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

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MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Splash of Plight
LOCATION:
5:26 PM | June 7, Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
South District, Art Studio
PARTICIPANTS:
Matsuda, Milo
SPLASH OF PLIGHT

Milo's eyes glided over the contours of the model's physique. Every line, every curve, and every muscle told a story.

He had begun his piece by capturing the essence of the model's stance. The weight distribution, the tension in the limbs, the flexing of the muscles... It had all started with a simple line to denote the spine. This line, Milo knew well, would be his guiding light, his North Star, ensuring that every part was in harmony with the whole.

Softly, the artist's fingers moved the pencil over the canvas, sketching the faintest outline of the man's ribcage, hips, and limbs. More guidelines, guard rails. He was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for his future self to follow, when the time came to paint. An old habit.

This was just a sketch class.

Still good practice, he thought.

With the basic frame in place, Milo moved to capture the broader shapes. The bulge of the biceps, the tapering of the waist, the broadness of the shoulders – he used gentle, sweeping lines, respecting the form and fluidity of the human body.

When it came to the expression, Milo's own hardened with concentration. This part of every piece always demanded the artist's utmost attention. It wasn’t just about technical accuracy—about the way the shadows fell over the model's brow, how the light played upon skin, or even how the lightest sheen of sweat glistened over an intricate network of veins—but about capturing the spirit and emotion of the person on display. The art had to embody that special something that all good pieces of art had, which was always hard to explain and almost impossible to teach. In a word: life.

Life, Milo found, lived most naturally within the eyes and the hands.

He made the eyes alive.

He made the hands alive.

It was very, very good.

Leaning back on his stool, Milo took a moment, flitting his eyes from the model on the dais, to the one on his canvas, ensuring he conveyed not just the form, but the feeling. What did he feel?

Suddenly, Milo felt a presence near him. He glanced over to find Matsuda looking over at him. "Ah," he said, cheeks suddenly and inexplicably hot with embarrassment. Milo never liked to show a piece before it was finished... And yet, perhaps he'd forgotten why they'd come here together in the first place?

"How's it going?" Milo asked, about the sketch, and... About other things, too. He figured his double meaning would be received, but his gaze turned knowing—peering down the bridge of his glasses at one of his oldest, dearest friends—just in case.


 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Ours and Ours Alone
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 20th 2022
LOCATION:
The Vanishing Lot, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Eric, Sebastian, Hiachi, Tak, Dante, Kisara
Ours and Ours Alone
"Oh. Hey there." A flat affect greeted the pair of officers. It wasn't a surprise to see Eric here, though if it was, then it wouldn't have been an entirely pleasant one. It was no fault of the officer's own, nor his tagalong's. Passeri's usual sunniness was not with her. There was no room for niceties today.

"Crazy, huh? I walked out of the studio just the other night, and now..." The empty air hung over her. Where she sat, she could've once peered into the lunchroom. A stainless steel fridge, flanked by a snack bar and microwave. That was what the window had framed.

"Dunno what they filled you in on, but take a took at this-" She uncrumpled the ticket, and handed it to the officers. "-So I've just been sitting here."

Waiting.

Tick. Tick.

~~~​

Blanketed in stillness, Our Dream Studios floated in the void. There was nothing beyond its walls. Windows into windows, and doorways into doorways. Liberated from the world, drab hallways spun into finite infinities. They went on for miles, but only into themselves.

Deep below, down stairways that penetrated the once-Earth, a crowd trembled. A single, firm voice spoke over them all, issuing instructions as if all were normal. Up above, an erratic pace tread back and forth over floors which had never been. Fifty-seven, fifty-six, fifty-five. A different voice, shrill and trembling, counted down. Hours by minutes by seconds. Soon, it promised itself. Soon, it promised another. They had to wait. These were blessed grounds, that they stood upon. They had to do this right.

Forty-four.

Thirty-three.

Twenty-two.

Eleven.

Zero.

The schism closed. A set of polished, glass doors clicked, and a window between what was and what was not swung wide. Fresh air flowed into the studio for the first time in what felt like years. Invisible spotlights filled the halls, and a silent crowd cheered. It was showtime.

~~~​

16:45. The skin of the world split.

Passeri struggled to make sense of what she was looking at. The studio had not returned. Of course it hadn't. Nothing could ever be easy, at least not in this city. But, still, she could see it. Like a hole in the air. A glitch in the matrix.

The front door had returned. Framed by nothing, yet standing upright and firm, a set of glass doors sat bold. The sun gleamed on their surface, and through them, the familiar sight of the studio's lobby lay. The meticulously vacuumed carpet, and the coffee stain that remained there despite it all. A flight of stairs, flanked by a hall meandering off in either direction. It was impossible, but it was no illusion. She knew what she was looking at. She'd seen it hundreds of times before.

She rose from her seat.

Tick. Tick.

There was no telling how long this would last.

"I'm going in." She stated bluntly. There were others she'd been expecting, a face she'd invited out of courtesy, but she didn't have any time to waste. A rare set of shadows lined her eyes. All night and day, she'd waited. They could catch up.

The doorknob felt cold in her hand, the usual familiar, steely warmth that in radiated drowned out about the alienness of the situation. But still, the doors swung open all the same. A hitch halfway. A squeak as they went. It was all the way it was supposed to be, save for the part where they violated every physical law imaginable.

"Hello...?" Passeri called out as she stepped into the lobby. Her voice echoed, and the air felt cold against her skin. Those were the first things that felt wrong. Bathed in the afternoon sun, the studio's lobby had always been warm and inviting, and while the building was nothing to sneeze at, it had never been grand enough to earn an echo.

There was something else familiar about this, gnawing at the back of her mind.

"Everything looks normal, but..." She spoke over her shoulder, and through the front door at whoever was following. "...Not. Does that make sense? There's something off."

Down the hall, up a set of stairs, and folded between two hallways which had never been tread upon, a set of eyes greedily watched a security feed.

"Ahh..." Black-painted, gnawed nails caressed the screen. "Finally... Hiii..." Nibble-nibble. They pulled away, and went straight between rows of pearly-white teeth. "Okay. Okay. Just a little more... Soon..."

Another presence in the room stirred impatiently.

"Soon, I said! Wait... Trust me... I got us- Got us this far, didn't I?" Their hand, still wet, went to another. "Trust me, trust me... It's not my first time. It'll be okay. Trust me..."

Tick. Tick.

 
Last edited:
Matsuda Russo
SCENE:
Caught BACKHANDED
TIME:
6:13 PM | September 14, Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
West District, Abandoned Building
PARTICIPANTS:
Matsuda, Sebastian
Caught BACKHANDED
Matsuda could only blink in shock, his eyes wide with stunned silence. A 'plop' sounded as the duffle was dropped, a cloud of dust in it's wake. What...had he just walked into? He eyed the stranger from head to toe, his fear building steadily as his gaze was filled with red. His clothes were soaked crimson, his skin splattered with patches of dripping blood, and the smell. God- the scent of copper filled the air in the enclosed room, nearly seeming like it was embedded into the walls and floor.

The black haired man could feel his heart ricocheting in his ribcage, panic making his breathing unsteady. He blinked, suddenly realizing he was in the presence of a fucking murderer. His satchel slipped from his shoulder as he frantically rifled through it to find his weapon.

Before he could do so however, he heard footsteps from outside the room. Matsu froze, hearing the voice of a person calling out- no doubt a cop.

"Hello? Anyone in here?"

Matsuda spun around, quickly shutting the door, moving to hide on the other side of the door, his back pressed to the wall. At being alarmed from the cop, he had completely forgotten he was right in front of a blood fresh killer! And the heterochromic eyed man just shut himself in a room with him... Matsu looked to the green eyed man, swallowing nervously, before raising a finger to his own lips, signaling for him to stay quiet. Killer or not- it would only look bad for Matsuda to be seen with this man, a duffle full of an unbelievable amount of cash on the floor...


 
SCENE:
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Keith, Tak, Kisara
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection

Distraction was a weakness. It was wise to excise all forms of distraction when it came to a fight. Her opponent would need to learn this first hand, just as she did. She gnashed her teeth, and threw her head back. The violent energy that gathered inside her throat and her mouth stung like it was the first time she had done this. She was still weakened by her time in the hospital, but she could not afford this excuse. She could sense it, she could see it in her opponent's eyes. He would not let her go until either of them was dead. She respected that. She had that much to give, at the very least. Very few others she had faced before had that fire in their eyes.

So, as it were, it was up to her to prove who had the stronger will. It would not be him. A foot shifted forwards, in preparation to brace herself for the upcoming blast. She lowered her head, and opened up her jaw. The unearthly violet stream of energy blasted forth, its shrill, shrieking cry screeching across their little arena. Its initial burn missed, but no matter, she turned her head, drawing the shrieking beam straight towards her opponent and his conversation partner, carving a wide gash across the wall behind them as it approached.

The game was over. She would no longer be playing soft. It was do or die. He would be the first step towards her goals.



thebigfella thebigfella Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
You Know The Rules, And So Do I
LOCATION:
Some Park, Central District
TIME:
Post Arc 3 || July 1st 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Eric
YOU KNOW THE RULES, AND SO DO I
The streets of central were painted black, as revolving tires screeched loudly against gritty asphalt, a police patrol car skillfully dashing and drifting through the many twists and turns of the urban concrete maze. Once again, by the twisted turns of fate, Detective Evensen found himself as the nearest available man for the job. Numerous calls from terrified civilians spoke of an extremely violent altercation between HPs taking place over at a nearby park. As a milk-flavored candy rolled around his mouth, the detective could not help but notice just how active his life had become in the last few months, even moreso in the last one. Perhaps it was just one big coincidence, evildoers often had quite the habit of curious timing. Or perhaps it was a sign of more dire ordeals to come in the future, a natural escalation of events leading to some grand disaster, all puppeteered by some incomprehensible cosmic entity. Or maybe he was just overthinking things, would not have been the first time.

The car's engine went silent as it stood next to the park. Looking around, Eric noticed that only a few civilians remained in the area, and even then kept ample distance between themselves and what could be assumed to be the eye of the storm. Eric himself wasted no time getting out of the car and rushing towards the innermost area of the park, desperation and anxiety dramatically painted over his utterly emotionless gaze.

Well, the calls were no bluff or understatement. The scenario that welcomed Eric was one of utter ruthlesness and turmoil. A single figure standing tall against multiple corpses of unknown nature. The detective found himself unphased by the sight, one all too unfortunately familiar to a lawkeeper trying to enforce peace in this cursed city.

Hector would have been able to hear a familiar sound of explosions followed by whistles in the distance. Turning his back would also find him expectating a show of fireworks of different colors and patterns, strong and bright enough to be made clear even in daylight. Below was a single man in suit with his open hands up, the pyrotechnics emerging from his fingertips like luminescent droplets that defied gravity.

"Well, if it isn't Pharaoh, in the flesh" His smooth voice carried no hint of animosity. "So lovely to see you again" He stopped the fireworks, bringing one hand to his hip and the other one to the side of his forehead, his index and middle finger unfurled and straight. "Missed me?" He said as he gave a playful two-finger salute, a golden star-shaped light coming out of his fingertips at the end of the motion, spinning a few times before exploding into sparkles.

WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold
LOCATION:
Central
DATE:
July 12, 2013
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

She backed away from the finger that pointed at her. This boy had a serious problem with personal space. Most people did, but most people did not run around with sticks and capes. She frowned slightly, her expression finally tipping over into a perceivable emotion: annoyance.

This kid was wrong about everything. Girl heroes existed, Hiachi knew that for a fact. There were two girl heroes in that show Kenki and Rikunori liked to watch! Why would they have girl heroes if girl heroes didn’t exist? Check and mate.

AND he thought she was lying? About being good at the shooting game!? Hiachi would have been mad if she wasn’t as confident as she was in herself. She had never lost at the shooting game.

She looked at him blankly, but in her heart self-satisfaction swelled. He was about to get proven SO wrong.

“Ok. I will prove it. Right now.”

The shooting game wasn’t that far from where they were. The orange tent that resided over the station was easy to spot. She marched over to the game, chomping down on the last bit of her takoyaki.

She approached the vendor with her four coins already in hand. The vendor, shifting a half-chewn lollipop around his mouth, took the handful and set up the game. A large sheet of paper behind a wooden wall of star cutouts. By the end, however many star-shaped holes she shot through would determine her score.

When Hiachi picked up the toy gun, she instantly noticed the difference. The gun was lighter. Made of plastic, like a toy. In years prior, the vendor had set up very real looking pistols, rigged to shoot compact styrofoam spheres instead of bullets. The gun fit clumsily in her tiny arms, especially with the kimono sleeves. Just a bit larger; a bit too much.

She tried to aim and fire anyway. Hiachi had her own strategy—start at the corners, and slowly move inwards.She looked at the target, lining the barrel up with her sharp line of sight before firing. Only, the bullet hadn’t landed on a sheet of paper. It hit the bottom of the wooden panel with a dull thunk. Her assessment had been wildly off.

As dumbfounded as she was, she had to keep going. She tried to adjust to the angle at which the little bullets flew, but she was always slightly off.

Her total score? 200. It was a big number, ignoring the fact that there were a total of 2500 points to gain. Especially when she had gotten all 2500 points last time. The score was so bad, there wasn’t even a pity prize for it. She was walking away with a lighter coin purse.

Her reddening cheeks puffed up in annoyance. Now she wasn’t just miffed she did bad, she had just made a fool of herself! She looked like a liar.

“…That was just bad luck! Bad luck on the first try!”

Is what she said, but her eyes were like quivering glass. Had she really lost her touch?

She shook her head wildly, like the doubt would be thrashed away from her hair. She had to try again! She still had money left. She dug through her pouch for another set of four coins, which she handed to the vendor with more conviction than she had before.

The game’s paper backing was reset. She aimed at the stars—any of them, at this point—and still kept missing. Even as she hit some stars, she was barely making any dents. Was she holding the gun wrong? Was her aim getting worse?

500 points. It still paled in comparison to her past high score. She had to try again.

Hiachi handed the vendor another four coins…

…another four…

ANOTHER four…

…The pattern continued until Hiachi stuck her hand in the pouch for the fifth time. Her hand met a pad of knitted yarn. Her eyes darted to the bottom of her coin purse. Nothing but woolen pills and tiny specks of dust.

Nothing. She had NOTHING left.

She stared blankly into space. That was all of Hiachi’s allowance. She had spent all of it within the span of ten minutes. Coins that she had earned for looking after her neighbor’s cat, coins she had gotten off the playground, coins she had swiped from the change tray before her mom could notice. Coins she had been saving up so she could buy that green panda stuffed animal from the drugstore on the corner of her street.

Upon realizing the weight of her lapse in judgment, tucked herself into a little ball and planted herself directly in front of the stand. She was silent but unmoving, like an old tree. The game vendor coughed into his fist, trying to look everywhere but Hiachi. He was only now starting to feel bad about running a nine-year-old for all of her money. Feeling the judgemental eyes of passersby settle on his awkward figure, he leaned forward to address Tak. “Uh… Is your friend okay?”




 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Just Sweet Enough
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Yong-Yut
JUST SWEET ENOUGH

Hector laughed at her comment. "Hey, what makes you think you can talk to me like that? I've killed people for less." It may have been said in a joking manner, but he wasn't lying. It wasn't Yong-Yut he was threatening though, he had intentionally raised his voice so all the gawkers could hear. He could tell she wasn't happy with the nosiness of the other patrons, so he added, "Those idiots will look away and mind their fucking business if they know what's good for them." That did the trick.

In the flip of a switch, he was back to casual Hector, lowering his voice now to have a proper conversation. "Hey, I appreciate it. You and some others really helped me get out of my funk. Can't say everything's all good now though, I've still got plenty on my plate. But hey, I've got the time to order ice cream for you, so things are looking up. You have a good birthday? I don't really know what kinda thing you'd usually do. You owe me like," he counted quickly on his fingers, "plenty of birthday invites from all the times you've snubbed me. Where are they?" In case they thought he was serious, he waved his hands in a 'calm down' motion. "Just messing with ya. But I still wanna know what you've been up to."
 
Dante Aguilar
CS Link
SCENE:
B T S I T R U M Y M T O
TIME:
April 19th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
A Bar in Central District
INTERACTIONS:
Tak, Hiachi, Dante
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means You're Missing The Obvious

Hiachi’s mood seemed as subtle as a sledgehammer.

Her spirits light and floaty like a bag of bricks coming down a skyscraper— it wasn’t necessarily a thing of tact, she just had it written in her eyes. At all times. She was either tired or just plain didn’t want to be here. He’d never seen an in-between of those two sentiments plastered on her face.

With the way Tak had looked back at her, almost surprised that she was still there, Dante was starting to believe that today was the latter.

His eyes flicked down to the feeling of a logy bump flatten on his fist. Sharing glances between Hiachi’s jaded eyes and back down to his closed fist hovering dead still. He stared at it for a while, an awkward long, idle while. Longer than it should’ve been. Dante threw his arm back, like the lag of the fistbump had just caught up to him, mouthed a quiet and shameless — “Pshheewww….!” — With the straightest face he could muster.

It was fun to try and mess with her, see if her expression ever changed from the usual.

He brought that explosive fistbump all the way behind him, hiding the elbow behind his back before he turned to Tak — “There aren’t any scenic routes, bitch.” — He clarified, hard emphasis on the ‘bitch.’

“Fuck am I gonna do? Stare at concrete and watch all the homeless bums sleeping on the sidewalk?” — If the cityscape was something of a neo-modern think piece, regurgitated out of the bowels of a pretentious, pseudo-intellectual art-fuck— wailing and crying about their chiaroscuros and the chasmic meanings of their “work” (Or someone Dante still hated back from art school)— then, maybe, the routes really were scenic.

Or maybe Tak was just seeing something he couldn’t. An eye for the arts, as some would call it. He had a different name for it, started with ‘Mental’ and it ended with a double ‘S’.

“Firepower?” — An eyebrow ticked; his mouth split into a twitchy grin. It was always something with this guy, wasn’t it? — “Uh-huh…Sure. Whatever that means.” — The focused glint in Tak’s eye didn’t help to ease his nerves.

Once they’d swung the door open, they were wound up tight. Tight enough to play a sonata with them. The silence that settled in was deafening; he quirked a brow up at the clink of leather boots drawing near.

Eyes already wandering the room, on instinct, looking for the nearest light-switch — “The fuck did I just get into…?” — The tension hit the roof, he felt it bumping at his throat, and then. . .

“Melvin mac..—PFFFT….!" — The tension fell, slammed face-first into the floor — “Kh—Oh s-shit…” — He had to cup a hand over his mouth to hold those snickers from becoming full-on bouts of laughter. He would’ve been rolling on the floor laughing his ass off if it weren’t for all the people staring daggers at them

This cowboy in front of them wasn’t a real human being. He couldn’t be. There was just no way in hell.

“Nah, just give up, no-nuffin numskull. You ain’t built for trivia night.” — He sneered. It was getting harder and harder to keep a straight face — “Y’can keep the seats if you want, already paid my drink.” — He chuckled, turning to the door just as Hiachi did — “Later, man.”

“Hitching some wheels or what?”
— Dante snatched his car keys out of his pocket, looped them over his ring finger and flicked a quick spin. He gave Hiachi a quick look — “It’s pretty damn late…” — Tak and MacClain had slipped his mind entirely.

He wondered how busy the traffic would end up being on the way back home tonight. . .



thebigfella thebigfella miki miki
 
Last edited:
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means Your Missing The Obvious
LOCATION:
West District
DATE:
April 19th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi ( miki miki ), Dante ( Haze- Haze- )
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means Your Missing The Obvious

With the debut of his ‘secret weapons,’ Tak wore all the confidence that this game was in the bag, evident by the smirk on his face as he looked towards Melvin Mcclain, but as he did, all he saw was the cowboy threatening to break into a guffaw, his face poorly holding back from breaking out into full-blown laughter as he pointed past Tak.

“Looks like your secret weapons are leavin’, feller.”

Tak’s head snapped backward so sharply that his neck visibly crunched, and his flesh spun like a screw, darkness overshadowing his eyes as a red glint flashed within the shadows. In a blur, he had suddenly run in front of Hiachi and Dante as they tried to leave, smoke coming off his heels as a gust of wind blew across them both from the sudden stop of his acceleration, standing in front of them both with bloodshot eyes, his pupils dilated and shaking like he was crazed, half-about to start foaming from the mouth.


“Where the hell do you think you two are going, huh? I decide to do one nice thing in my life and offer to take you two out and foot the bill, and you decide to ditch me?” He spoke with venom, his fingers flexing as veins protruded from his digits, clearly holding back the urge to reach out and grasp them both.

“You got nothin’ better to do anyway, don’t you!? All you’d be doing is sitting around in your apartments withering away, so we should hang out as friends, isn’t it?! What’s wrong with me deciding to be such a nice guy and bring you guys just to play some trivia, huh!?” He continued to ramble on about how nice and kind he was for tricking them into participating in his self-motivated grudge against trivia, shameless as ever.


“HEEEHEEHAW! I can’t be surprised they’re runnin’ away like a couple yellowbellies!”

A southern accident broke the focus away from the trio, Tak turning his focus away from them to look towards the bar. Melvin had already decided to sit at a booth, putting his boots onto the table as he sipped a bottle of beer, his hat tipped over his face.

“If they’re friends’ o yours, they’re probably just as dumb as you! They knew they didn’t stand a chance against a trivia aficionado such as ma’self.” The cowboy gloated, taking a swing of his beer.

“Ain’t no shame in that. They ain’t the first to run away. It won’t be the last. Some people don’t know nuffin’, and that’s okay! Idiots make the world go ’round!”

Tak’s teeth visibly ground together, chunks of bone flying off as they looked like they were about to crack. It looked like his eyes were about to spark in a flame as he looked at Melvin Mcclain, “You bastard…” Tak cursed, clenching his fists as he looked enraged, seconds away from going over and punching the portly man. Had he really taken the insults against Dante and Hiachi that personally, that was willing to defend them?

“What the hell do you mean dumb as me!? You tryin’ to say somethin’!?” Tak shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger in the direction of the man as he stepped forward past Hiachi and Dante.

Unsurprisingly, that was the only thing he cared about.

If Dante and Hiachi wanted to protect their pride, Tak wouldn’t be the one to do it for them, that was for sure.

 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Lady Madonna
LOCATION:
June 24th, 2022 | Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Our ✰ Dream Soup Kitchen, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Passeri
Lady Madonna
"Wonder if the line's gonna be act-" The detective could not even BEGIN to make patient small talk before a twitchy figure presented themselves, the first of many to demand their due serving of sustenance. "Well just how can I say no to a fella asking so nicely" Something about this person...they reeked of trouble. Nothing served as blatant evidence of such suspicion, but work nine years in the force stopping troublemakers, and you develop an eye for telling the chaotic ones apart. Almost to the point the Detective having his interrogative impulses take a hold.

But today he was no detective. Unless people were setting things on fire or running around guns blazing, he had little reason to flash the badge today.

Protruding a single knuckle from his fist, Eric hit the bottom of the person's bowl, right in the gap between the hands holding it. As it fell, he catched it, flicking it and using the momentum to spin it. He held it there, rotating fast over his index fingertip. Once it mostly stopped, he let it rest on his palm, before serving a couple of heftly ladlespoons into it. "Got you a gizzard there for being the first, enjoy, buddy" He proclaimed, holding the fresh, piping-hot bowl for them to grab.


The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit gxxberkit gxxberkit
 
Takakazu Shishido
CS Link
SCENE:
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold
LOCATION:
Central District
DATE:
July 12, 2013
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi ( miki miki )
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

Weaving through the crowds, the orange lights of the lanterns strung on ropes above them basked down as the pair made their way toward the shooting game. The hero kept himself close to the girl, avoiding the legs of adults and teenagers who were much more enamored with whatever was going on in their tall world above. His eyes weren’t visible behind the red lenses of his mask, but his attention maneuvered through the mob of people to look at the other things on their way to their destination. Familiar skill games, whether it be candy carving or goldfish scooping, enticed him, the loud shouting of men advertising their taiyaki and yakitori paired with the smells emanating through the air that reminded him he hadn’t had anything to eat yet.

His body felt light as he prepared to swivel off in another direction to where his mind and stomach were leading him, but just before he could drift off in some other direction, he was reminded of the task at hand, glancing at the girl over his shoulder.

Even though he had only come with her just to see her put her money where her mouth was, he saw many other kids with their friends or siblings enjoying the festival with others as he glanced around.

He was the only person who was here alone. His mom was too busy to come with him, leading him to sneak out alone like he had done for the past 3 years.

This was the first time he was actually walking around with someone else.

It was a weird feeling.

A frown of uncertainty graced his face as he was silent until they reached the shooting game. The hero looked up at the prizes hung above and the others lining the back wall of the small booth, seeing the scores attached to their numbers, trying to figure out which one he thought the girl would go for, turning his head back over to look at her as she got the gun into her hands, a slight tilt of confusion.

It was much different from the ones he had seen before, flimsy plastic, like a bargain bin toy, he was somewhat disappointed. The feeling of holding something more akin to a real gun was much cooler, but all he could do was pout and watch as she began.

He stood silent, watching as her shots missed. Every time, even though she aimed down with concentration, they’d veer off. From watching how she did it, he could tell it wasn’t her mistake; she clearly had experience with the game but barely could land a shot.

He was confused, a confusion that continued in muteness as the pile of coins on the counter grew, and more and more wooden plinks hit his ears as the shots missed. Her pouch became lighter until nothing was left but a home for flies.

He stood on the sidelines, watching as the girl curled up into a ball on the ground, keeping her head towards the floor to look away from everything. Just looking at her made butterflies dance in his stomach. Even though he talked about wanting to prove her wrong, seeing it happen brought him no satisfaction.

Something needed to be done.

“Hey, old man,” He said to the store owner, sticking his hands into his pockets. He felt around his pocket the tiny bit of coins on him, not even enough to jingle, as he fingered out four into his palm; he formed them into a neat little patty between his index and thumb before placing them onto the counter in front of him.

The man looked at him briefly, perplexed, blinking as the stick of his lollipop hung limply out of his mouth, but he shrugged it off, handing him the gun.

As soon as it was close in his hands, and the man thought he had a good grip on it, he let it go, letting it clatter against the hard floor, “Oh crap!” He exclaimed, quickly bending down to pick it up. But, he used this small moment from the vendor’s site to look at the gun. Immediately, he could pick up the problem. It was not Hiachi’s aim; she wasn’t holding the gun wrong.

A minor modification had been made to it, holes drilled into the barrel, allowing air to escape through both sides, changing the power of the shot and its aim.

She had been scammed.

His teeth grit in anger, it was his job as a hero to set this right. His hand quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of gum wrapped up in its wrapper he hadn’t had a chance to throw away yet. He pulled it apart into halves, using it to plug up the tiny holes.

And with that, he raised back up with the gun in hand, reaching around to grip the trigger and hold it steady, resting it under his shoulder to aim down sight.

And with a pop, the first paper star fell dead center.

There was no reaction from the vendor at first, but as more and more stars were torn apart from the paper bullets, his eyes started to grow wider, his lollipop threatening to fall out of his mouth as it hung open.


And then, with one final pop, the last star was shredded.

Placing the gun back onto the table, rubbed under his nose with confidence as he smirked up at the man, “Looks like I win!” he gloated. The vendor stared at him briefly, pondering how lucky he was. But it didn’t matter, considering how much he just got from the girl; it didn’t matter if he gave away one prize. All he needed to do was put more holes into the gun.

“Alright, kid, what do you want?” He asked the boy with a smile, hiding any ill intentions at who he presumed was an innocent little kid. With a grin, he rose up on his tippy toes to point at the giant, pink stuffed cat behind him and hung up with an ice cream cone on its head like a unicorn.

Nodding, the man turned around, reaching up to pick the plush off the hook it was hung on, “Here you go--”

When he turned back around, neither of the kids were there.

They had disappeared, along with their stack of coins.

The man’s nails clenched into the stuffed toy, pulling on it tightly as if he were about to rip it apart.





He held Hiachi’s hand, dragging her through the crowd, breathing heavily as he forced her to dash away. His pockets were singing loudly with coins as they made their escape. Abruptly, he turned a corner, pulling them both away from the swarm of people and into a secluded spot near a fountain as the blue moonlight replaced the orange lightning.

“I think…this is far enough!” He spat out his words between labored breaths, letting the girl’s hand go as he bent down and supported himself with his arms on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

The sounds of crickets acted as the backdrop, along with the faint sounds of splashing water from the fountain behind them. A moment of silence before The hero stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out the giant pile of coins, not even bothering to pick out the few he had as he offered them Hiachi, a grin on his face.

“Here ya go. These are yours.”

 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
BTSITRUMYMTO
LOCATION:
A Bar in Central District
DATE:
April 19th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Dante
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means You're Missing The Obvious

Maybe she would go with Dante. It was dark, and with their solidarity amongst the absurd, she wouldn’t feel bad asking for that favor.

Her back was turned to Tak, but she already knew what his reaction would be. Her sideways glance proved her correct—he was pissed off, in a comical sense. His verbal jabs didn’t hurt. She did fully intend on going back to her apartment and withering away some more. She took no issue with it, so why would that move her?

Still, he seemed fully convinced that deceiving her into thinking that tonight was something serious was an act of benevolence. She had to wonder: how did he mask his boisterous personality behind that manufactured sincerity? And more importantly, how had she been fooled by it, even for a second?

He hadn’t moved her, because she could refute everything he said to herself. She had plenty better to do than be tricked into saving his ass in a trivia match. Whenever the trio came together, disaster struck. Tak was a menace for doing this to her, and she should never trust that the man had no ulterior motives.

It all weighed lightly on her mind. Getting away from the prying eyes, sleeping peacefully knowing she had been right to suspect this would be a waste of time—it wasn’t ideal, but it was a hell of a lot better than worrying about nothing.

It was all very simple until that guy started talking. What was his name again? McCane? McCalaster? Something like that.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Not to get a better look, of course. She really just wanted to reduce the amount of sight she was giving him. His flesh swelled around thin bones, his stature the fault of gluttony and gluttony alone. Obnoxious and proud without any right to be. What kind of right did he have to address her like she wasn’t even there? He was the one sitting in a seedy bar about to play trivia, not her. He was even wearing a cowboy hat. What a clown.

What was one more person? One more person convinced that she was street trash? It was what everyone thought, anyway. Who couldn’t upon seeing her? Seeing where she lived? It didn’t matter. As long as she knew the truth, everything was fine.





Naturally, Tak wasn’t about to defend her honor. Nor Dante’s; he was only offended by the suggestion that his intelligence was the basis for stupidity. He was just like that.

Hiachi sighed, well aware of two truths: this was a ridiculous event that she was going to deeply regret participating in, and she wasn’t going to be able to sleep if she kept thinking about her pride.

“Come on. I’ll do your stupid trivia.” As she sighed, she looked to Dante. She suspected he was a far more level-headed person than her. She looked insane and she knew it. Still, a condolence would be nice.


 
YELENA
SCENE:
Ice Breakers
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — June 25th, 2022
LOCATION:
CDPD HQ, 2nd-floor Break Room
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian, Chikage, Kyoden, Jean, Tatsuo, Yelena, Inigo, Eric, Kyoden, Yelena
ICE BREAKERS
Yelena strode apace with Kyoden and Chikage, her demeanor relaxed.

"Must I? Who knows.” She said and smiled at Sebastian knowingly, but scribbled something on a slip of paper and tossed it into the hat anyway as she made her way to an unoccupied corner of sofa. She crossed her legs, folded her arms, and waited patiently for... Something. For a moment, she may have even closed her eyes.

Though when the door opened and in waltzed a familiar pair of horns, her eyes were wide open, and filled with delight.

"Ah, mister cowboy.” She called over to him. "Sought you vent native back zere.” She teased, but there was a warning in the dip of her chin, the narrowing of her eyes. Though the moment quickly passed. It made room for another, as a young woman suddenly appeared. She was showing Yelena an image on her phone.

Yelena's expression was inscrutable. She didn't say anything at first. Then, turning, she pinched the other woman's cheek like one might a baby, saying with full sincerity, "Tsk, ah! Adorable.”

 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold
LOCATION:
Central
DATE:
July 12, 2013
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

Hiachi heard the boy stepping up to the stand. She wasn’t too concerned by it. He could do what he wanted. Hiachi wasn’t moving a muscle. She was staying there until the festival was over, and then she’d go home to further wallow in shame.

Only, her intrigue was caught when she heard the sound of paper ripping in quick succession. Of all the sounds she expected to hear, it wasn’t that. She quickly forgot her plight to stand up and look at what was happening.

The boy had shot through half of the paper stars, and was still going. She watched with widened eyes as there were five, three, two, then zero untouched stars left. 2500 points, without a doubt. She had no words—well, she hardly ever had words; rather, she had no thoughts. Her mind buzzed around with equal parts of shock and awe.

But as he pointed to the grand prize, her shock melted into anger. She could feel her heart sinking as the reminder: she lost, he won. She would bet all the money she didn’t have that he’d turn around and torment her with the prize. Throw it in a river, rip its head off, or something. That’s what Kenki or Rikunori would have done. She knew she had failed pretty miserably, but he didn’t need to rub it in. Now she was moneyless and watching someone else take home the prize she wanted——

The boy stuffed the coins she had handed over in his pockets with one hand, and grabbed her own with the other. When he started running, she was abruptly carried with him. Every second he kept running, she was on the verge of tripping and falling. Her legs could barely keep up. The only reason she wasn’t falling instantly was the speed with which she moved her restricted feet. It was quickly exhausting—so much so that she had to hold herself up, her hands on her knees, once they stopped.

Once she had taken a few breaths, she lifted her head to match the boy’s gaze. Only she wasn’t met with eyes. She was met with a pile of coins. Her coins. With nothing behind his grin but genuine satisfaction with helping her.

It was all beyond her. The only thing she had been good at, she failed at—and he did effortlessly. And yet he wasn’t flaunting his victory and making her feel bad for trying. He had gotten her money back. She felt a little bad, since what he had done was basically stealing. But she had wanted her money back more than she wanted to follow any rules.

She looked down at the pile of coins she had taken in her hand. “You…” She talked to herself, almost a whisper. When she looked up, the light hit her eyes to reveal a single sparkle of admiration. Any and all resentments had been washed away; Now, all she wanted to know was more. “...You’re amazing! How did you do that?”



 
Takakazu Shishido
CS Link
SCENE:
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold
LOCATION:
Central District
DATE:
July 12, 2013
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi ( miki miki )
The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

A blush appeared on the cheeks of the mask as he earned the tiniest bit of admiration from his good deed; once again, he had been a hero, just like in T.V. As the day went on, it felt like the sheet tied to his neck was growing more and more like the valiant cape he wanted it to be.

“Wasn’t anything special,” he said, feeling a bit cocky as he confidently rubbed underneath his nose with a finger, “Once you figure out the trick, getting past stuff like that is easy!”

While he was content to just leave it to mystery, a small part of him felt like he should at least let her know that it wasn’t her that did anything wrong, as much as it would feed his ego. He walked over to sit at the fountain’s edge, crossing a leg over the other as he looked at the kimono-clad girl.

“It was just another festival scam; they happen all the time,” he explained, motioning his hands like he was holding the gun, “The gun thingy had holes, and it messed up your shots. So I just filled ’em in,” he said with a shrug, before placing his hands onto his legs.

“Don’t you know? A lot of these places use tricks to mess with your chances. My mom tells me that’s how they make their money,” he explained, a devilish grin that didn’t match a hero coming across his face as he leaned forward to close the distance between him and the girl.

“That’s why you gotta trick them back; that’s how you win all the prizes!”

Through his three years here, he had learned a lot about how to take advantage of some of the games and win prizes, ensuring he always had a lot of new goodies whenever he left the festival.

He had never shared his techniques and had no intention either. If everyone knew how to cheat the games, they would change to stop his methods; he had already seen it a few times. He was sure to keep his secrets hidden…

“Wanna know how?”

…But he guessed it couldn’t hurt to tell this girl. Since she had the money, they could both work together to have a bunch of fun.

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
LOCATION:
East District
DATE:
June 13, 2022 || Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Kisara ( simj26 simj26 ), Keith( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Takakazu
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection

“Haaaaaahh?”

A stereotypical thuggish reaction came from Tak as Keith tried to explain his situation, immediately overshadowing any attempt to be amicable about the circumstances as he leaned his face into the redhead's, a mean scowl coming across his expression as the understanding civilian was entirely replaced by the appearance of a brute.

“A bit busy!? You expect me to believe that!?” Tak spat back against Keith’s attempts to get back at the matter at hand, placing a hand in his pocket as he looked past what act he was trying to pull with a raised brow, “You’re just tryin’ to slide out of this problem! Damage a guy’s scooter and then run away! Probably back to your girlfriend where she’s gonna slob all over your dick, huh, pretty boy!?” Tak ranted on, for some reason getting incredibly personal in his tirade.

Finally, he leaned backward, crossing his arms, looking at Keith like a disapproving parent, “Just tell me your insurance info, and give me a way to contact you, and we can talk this over, like adults. I’d rather not take this to the courts,” Tak threatened with a shake of his head, a display of distraught on having to escalate things to such a degree, “I get if you don’t get the money on you. We’re all out here struggling. I mean, look at this economy nowadays. It’s ridiculous!” He again started to get out of hand, scratching his head as he rambled on, “Have you seen the price of a pack of turkey at the grocery store lately? Gotta be inflation or somethin’ like that.”

Continuing to talk, he closed his eyes in thought, not even hearing or realizing as the deafening cry echoed throughout the neighborhood, the screaming of the air as it was spontaneously heated up, water vapor evaporated then eviscerated in an instant as a violent blast soared through the air, the swirling oscillations on the micro level made the beam unsteady within its narrow, condensed pressure, slicing through stone and glass like nothing, leaving gaps of molten material hugged by blackened surfaces from radiant heat.

As this disastrous beam closed in on them rapidly, Tak’s eyes shot open, a flash of blue light coating the side of his face, his mouth opening as a realization dawned on him.

“Oh shit!”

He immediately knelt down, dropping to grab his shoestrings, taking the time to haphazardly and incredibly slowly tie them back together, not even noticing as the beam flew over his head, signing the tips of his hair.

“Didn’t realize these were untied.”

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Dogs and Wolves See Themselves In Each Other, Especially When It's Time To Lick Their Balls
LOCATION:
West District
TIME:
June 22, 2022 | | Post-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Dagger, Tak
Dogs and Wolves See Themselves In Each Other, Especially When It's Time To Lick Their Balls

The convoy moved along; unsuspectingly, the destination was growing close. Many guards had already started to relax, joking with each other in their cars, while others remained vigilant. The road so far had been clear, besides the passing pedestrian cars who stayed far away from what was happening. They weren’t far from the warehouse; they would even have 10 minutes to spare.

Then suddenly, a motorcycle burst onto the scene, a mysterious rider with a mask obscured on their face and a black bag strapped around their body. Hands tightened onto steering wheels, brakes slammed, and curses were thrown.


With a massive explosion into the leading vehicle, it was engulfed in a plume of smoke, blossoms of red and orange engulfing it as the compressed air in its wheels popped, sending the car into the air as it was engulfed in flames, crashing right into another armored vehicle behind it that wasn’t able to stop its breaks in time. The mercs inside quickly rushed out, trying to spill out of the car, but it was too late as the car exploded, sending their lifeless bodies flying across the pavement.

“Shit! A fuckin’ ambush!” A merc swore, unstrapping his seatbelt, but before he could get out, a hail of bullets crashed through the windshield, blood spurting from his body as it pierced through his lungs and stomach, leaving him to gurgle as life flooded out of his body, the mercs in the back seat dipping their heads out of the way as they jumped out of the truck.

Quickly, the hired guns started to grab their weapons and shoot back at their attacker, the smokescreen engulfing the area as the smell of embers and burning gasoline engulfed the surroundings. The screaming of nearby civilians as they ran to flee the scene, the ongoing firefight going completely chaotic.

“How many are there!?” A mercenary shouted as he crouched down behind one of the armored trucks, looking around behind their sunglasses as they tried to get a handle on the situation.

“It’s just one!” Another one replied, raising up to quickly aim his rifle at the lone ambusher, the muzzle going off rapidly as they ran through their magazine, only to promptly receive return fire, bullets nailing him in the head and chest as he fell backward onto the concrete, his blood soaking into the road.


“Damn!” Another mercenary cursed, turning to look towards the armored van they were hired to protect; the ensuing madness had caused it to topple to its side. The side door was finally kicked open, soaring through the air before crashing; their employer climbed out, his old bones having enough energy to support him to get to the top of the toppled van, reaching into his jacket to pull out a cigarette and put it to his lips.

“Shoulda knew it wouldn’t be that easy,” he murmured between his closed lips, bringing a lighter up to his cigarette as he looked through the smoke to spot the single target killing all his men.

“Fuckin’ hell. They sent her?” The man recognized them, even without seeing their face, a scowl going across his face.

“ALL OF YOU, STOP FUCKIN’ AROUND! USE EVERYTHING YOU GOT!” His orders echoed past the sounds of war. His commands brought the mercs to reach towards the belts.

Pins were pulled, and towards Dagger came the hellfire of grenades, dozens of them soaring toward her.
















“Damn, how do I get this thing off?”

Hanging upside down in a turned-over armored vehicle, the new recruit was left forgotten, struggling with his seatbelt that kept him from getting out into the fight. The sounds of explosions and gunfire acted as the background noise as he continued to fiddle with the strap.

“I’m starting to get light-headed…”



simj26 simj26
 
BLACK CLOAKS (NPCS)
SCENE:
The Murder Above The Coffin
LOCATION:
Central District > North District
TIME:
June 8th, 2022 || Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Areith, Deirest ( The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit )
THE MURDER ABOVE THE COFFIN

They had hoped their words would reach her, that even lacking in the divine speech of their sister, they could wish to commune with one of His chosen. They needed the tongue. They were devoid of the sermon. As she went to walk past them, they could only keep their heads bowed in shame.

Then, she spoke. An utterance that baffled them. It was simple. It was That.

What was That? It was the moon. But it was not simple. She sought the moon, the celestial being in her fingertips. Instead, she found the grips of cloth within her grasp. A hand adorned with dirt and blood, coated in filth and cruor.

Their hood head, their face, their emotion. Finding the hand of their savior placed upon them should be an act of great importance. But, they felt no warmth of salvation, the embers stoked to turn into a rabid inferno that knew nothing but to consume.

“G-Go there!?” The cloak stuttered out, a feminine voice filled with confusion and fear. Their obedience had been shattered, bringing them back to the state of a lost lamb, one who could not find their herd and could not lead the way to the moon.

She could only wonder what Deirest meant to go to the moon. Did she seek to ascend? Was it spiritual or literal? Worrying so much about her answer, one never reached her lip. A hand clenched around her neck, nails scraped against her flesh, throat tightening closed, unable to find what to say in response to her wanting demands, her unquestionable desire. It was set to consume her life in its rampage.

Despite being told they were meeting a holy idol, the putrid smell that burned her sinuses and brought tears to her eyes, the feeling around her arm that made it feel like her bones were about to snap, she never felt closer to hell.

Then, the pressure released. Deirest’s grip went slack, allowing her to break free. The confusion brought her attention upward, where she found her answer. Snaking underneath the bottom of a cloak was the chitlin-covered tail that mimicked a scorpion. A bright orange paralytic venom dripped from its tip just before it slinked back into the darkness, obscured from sight.

It quickly ran through her system; she slumped until she collapsed, again finding herself on the ground.

The cloaks looked up towards the one who had struck out; the lack of faces hid their emotions. An attack against their savior, it was left to see how He would react.

However, the act was already done. There was no taking it back, and a chance to finally look at the woman showed her terrible state. It was His kindness that they would bring her to her proper form, more fitting for their savior.


The cloaks lifted her up and carried her through the night.




Areith Rozárie
SCENE:
Murder Above The Coffin
LOCATION:
Abandoned Church, North District
TIME:
June 8th, 2022 || Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Deirest, Areith
Murder Above The Empty Coffin

The dull thrums of organ pipes echoed reverberated off the walls. Patches of missing paint and foundations revealed the old, moss covered brick underneath. Stained glass windows had their holy depictions shattered, holes and gaps tearing the stories asunder. Graffiti streaked the ground, found spots on the corners, and even on the sides of the wooden pews.

Statues that had long since lost their original luster were stationed high above, looking down, polished exteriors ruined by exposure to the elements, turning porous. Missing fingers, broken ceramics, missing chunks.

Pale fingers pressed down on in succession, hollowed tones danced through the air, strained screams of grandiose notes as hands danced across the keys. A series of old note sheets placed in front of them, stains and tears along with faded ink revealed the age of the songs they played, missing or obscured parts only leaving her with own intuition.

She played alone, the room of congregation devoid of all life, except one other. Rested upon a pew, a pillow placed underneath her head, a cover to keep her away from the cold air of the atmosphere.

Until she awoke, she would continue to play, her ghostly tones reverberating throughout the abandoned church.
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | July 6th, 2022
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Bushineko
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
Of course, and of course again.

Of course, the first, that psychotic roach had gotten away. Pei's run-on analysis of the situation, even if he wasn't pulling those numbers out of his ass, went into one of Passeri's ears and out of the other. Fifty percent, five percent, zero-point-five percent, with the way her luck had been today, they all may as well have been a one-hundred percent guarantee. If her heart could've sunk anymore, it would've, but as things stood it was already so far down in her gut that she was worried about it falling out of her ass.

Of course, the second, he, this stranger, had somehow stumbled upon the news of her 'promotion' before ninety-seven percent of her own gang. Suddenly, here she was, face to face with one of her deepest dreads. The most dangerous secret of her life, between the index and thumb of some stranger, beyond the reach of the Tigers, and beyond her grasp.

Her sense of gratitude went out like a lightbulb.

"...What?" Passeri was flummoxed. The next thing she'd been expecting out of the cackling man's lips had been blackmail. A bid for her to drain her bank accounts, or betray some obscure secret of her gang. "I...?" She hadn't a clue. How could she? Her thoughts were as labored her her breath, and even if she hadn't been struggling for her life, she'd hardly even been one for riddles.

She squeezed whatever vestiges of wit she had left in her for all they were worth. Whatever game it was that the man was playing, it wasn't like she had any choice but to join him at the table. Usually, she would've made some attempt to analyze the man. She'd have played for time and strung him along until she'd gleaned enough of him to be confident in her answer, but time was hardly a luxury she had.

"...To kill pests?" Cough. Splutter. Wipe. It was the best she could offer, hacked up out of her guts just like all of those mouthfuls of blood. "What're you... Playing here...?" She struggled out another few words. Every time she spoke, it got harder, like her voice was slowly being pulled away from her. So badly, she wanted to rest, but even more, she needed to know.

And so did he. Him. The one and only. Far above, the sound of rotors grew near. The flight of he, the Valkyrie, who carried the stories of the dead and damned on his back. Choppy winds took the exposed supermarket as a helicopter proudly branded with the logo of 9-News made its descent.

"...And in an ongoing story, as of 13:45 this afternoon, a number of reports have been made concerning a possible terror attack on the Hemmsvale branch of Grubtopia." Far away, in a more peaceful part of the city, a family's comfortable viewing of a toy commercial was interrupted by a breaking news report.

"Due to the state of the District following the May 31st Earthquake, police have been slow to respond. Reports have been made that an event hosted by the singer Passeri Park was being held at the time of the attack, but further details are unknown. However, 9-News is glad to report that our very own Quinten R.V. Ewe, has made it to the scene. Quinten, what is the very latest there?"

"Yes! Thank you, Lena!" Up above the grocery store, a nasally yet supremely confident voice shouted. "As you can see, things are looking dire here. The building, which until today had been one of the lucky few to escape Central's collapse, is in a state of extreme destruction, and..." His voice hesitated as he pressed his eyes into a pair of binoculars, still on air. "And... Is that...?"

It was. A shock of silver hair lay amongst the wreckage. Any reporter of his caliber could've identified it in a second. Less than a second. He, one should note, took even less than that. Microseconds. Nanoseconds, even.

"It is...!" He ripped the binoculars away, and returned to the camera. "This just in, Lena! Passeri Park is still on-site! It's hard to tell her status, but she seems to be accompanied by several unidentified figures. One tall, blonde man, and several smaller entities!"

His head quickly jerked off-screen, and he shouted something at his pilot that seemed to accelerate their descent.

"And here's the cavalry..." Passeri couldn't keep the wry remark from spilling out of her lips. 9-News. At least- she thanked whatever lucky stars she had left- it wasn't the paparazzi.

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Fighting A Wild Animal Seems Scary Until You Get Hungry
LOCATION:
Central District
TIME:
April 17th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi, Dante, Tatsu(?), Eric
INTERACTION:
Dante, Hiachi
Fighting A Wild Animal Seems Scary Until You Get Hungry

Despite making a poor innocent girl cry, the rookie tiger was entirely unapologetic, sighing as the trash can he was unleashing havoc on finally toppled over, its contents of wrappers and cans spilling out onto the ground.

He turned to glare towards Dante, a shove of hands into his pockets as a frown came across his lips and uneven stubble, “I read a magazine that told me that bottling up your emotions is the leading cause for stress, and that shit makes you age quicker. I ain’t tryin’ to have my balls shrivel up in my 30s,” Tak explained his motives behind his seeming obsession with stating his thoughts out loud, turning around to continue his slouched stroll to the ticket gates, the groups of happy families that they passed contrasting the brooding trio, a complete contrast to their surroundings.

“Like I would ever take any of you on a cruise with my money,” he replied, sliding a hand out of his pocket to stick a finger up his nose, digging around for a booger before finally pulling out one onto the tip of his finger, “If I won that prize, I woulda blown it on somethin’ actually worth it. Like a lifetime supply of cheesy puffs and some babes to feed ‘em to me,” Tak spoke of his massive goals with the money as he flicked the booger off into the distance, landing on the back of some unaware woman as they finally made their way into the ticket line.

As the topic gravitated to ice cream, which would give any ordinary person joy, Tak could only look at Dante with a scowl, “The hell are you? Five? You should just put some ice in your boxers like a normal person,” Tak stated, suggesting something no average person would do.

But, as the topic changed from ice cream to free ice cream, Tak’s gaze immediately sharpened, brow furrowing as a concentrated glint sparkled in his eyes.

“Free?”

As if it was a trigger word, Tak’s whole attitude shifted from his usual deadpan annoyance to being deeply involved, crossing his arms as Dante recited the obnoxious name of a branded ice cream associated with the idol no one could get enough of; he wasn’t sure to be more insulted that he took the time to say the whole name or the fact he wasn’t even right about it.

“That ain’t the name. It’s ☆ Passeri Park’s Chocolate Dreams with Star Dust. ☆ It’s chocolate brownie ice cream swirled with cherry rosewater ice cream, topped with candy pieces of stars,” Tak recited the actual ice cream flavor with a straight face, though he looked unhappy the whole time as he corrected Dante. Quickly, he moved past it, closing his eyes as he thought about what he wanted.

“I’m getting cookie dough-- no, they probably have the limited edition flavors. I’ll go with banana foster, then.”

Just like that, he made his choice, turning to look towards Hiachi; for once, without a look of anger or annoyance, he looked at her with genuine curiosity, his expression softened.

“Go ahead and let this chump know you eat real ice cream, none of that Neapolitan shit. Stuff like cookies and cream and peanut butter!” Tak proclaimed the ice cream hierarchy, raising a fist in the air.

Amid his ice cream-focused expositions, he remembered he had yet to give the two of their tickets; quickly pulling them out of his pocket, he held the bright yellow strips between his fingers, offering them over.

“All this talk of ice cream, and it’s not like we can get some if we can’t pass the gates."



miki miki Haze- Haze-
 
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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?

In this position, he could see the Tiger for who she was. Her blood lined the ground before him; powerless eyes sought answers, wrought with worry, grasping for understanding. They were disgustingly human.

Why was he here at this moment? A random Phoenix just in time to see a central figure such as herself at one of her lowest, where no masks could be donned, or any curtains could be called. The blood swimming up her throat drowned out any lies or chances of misconception. Her ideas were left plain, beliefs hung bare.

Pei could only laugh, his usual cackle, his hands going to hips as he reeled back, his maniacal joy echoing through the air at Passeri’s response to his question. It wasn’t a riddle, nor was there any trick. He just wanted to hear what she would say. He wanted an answer just like that: simple, to the point, barring all nuance. Primal, basic, animalistic.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK! TO KILL PESTS!? THAT’S A DAMN GOOD ONE! KEKEKEKEKEK!” Pei was elated, Kiys dropping down to land on his shoulder and cackle right along with him, Pei’s whole body shifting and shaking as his laughter continued on until he abruptly stopped, letting his head drop down with the force of gravity, looking back down at Passeri.

Even as the sounds of helicopter blades finally came up close, the harsh winds of spinning blades causing his spiked hair to rustle around in the wind, his enigmatic grin didn’t despite looking at Passeri with his tiny eyes.

“What am I playing at?! Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that!?” He shouted, pointing a finger down toward the dying woman. “If a house cat’s job is to kill pests, shouldn’t you start digging those paws into the mouse holes!? Waiting for them to come out for the cheese doesn’t do anything to stop the infestation, does it!? KEKEKEKEKEKEK!”

Pei gave Passeri his final piece of self-pleasing injunction, the ravings of a madman as if he was describing an early morning cartoon. She had already taken her seat at the table, and now Pei was growing impatient for her to decide her first move, no matter how rough her landing into the chair had been.

Finally turning away from the idol, the devil’s eyes flew upward; looking at the approaching helicopter, the media had finally arrived.

“Oi. Bimbo,” Pei directed his attention back to Passeri but didn’t bother to look back at her as he continued to watch the helicopter’s descent, “If that brain of yours isn’t too fucked up from being tossed around, go ahead and tell me what story you want me to tell these fuckheads,” Pei stated, sticking his hands in his pockets, “Just this once, I’ll follow your lead.”




The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
LAZLO SHEPHERD
SCENE:
Office Escapades
LOCATION:
The OfficeTM, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lazlo, Kiwi
OFFICE ESCAPADES
”How long’s it take a guy to get lunch round here?”

Lazlo rapped his fingers across the desk, peering over the last dregs of his coffee. He liked to have coffee with a footlong sub. Steak and cheese. But he had nothing, and his stomach was rumbling.

”Swear I sent Johnny an hour ago unless my clocks are all slow. They got roadworks down there again? maybe he had ta make a detour.”

This was Lazlo’s settling-in week. His chilling out week. Months on the west coast, doing who knows what needed recovery time. He needed to relearn the layout of his new desk. He needed to acclimatize to the AC, learn the name of the new receptionist, he needed to adjust his eyes to the shade of the West’s tall buildings. It was all very, very strenuous, and all Lazlo wanted was a calm lunch break. His break would be ending soon, but he’d done everything right, sending his assistant early to beat the lunch rush and everything. So why’s the world against him?

”Hey Kiwi, why don’tcha see where Johnny’s run off to? He ain’t even answering my texts.”

He scrolled through his phone another time, but nothing new. A few messages sent at intervals of a few minutes, all left unread.

Johnny Guy - Active 30 minutes ago

 
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HECTOR MOSES
LOCATION:
Some Park, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Hector
YOU KNOW THE RULES, AND SO DO I

”Well well well, finally a welcome worth my title.” Hector turned, kicking dust at the bodies that gurgled blood at his feet. When he saw the man who approached, metal already began to grow out of his hand again, though he didn’t seem any more threatening than those he just killed. He must be something though, if he had the gall to confront him.

”Usually cops don’t get the chance to see me again.” Hector swiped down to emphasize his point. ”You must think you’re some kinda hero, huh? But I don’t have a fuckin’ clue who you are.” One step at a time, the distance between them shortened. He was ravenous now. A brief lick of blood, of victory, and now he had to devour. ”If I missed you, you woulda seen me sooner, but don’t worry. You’ll be on the news. Maybe they’ll lay a wreath down for you. You don’t mess with Southern business, don’t they teach you that?”

His other hand became enveloped in metal, and he winced as his wounds filled with it, stopping any bleeding. ”You’ll learn soon enough anyway.” Hector charged, blade leading the way.

 
Last edited:
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
The Idol Fanclub Trials (Pre-Arc 2)
LOCATION:
Highreach, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Shishido Takakazu, Passeri Park ( The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit )
The Idol Fanclub Trials

Tak was lifeless as a corpse, even as the annoying buzzing of the peppy idol hit his ears. He only looked at her with bloodshot eyes as she talked about him being a true fan and all that other crap. The figurine he had fought so hard for was plucked out of his hands without any resistance as he continued to lay there.

As Passeri decided to take it upon herself to specially sign the figure Tak had retrieved, the other fan club members could only look on in anguish. They bit their lips so hard that blood ran down their chins like a waterfall, barely holding themselves together as they resisted the urge to pounce for the limited edition collectible now turned into an exclusive piece of merchandise.

The only one who could keep their head on straight was the captain, calm amongst the storm he gave an affirmative nod towards Passeri, “A great idea. I expect no less from you, Iroi.” the fiery man acknowledged, the simple fact that she was giving them forewarning that an item like this would be available was far too kind of her.

As Passeri excitedly questioned the subsequent trial, Tak finally pushed himself up to sit up, reaching his hand to scratch his head as he looked between the idol and the captain, “What am I gonna do all day? Just be pushing my way through the sweaty, musty bodies of nerds?” Tak mumbled under his breath, visibly growing more tired as time passed.

Hapori shook his head at Passeri’s assumptions, crossing his arms, “A gauntlet is a fine idea, but I have something better planned. I’m sure you will be quite excited by it, Iroi,” he stated coolly before turning away, his headband fluttering in the wind.

“All of you follow me, our next location isn’t far away.”

The other club members didn’t hesitate to follow behind their captain; Tak, on the other hand, only blinked, watching them move ahead.

Just what exactly did they have planned next?





It was a dark room; the lack of lights made nothing visible except the three silhouettes within the frame's center. Their lower halves were obscured behind some kind of podium, two figures easily recognizable by their features, one head full of messy hair and another devoid of any. The third figure, however, was entirely unrecognizable, a whole two heads shorter than the other two men, as he stood slightly slouched at the podium that barely was below his chest.

Suddenly, spotlights flashed on, and all three contestants were illuminated. Tak stood next to the nameless baldy of the group on his right, and on his left…was a man who looked homeless, with a dirty bomber jacket, broken glasses, and an orange cap full of holes that covered his graying and balding hair. He stood there munching on a large piece of jerky, uninterested in what was happening.

As the lights installed on their buzzers flashed, and the energetic music took over the scene, Tak was left there dumbfounded, his eyes sinking into his soul as his pupils lacked life. Before he could even question his situation, their host took the stage.

A familiar figure with puffy yellow hair spun onto the scene, his idol fan attire replaced with a sparkling blue suit and matching pants, a microphone in his hand as he came to a stop, pointing his finger towards the screen like he was live on TV.

“Welcome to another episode of everyone’s favorite show, The Idol Quiz Show!”

Clapping came from the audience, which only amounted to four people. Manyard, Passeri, Hapori, and some random guy in the back row who had already fallen asleep, a giant snot bubble coming out of his rounded nose as his hands rested on his portly belly.

The barrier between the main stage and the audience was separated by cameras and their numerous wires, rows of seats in dull lightning, as if someone couldn’t figure out how to operate the whole set. The grandiose entrance of their host contrasted with how unprofessional the entire setting was.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIII!”

Tak’s enraged shout halted the show, his hands gripping hard on the sides of his podium as he leaned forward, veins protruding out of his forehead as he shouted, “What the hell is going on here!? What the fuck is this!?” He blurted out his command for an answer, head darting in every direction.

“Clearly, it's a quiz show.” Camelo looked at him with a deadpan expression on his face, clearly a bit annoyed about being interrupted, a mug of deadpan that he kept even as Tak reached forward and tugged on his hair and pulled him in close, bright red veins in the brute’s eyes as his pupils twitched, the corner of his lip twitching in annoyance. “I know it’s a damn quiz show, asshole. I’m askin’ why I’m on it!”

Despite Tak having him in a grip, Camelo turned his head upward in pompous disbelief of Tak’s idiocy, even as his scalp was stretched along with his hair, “Isn’t it obvious? It’s your next trial.”

“HUUUH!?’
Tak finally let Camelo go, using his now free hand to slam his fist against the podium, causing it to shake, “How the hell did you get permission to use a set like this in such a short time!? This is on a completely different level than the first trial!”

Camelo’s response to Tak’s question was to just calmly point over his shoulder at Manyard, the brunette waving towards Tak innocently as the attention was suddenly put on him, “His dad is the producer, he just asked him.”


Tak could only faceplant himself into a buzzer in response, “Of course…” he murmured, unsure why he even bothered being surprised at this point. Wait a sec!” His head rose back up, turning and pointing towards the homeless man beside him, still going at his piece of jerky, “Why is there a homeless guy here!?’

Camelo gave a shrug, puckering his lips tightly like a fish as he spoke full of ego, “Well, if we played, then you would have no chance of winning.~ We would know all the questions after all.~ So we just picked this guy off the street.”

Even if Tak hated how he said it, he couldn't deny that a quiz against any of them about the idol he wouldn’t stand a chance. That was an assuring thought, that they considered it. Still, that gave him one other question.

“What’s the deal with Baldy then?” He asked, glancing over towards the still unnamed member.

“Gill?” Camelo reiterated, looking over to his hairless friend, “Oh yeah, out of all of us, he’s the newest fan, so he knows the least. So he should be a fair challenge for you.”

“Hooh? That so?”
Tak raised a hand to stroke his chin at this information, now that was some good news. If Gil was a new guy, would he stand a chance then? This quiz sounded more like it would be easier than the previous one, a grin coming across his lips. He had been around these losers enough to pick up a few things, surely he could use guesswork to win this thing.

“Alright! Bring on the quiz!” Tak resounded with a fist pump. He was going to win this thing for sure!

“Then let us begin!” Camelo exclaimed; the screen behind him flashed to life, and quickly sliding across the screen was the first question.

Q1: Which of Iroi’s albums topped the charts for 2 months straight when it was first released?

A: Stargazer
B: Petal Gallery
C: Lucidity

D: None of the above.

A hand slapped down immediately, the buzzer going off as it flashed a bright red.

“Gill!” Camelo pointed towards the hairless man, expecting his answer.

“Stargazer, with a total sales of 6 million copies.”

“CORRECT!”


Tak could only stand there frozen, blinking as the dings and rings of the correct answer went off as everything lit up. What had just happened!? He didn’t even get to think of the question, and it was already over. Wasn’t this guy supposed to be a newbie!? His head slowly turned to look towards Gill as if a glance could provide him some answer; he was left staring for a long moment before Gill noticed his gaze.

He simply grinned, reaching his hands up to slide off his robe adorned with his love for Iroi, turning himself away from Tak to reveal his back towards his competitor.

Tak’s jaw dropped, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he got full access to the man’s back. The view panned away from his reaction to show what garnered such a response.

The ink had been etched in his back, depicting her face surrounded by stars and hearts, the names of her albums and their release dates, and various other icons of branding associated with Iroi and Our☆Dream.

Like nothing, Gil properly adjusted his robe onto him, turning back to focus on the game as Tak was still left there, staring.

This was supposed to be her smallest fan compared to the others?!

Unlike anything before, a feeling of terror went through him; an understanding of how outmatched he was finally dawned on him.

He needed help.

His head snapped over in a blur to the only other person who could assist him as the next question popped up on the screen. His eyes visibly screamed for assistance as he looked towards the idol. She was the only one who could get him out of this pickle.

Whatever her choice, the next question had already appeared above on the screen for both of them to look at.


 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again
LOCATION:
Central District
DATE:
May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Takakazu, Dante ( Haze- Haze- ), Nao (@tityanya)
INTERACTIONS:
Nina ( Haze- Haze- )
If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again


Tak blinked at the woman with his two good eyes as she talked about turning people into stone, “Huh? It gives people boners!? The hell kinda eye is that!?” He spit out in bewilderment at the woman’s claims, taking her explanation as a completely different turn. He had heard of snake ladies before but had no clue people found them that sexy; he was somewhat curious upon seeing how it worked.

But his interest was quickly snuffed, and his Little Tak remained flaccid as the eyepatch flipped upward, revealing it to not be anything special, the man’s face visibly scrunching up in disappointment as he leaned against the side of the bar counter.

A stye? Is that another name for getting your eye swollen after being punched?” He questioned, tapping a finger against the cold marble, “Sounds like you got some problems. Shouldn’t you be at home drinkin’ some of your mom’s chicken soup or something?” he sneered, clearly not understanding how the whole thing worked, comparing it to some common cold.


Before Tak could continue to idiotically talk down for the poor woman, her offer to buy them both drinks immediately erased the brooding, thick-skinned atmosphere that had surrounded him up until now; his eyes lit up in surprise, like a kid on Christmas, “Woah, you serious!? Damn! And here I thought you were another crazy druggie!” Tak shouted shamelessly as he straightened his posture, “Never had a girl pay for my drink before; you that lonely?”

The bartender only gave a silent nod in response to Nina’s order, turning around and placing his hands around the cheapest liquor he knew, pouring them into glasses as the off-white liquid filled up the rim of the hand-sized glasses, which were slid onto the counter as the two were busy talking.


Well, talking was a bit of a stretch. Nina continued to prattle on, Tak looking at her with half interest, which slowly dissipated more and more as she went on until he looked fully detached from reality, gazing at her with sunken eyes. Instead of responding, he reached a hand over to grab his paid-for drink, bringing it to his lips and throwing it back with a chug until nothing was left.

He slammed the glass back onto the counter, staring into the empty cup silently as if deeply contemplating Nina’s words. She had heard rumors, huh?

The sound of the club’s music dulled in the background as he finally turned back to stare at her, not saying a word for a moment.

“...So, you want to know about ‘that’...huh?” Slowly sticking a hand into his pocket, Tak stated, “I didn’t know word would travel so fast.”

Slowly, his hand slipped out from his pocket, its contents secret, until finally.

A pack of gum was held between his fingers.

“It’s just like school; can’t pass any around without everyone else asking for a piece,” he lamented, slipping out a single piece and offering it to her.

“Here, it’s the least I can do.”






“Don’t let anyone else in.”

A muffled voice came through the bouncer earpiece. The stalwart man registered it but made no visual indication he had received orders. He glanced towards the small line that had formed and led to the nearby stairwell as he closed the door.

“Club’s full.”

That was all he needed to say; even as people’s expressions turned to sadness and some to anger, they all knew better than to make a scene lest they find themselves attracting the attention of a bigger fish. They had no choice but to walk back up the stairs in shame, spreading out into the alley as they murmured amongst each other.

The door separated the outside world from the inside, like a chamber that would withhold the secrets and ensuing experiment.

Whispers began to arise. Small baggies began to pass hands.

The party was only getting started.

 

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