task from someone else. She was almost 100% sure that someone like Sylvie wouldn’t bother themselves with dirty work. Most tigers were like that, if most tigers weren’t debt-ridden like her. None of it helped.

...Well. Almost none; There was one contact left.

She nearly forgot where she had gotten it. But she had been advised to get contacts from the bulletin board in the tiger headquarters. Hiachi didn’t write down a name, but she was half-certain that the contact had been for tough work. Muscle for hire. Something of that nature.

Did she have the money to pay off someone for help? Absolutely not. But the potential consequences of leaving this job unfinished were more haunting than more debt on top of the debt she already had.

She hesitated for a long minute before hitting call.


 
Deirest
SCENE:
The Murder Above The Coffin
TIME:
June 8th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Wherever Dregs Pool, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Areith, Deirest
The Murder Above The Coffin
There. Heedless of the shadows that surrounded her, Deirest kneaded her fingers against one another. She could still feel it. The impression of it. It had been right there, at the tip of her fingers. Flecks of dried blood and grime fell from between her fingertips.

These things. Their noises and shapes. They were wrong- Not what she was looking for, not what she needed. Not what she'd lost.

She kept walking.

There it was. In the sky. Still, still. Looming, so tiny, but it was all that she could see. The only thing that she had eyes for. The Moon, The Moon.

The what?

"That." She stopped in her tracks, just before she broke the Cloaks' inky perimeter. One of her bloody digits extended towards the sky. Up at that thing. The first that she'd remembered. "You. How...? I need to go there." She spoke to the nearest of the Cloaks. A bundle of the black fabric that obscured them from the world wormed its way between her fingertips.

"I need to." It was up there. It. "Tell me. I need to." What came out of her mouth were growls, more than words, and yet the desperation still ebbed through. Where she lacked life, she instead brimmed with want. Want she wore under the name of Need.

"Tell me." And then the growls were taught anger. Malice. What she'd felt in the alley. That same fire of denial burned beneath her, turning her blood hot and hateful.

"Tell me." She gripped down tighter on the bundle of robe. Her eyes left the Moon. It was so far away. She could hardly see it. But she could see them. Standing. Over her. In her way. Shadows which cast shadows still, bleak and harsh within the silver gossamer of the Moonlit night.

Distracting. Distractions. Away, her eyes went. Filling her ears. Taking her away from what was important. Hiding it from her.

"TELL. ME." Her other hand flew to the Cloak's collar. The smell of plaque and bile dripped from her lips as she drew them close, struggling to peer through the black void cast by their cowl. This close, the bags that lined her eyes cast shadows of their own, lining them like pits.

"NOW." Inside her eyes, the sparks of her frenzy had started to flicker again. "NOW NOW. TELL ME. NOW."

She gripped tighter. Like a vice. She clamped down on their arm, and squeezed. Harder and harder. Until they told her what she wanted to know.

thebigfella thebigfella
 
Musai
SCENE:
Dine Death
LOCATION:
Shopping Mall, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Dine Death

Musai, still recovering from the water ordeal, manages to compose himself. "Damn, Raq, you trying to kill me with that water? I thought we were partners in crime, not partners in attempted murder." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, giving her a mock glare before breaking into a grin.

"As for the food, I'll take that as a challenge!" Musai declares with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He starts shoveling the remaining food into his mouth with newfound determination, determined to prove that he's not one to back down from a challenge, even if it involves stuffing his face.

Between the bites, he manages to talk, "And about our target, if she's got a bunch of bodyguards, well, that just makes things more interesting, doesn't it? More to savor, more to enjoy." Musai winks, though it's unclear whether he's talking about the job or the potential chaos it might bring.

As the minutes tick away, he picks up the pace, finishing off his plate with gusto. "Almost there, Raq, almost there. You underestimate the power of a man fueled by the desire for free food and the thrill of a good heist!" He grins, reaching for the soda she slid over to him. Musai takes a triumphant sip before looking up at her, his mouth still half-full. "Ready when you are, partner in crime. Lead the way!"

[/border
Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
[A Helping Hand]
TIME:
Sunrise, January 10 2022, Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Kazue
A HELPING HAND
His extended fingertips flinched faintly in reaction to the approaching Kazue. He had made his decision to trust her, even considering the risk he was taking by doing such a thing. As early as an hour ago, he earned new information, that even the so-called honorable Dragons were not above opting for dirty tactics. And objectively speaking, who was to say the girl was out of such picture? But alas, naive as he may be at times, Charlie was confident for once, he was going to let her take care of him.

"What do you mean something be-HAH?" His eyes almost popped out of their pocket as energy sprouted from the girl's fingertips, an angelic radiance that warmly contrasted against the cold and unwelcoming winter landscape. Kazue might have noticed that for a fraction of a second, the phoenix's arm recoiled, like a finger after touching a recently-used stove. But when he quickly noticed no sort of pain from it, the muscles relaxed, the limb submitting itself to whatever process it might be going through.

Baffled, he stared wide-eyed at his now recovered arm, his pupils tracing the length of forearm where a gnarly wound previously called its home, not even the smallest hint of a scar in it. Patting different parts of his body, from his thighs to his chest or his shoulders, he examined how his body found itself healed in its entirety. He skipped towards Kazue with great speed, grabbing a hold of her hands before she could react.

"Thank you so much! This is incredible!" He enthusiastically shook both of the girl's hands with his own, swinging them up and down in an exaggerated manner. "I don't know how I could repay you" She might have been a dragon, but as an individual, he didn't only not have anything against the girl, a favor is a favor no matter your association. He broke the handshake, taking a step back and smiling and her. "...I know this is sudden but I think I should get going now" The tone of his voice returned to normal, if not even sounding a few decivels sadder. "They're probably still looking for me, it's still not safe...But I should be able to make it now thanks to you" He placed a under his chin, rubbing it in though. "I just need to find my way out"


azenva azenva
 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Spotting the Wingless
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Nighttime,Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Jozeph, Celeste, Nona-Me, Keith
Spotting the Wingless
The hunter's arrow striked true, streaks of vermillion coming from the serpent rewarding Keith's accuracy, another fresh batch of blood now coated the silver claws that adorned the gnarly limb. With a furrowed brow, the carmine dragon snarled at the sight of the serpent's healing. It was one thing for the vile scum to fight back, it was only natural for prey to fight back when all other choices where off the table. But to be able to heal, undoing the just smiting he delivered upon the fiends? That disgusted and infuriated Keith down to his very core. And once again, the words that came from him only served to enrage him further.

"Friends...Keep them safe, you say?" The dragon bared his teeth against the grappling serpent, naively trying to hurt him. Not only were their physiques leagues apart, but the blonde one also lacked the proper bloodlust and belligerence to truly want to hurt. "Don't make me laugh!" Grabbing onto the other's knife-wielding hand by the wrist, Keith shoved his head forward, his forehead landing with the serpent's for a clean hit. "As if serpents could ever really care for each other! All you care for is making others miserable on a whim" Powering through the pain, Keith closed the fist of his injured hand, throwing a jab at the blonde one's face. "And if you actually do, then you're in the wrong crowd"

Looking past the boy in front of him, Keith could see that No Name was already on the offensive, seeking a fight of her own with the serpent called Flea. It gave him a good scare when he noticed the silver-haired amazoness joining the fray, almost to the point of leaving his own opponent aside to help his friend out "No Name, look out!". But the rushing aid of the other dragons allowed him to let out a sigh of relief. Re-focusing on the blonde one, the rookie lifted him off the ground, throwing him down the alley, at the opposite direction to the rest of the group. Best thing he could do right now was to single out the one that could push back their progress.

gxxberkit gxxberkit @FangS31 @angel doe
 

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