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

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BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)
SCENE:
Lost on Bourbon
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1—2021, June 5th (Friday)—1:00 AM
LOCATION:
Somewhere outside of the city; Locked in a room...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector
LOST ON BOURBON
Bolt’s entire body was buzzing. Buzzing by the intoxicants diluting his senses and reflexes, and by the increasing rage twisting and writhing in his gut like a dying snake coils beneath the sun. The shackles around his ankles, chained to the floor, prevented him from charging the man. Those around his wrists prevented him from straightening to his fullest posture.

He stood hunched, scowling with teeth bared—the image of a wolf defending its territory—but the tall, slender doctor gave only an audible smirk, unseen beneath his wicked mask.

Even at the sound of Hector’s voice, who had been stirring to wakefulness, Boltius never tore his eyes from the doctor, but the doctor, contrarily, directed his attention toward the Ace instead, and the two began a back and forth. Meanwhile, Boltius took this chance to try melting his binds.

He focused and felt for the source of his power… Only… The orange-haired Phoenix looked all-of-the-sudden perplexed. There was nothing there, not a single filament of that energy from which he was so used to drawing. That sensation. That spark. That splash of vitality and effervescence.

It was… Unresponsive.

Boltius knew what he was looking for. Like knowing how to ride a bike. Only he couldn’t reach it. All of the know-how was still there, but the muscle memory was gone.

He’d felt this before as a kid.

No, you’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me… he thought impatiently, flexing his arms with sprawled fingers, causing his chains to rattle.

Still nothing.

“Bolt…”

Boltius looked at Hector, his expression pensive as he tried to think. It was like trying to remember the name of a song he’d heard but once. The harder he tried, the further away it got, every tiny sound impeding his concentration. The air flowing from the vent above, the ticking of a clock on the wall. It was all so distracting.

Just then.

83bfb897e57cf537735400749ced1ffb.png
“You.” The Doctor approached Boltius before he’d realized, and planted his foot into Bolt’s chest. “Vat are you going to do?” But Boltius didn’t flinch, nor did he answer the question. Rather, he stared, glaring up with his eyes at the tinted panes of the Doctor’s goggles.

Had it not been for his slightly hunched posture, he’d have likely lost his balance, as he was still drunk off his ass. Everything was spinning and in-and-out of focus, and he was pretty sure his body was working up to vomit.

”Das vat I sought.” The Doctor dropped his foot, but not without giving Boltius a shove. “Now. Ze two of you sit put, as I’ve ozer matters to attend. You vill catch me a fine price.”

When he was gone, and the door was shut, he could still be heard on the other side fiddling with several locks that lined the door’s length. Then when silence came, Boltius moved as close to Hector as he could, still unable to reach him.

“Yo, hey, you good?” he asked. “My shit’s actin’ up… Can you get us out of this?” He didn’t elaborate, then mumbled whilst wiping his chest, “Fucker stuck his nasty ass shoe on me.” WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —Boltius is currently shirtless and wearing his usual golden earrings, chains, and rings + some sweatpants and shoes

— —Tattoo Reference (X)

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

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Boltius and Hector, after loading up onto a generous party bus outside of the A-Club in Central, drunk out of their wits, have found themselves in a sticky situation... They've essentially been kidnapped and robbed of their potentials. They are currently chained up in an empty room, no furniture but the clock on the wall.
 
BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)
SCENE:
Nightlife Tryst
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2—2021, September 19th—9:00 PM
LOCATION:
South District's Nightlife District, East-side...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Dyne Damafaud Damafaud
NIGHTLIFE TRYST
The comment on his potential earned a smile from the Phoenix, then a snicker at her next. She was much more inviting than he’d anticipated.

“Lead the way, darling. You're the boss of this street~” Dyne nestled close to him and it didn’t take long for Boltius to wrap his arm around her as they moved. A short walk it was, but the night was only getting started. And when he heard her name, paired with the bold statement, the deal was sealed.

Tonight, she was his.

He considered a flirtatious retort, but chose, instead, to wink with a click of the tongue as he fished his ID from his wallet and handed it to the Bouncer, who looked it over with a stone gold gaze before giving it back and taking Dyne’s.

“Thank ya,” said Bolt, returning the card to his wallet, which he then returned to his pocket.

This time, the Bouncer smiled. His eyes traced the length of Dyne’s form and not without notice from Boltius. But as he held the ID out for Dyne to take, it was Boltius who grabbed it and stuck it in the woman’s hand. All the while, his impassive expression belied something more threatening.

“Keep it in your pants, bud.” The Phoenix’s tone was sharp. He was not above jealousy, nor acting upon it. Indeed, he could make this goliath of a man scream like a prepubescent boy scout, but such hostility and brutality could sully their date, so he thought better of it and led the way into the club’s boisterous environment.

Inside, by the booming music, he raised his voice to ensure he was heard, saying, “This place is pretty neat!...” He paused and took Dyne’s hand, pulling her through the wave of people on the dance floor to reach the serving counter behind which a woman stood entertaining some guests. “In the back, they’ve got a spa with a hot-tub… You can come here—” Without halting his speech, he pat the counter and gestured the mixologist over, “—and order drinks, or you can snag some from one a’ the tray-guys walkin’ around… wherever~” On the last word, he gave a lazy wave of the hand.

“So what’s your poison, chick?” he asked, nodding at the mixologist who unspokenly recognized him. “You don’t strike me as beer…”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (X) + Black/Silver Earrings, Rings, and Chains rather than his usual golden. The pink shirt is tied around his waist by the sleeves, leaving him in a grey tank top.

— —Tattoo Reference (X)

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

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Boltius Beckman of the Scarlet Phoenixes and Dyne Enjyre of the Azure Dragons happen upon each other in the outskirts of the South's Nightlife District. A woman like Dyne is of a higher standard than what Boltius is used to, but he hopes he can charm her.
 
Elias Yumin
SCENE:
Osamu and Mina's Party Bash
TIME:
September 25th, 2021 | Post Arc 1
LOCATION:
Osamu's Crib
PARTICIPANTS:
Osamu, Minato, Matsuda, August, Elias
Osamu and Mina's Party Bash

Elias sighed, loosening his tie as Ronald parked the sports vehicle. Straight from work to yet another party. Sometimes that just felt like more work…but Tigers were at least more interesting than business partners. Then again, there was no saying he couldn’t do business with a Tiger. He simply liked to keep his gang life and his regular life separate. Yumin Entertainment was a clean business…relatively. Walter would kill him if the man found out that Elias had paid his way into the Albino Tiger gang. Well, no. He wouldn’t. His boss wouldn’t even dare fire him. The CEO of Yumin Entertainment would simply report it to his father…which would lead to no end of nagging from the old man.

There were only so many times Elias could erase his parents’ memories before even he would start feeling guilty. “This is Megamind’s place?”

“Yeah,”
Ronald tossed Elias his keys. “I looked it up. The guy’s a Rook like us and fuckin’ cheater but he makes a fuckton of money so no one complains.”

Elias smirked. “Jealous?”

“Ahhhhh, just shut it Yumin!”

“Anamnesis,”
Elias correctly benignly as he stepped out of the car. “When I’m doing a job for the Tigers or helping you look for Alice, I am Elijah Anamnesis.”

Ronald snorted. “As if anyone who’s anyone doesn’t already know who you are. If you wanted to hide yer identity, get a mask or somethin’.”

“Why bother when a single touch from me is all it takes for people to forget they’ve ever seen me?”
Elias replied smuggly. Ronald backed away warily as Elias stepped closer. It was always the same with people who knew what he could do. The difference between Ronald and Charmy’s assistant, however, was that Ronald was an NP. The disparity in their movements were as clear as day. Like the difference between a levelable player character and a background npc. Lifting the luxury wine bottle he’d been holding, the one he’d randomly pulled from his stash because he couldn’t be bothered to look through all the brands, Elias put it in Ronald’s clammy hands. “Can’t go to a fancy frat party without bringing a gift~ Also, be sure to congratulate Doppelganger should you see him. I heard he’d been recently promoted to Veteran status.”

“No more fees?”

“No more fees,”


Ronald sighed. “Damn. I wonder when I’ll reach veteran status…”

Never. Not unless the organization of the Albino Tigers as a whole changed. However, Elias didn’t voice his unnecessary thoughts. He simply put on his usual smile as the pair of Tigers made their way up several elevators and towards the room where the party was being held.

Ron pressed the doorbell. “Still…I can’t believe you’ll go to a party like this one and not the Sedas gala. Fuck! If you didn’t want your invite, you shoulda given it to me!”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help in looking for our missing Princess?”
Elias asked rhetorically, checking his watch for the time. A little bit early. “Information about Tigers is best found among Tigers. It’s obvious Mr. Hat couldn’t have taken Alice away on his own. I’m hoping we’ll find clues here.”

Though…if he were Janay, he would’ve high-tailed it out of the West District already. Actually, all the hints pointed towards Central. If anyone were to have seen Alice, it would be there. He just wanted to fill in some missing pieces before then…and maybe have a little fun…get a little bit wasted…before doing some actual Tiger work. He’d seen Alicia’s memories and knew the truth. He didn’t dislike Janay. He was simply…undecided…much like the choices he’d been presented with 7 years ago. Perhaps a party thrown by the Tigers’ resident ‘genius’ and the fast-talking, multi-tasking swindler would loosen his mind a little. Perhaps not. Perhaps it would end up like the party the King held roughly a week before.

Smirking at the thought, Elias dropped the watch-wearing wrist and placed a hand on his hip as he waited for the door to open.



Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Slav Slav Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
"Two" is Company
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, July 20th 2021
LOCATION:
Camila's Apartment, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Minato
"TWO" IS COMPANY

"Look, if we finish this job without issues, let's celebrate with dinner over at my place, my treat."

With those words said hours ago, she had finally trapped the charming yet elusive Minato within her grasp.

It was a pretty common day in the life of an Albino Tiger, both Camila and Minato had been contracted to find Elisa Robinson, the owner of a small bussiness in a corner of West District which happened to be located right within a block which the Tigers had settled on for a rebuilding project. Unfortunately Elisa had rejected the Tigers' initial offer of buying her bussiness, so it was up to them to find this woman and...Convince her to yield, one way or another. Fortunately, it wasn't hard for them to get ahold of some..."unfaithful" evidence that Elisa's husband would not be very rejoiced to find out about. Overall, it was a surprisingly easy and smooth job.

As the key turned inside of the lock, the door to Camila's apartment opened up, it was quite the nice place within the heart of West District. The girl dropped her purse on her sofa and headed straight into the kitchen, resting her elbows on the bar.

"So! welcome to my little place~ I'll start making dinner in a bit, you want anything to drink?"

She was confident she was going to get a slice of that Mina Pie tonight.



What's Camila wearing.

 
BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)
SCENE:
Fraudulent Meeting
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2—2021, September 21st—After 4:00 PM
LOCATION:
His Apartment >> ??? District, Plaza...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Sang-Cheol Misuteeku Misuteeku
FRAUDULENT MEETING
Boltius sucked his teeth as he awaited a response from Sang-Cheol.

This motherfucker forget what I look like or somethin’? On the thought, his eyebrows twitched to furrow—eyes narrowed with doubt. Naaah, ain’t no way.

He was too colorful and distinctive to forget, what with the confident and electric quality of his character. Heh, right? A crooked smirk betrayed the nature of his thoughts.

“Sorry about that,” said Sang-Cheol, and Boltius snapped to attention to witness a smile upon the man’s face. “Hm? Oh- No, it’s-... Nah, you’re good.”

“I feel a little nervous, that's all.”

Boltius flinched his head back, “Oh.” Scratching his cheek, he smiled softly, “It’s cool.”

Sang-Cheol went on and Boltius listened politely, nodding along. A nearby arcade was mentioned—the promise of some friendly competition—but despite a bubble of enthusiasm in his chest, the Phoenix played it cool with a casual, “Sure. Uh, no, arcade’s fun. I haven’t been to one in a while.” Boltius wiggled his fingers, “So I might be rusty, but we’ll see.”

He nudged a fist into Sang-Cheol’s shoulder then and beckoned him to follow, “Let’s go,” but took only a few steps before he realized he didn’t know where they were going and stopped. “Wait- Where?”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (X) + His usual bling/jewelry

— —Tattoo Reference (X)

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

— —Bolt's Apartment (X)

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Several days ago, before the events of Arc-1 on September 17th, Boltius was approached by a stranger seeking his friendship. This stranger wrote up a contract agreement, which Boltius signed promising he would meet the stranger for a fun day on the town, that day being today.
 
TAZZ (August August)
SCENE:
Unlikely Encounter
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2 — September 19th, 2021: 11:40 PM
LOCATION:
Driving, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
UNLIKELY ENCOUNTER
“I'm Raph... By the way.”

“Raph?” August said almost immediately, sparing a brief glance at the Serpent fiddling with the ventilation controls. This earned an amused smirk from the Tiger to see, and he thought to let it play out a bit longer but decided not to.

“Ovah theh,” he instructed, pointing to the Serpent’s door. “The side a’ ya seat. Down. On tha side. A button.” All the while, his teal-blue eyes never peeled from the long stretch of blacktop ahead.

And he fell quiet, hearing the hum of the tires, driving at a careful speed. Streetlight washed over them in intervals of fading blackness, mixed with the exciting colors of billboard advertisements and the attractive neon glow of signs in commercial windows.

There were no cars behind them either, the blue-and-red flare of police sirens now a vague haze in the distance. On this street, they were alone.

“Raph.” August's voice cut through the silence. “Didju know that leathah stahted becomin’ popularized foh fashion purposes as fah back as three-thousand BC?” He said this and nodded to himself, tapping the steering wheel with his thumbs. “Pretty neat-o, yeh?”

“Also, ya probly know this already but it changes texture based on its environment. Leathah contains pores.” August bounced his eyebrows at Raph. “Even jackets.”

Their exact destination was unknown, but it seemed August was subconsciously headed North.

He went on about the history of leather for a moment longer, then changed the subject and talked of the history of dining etiquette and how it’s viewed as an art form or other by many individuals, moving on again but not without saying, “Not me, though… Ah loike big spoons… an’ ‘at’s it. Couldn’t be bothahed.”

Coming upon a stop light-turned-red, August showed no signs of heeding the law and continued forward at a steady speed. To a perceptive audience, examination might would reveal that he’d zoned out—thoughts of the earliest form of tableware circulating his mind per his tendency to ramble, seeking without conscious intention another topic to pursue.

Then when the red luminescence passed overhead and they were across the intersection, following a short delay, the Tiger’s brows knit together and he curiously pursed his lips. “Did ah just pass ‘at stoploight?” He recalled doing so, yes, and casually brushed it off, “Wup… Anyway, location… Wheh ya takin’ us? Have ya gotta flat? Wanna elope, become royals in a distant land? So wot’s gotcha slitherin’ wittha Suhpents, ay?
AUGUST NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (X) + Covered in red, wine stains

— —His car (2020 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 (X))

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: After an unlikely encounter at a bar called Geronimo's which consisted of August and Raphael clashing with some Albino Tigers, August has offered to give the drunk Raphael a ride to a place of his choosing.
 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
FRADULENT MEETING
LOCATION:
Central District, Plaza
TIME:
Post Arc-1 | September 21th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Boltius
FRADULENT MEETING

Looks like Boltius took the bait. Sang-Cheol let out an internal breath of relief, seeing that Boltius didn't seem to suspect anything out of the normal. If he ever got out of this alive, he would give everyone, except that fucker Olivine, a raise for helping him out through this difficult situation. He had to keep this up until the day was over. He was debriefed on the many situations of a date, and he wasn't afraid to bust out every single plan if it meant that he didn't violate the contract.

Though what was the arrogant look on Boltius's face? If Sang-Cheol weren't actively controlling his facial expression, he would have given a glimpse of disgust at Boltius. Maybe he shouldn't have judged a book by its cover, which would probably be accurate since Boltius looks like the type never to have read a book in his life before.

"That's fine; it's also been a while since I've been to an arcade," Sang-Cheol cheerfully said as he hid those thoughts in the back of his head. Now came the troubling part. He had never been to an arcade before. Maybe he went to one with Hyung before, but that was a fuzzy memory. They were too broke to even think of trying to play an arcade game. The reason he even suggested the arcade was...

"So, um, since we don't know about the man aside from his name that sounds dumb, why not take him to an arcade?" Timothy didn't take his eyes off of his monitor but was still giving half of his attention to Sang-Cheol

"An arcade?"

"Yeah, an arcade, why do you say it like as if-" Timothy suddenly slapped his forehead. "That's right, I forgot, you don't go outside that often." Turning his chair around to face, Sang-Cheol. "Are there any games you like to play, Matchsticks-nim? Like maybe Galxtica? Pekken? Maybe even a crane game?" Sang-Cheol gave Timothy a blank look that told him everything he needed.

Timothy let out a soft sigh, "In that case, you should follow his lead when you get to the arcade. Males usually like playing games, whether it be gambling or girls. Just try not to look too out of place."

The smile never left Sang-Cheol face as he started to follow Boltius- Wait, what. Why was he the one following Boltius? Wasn't he supposed to lead them to the arcade? Boltius seemed to realize his mistake as well. A sudden memory came into his head. Someone had told him to do a specific action whenever his partner made a silly mistake. What was it!? Think! Think!

"Matchsticks-nim! When your partner makes a silly mistake, giggle at them like this!" Covering her mouth with one of her hands, she let out a slight audible sound of amusement. Sang-Cheol could only stare at her as if she were a foreign species.

"What."

"It's so that the partner would feel embarrassed! This naturally loosens the boundaries as strangers and makes you two become friends!" The light in Gerda's eyes sickened Sang-Cheol, but he had no choice but to follow her advice. After all, out of everyone here, she seemed to be the most social, with Aristotle being a close second. Sang-Cheol didn't consider Olivine as a person as of right now.

"Gerda, I think that only works for" Before Timothy could finish his sentence, Gerda quickly silenced him. She shot a smile back at Sang-Cheol before taking Timothy away.

Sang-Cheol then proceeded to laugh at Boltius's little mistake. With a smile, he softly took Boltius's wrist with his hand. "It's right over here, Boltius" With his free hand, he pointed towards where the direction of the arcade. In that short time of improvisation, Sang-Cheol turned his brain off and was now wondering what he had just done.

He tugged Boltius into the arcade, leading him inside. "So, what game do you wanna play?" Sang-Cheol said as he looked over to the orange head, totally not cringing on the inside from what he did prior.


 
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Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
Why?
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
TIME:
Post Arc-1 | September 25th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Raphael
WHY

"Chemical ratios, check. Concentration, check. Temperature, check." Sang-Cheol checked off the requirements from his clipboard. Nodding his head, he set the clipboard down on the table; he grabbed a flask. The bubbling pot in front was almost ready to be placed in the purifier. All he needed was to add in the concoction he had made prior. Grabbing the flask, he walked back to the pot.

"Now, a few drops..." Sang-Cheol muttered to himself as he leaned the flask over-

"MATCHSTICKS-NIM! RAPHAEL IS HERE!"

Only to dump the entire contents of the flask into the bubbling pot. There was a moment of silence between Sang-Cheol and the newly arrived Aristotle. Setting down the flask onto the table, Sang-Cheol looked up and took a deep breath. Just his fucking day. He clenched his head before addressing Aristotle, "Is he in the lobby right now?" Aristotle gave him a nervous nod.

Walking up to Aristotle, he jabbed a finger into his chest, "Aristotle." Aristotle froze. Sang-Cheol then drew his finger right behind this, "That is your fucking problem now." With that, he left. Pushing open the door, it closed behind him, and he could hear the distinct sound of an explosion happening behind the doors, but he didn't care about it right now.

He had Raphael to deal with.

Before he entered the room, Sang-Cheol took a deep breath. He tidied up his appearance in a calming maneuver and rubbed his temples. It was time to enter in.

"Raphael, to what pleasure do I owe for your visit?" Sang-Cheol said in his calm voice. A sense of nervousness crept up his spine as he looked at Raphael.


 
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TAZZ (August August)
SCENE:
Osamu and Mina's Party Bash
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2 — September 25th, 2021: ??:?? PM
LOCATION:
Osamu's Crib, ??? District
PARTICIPANTS:
Osamu, Minato, Elias, Matsuda, August, Random NPCs
OSAMU AND MINA'S PARTY BASH
It was the evening of September 25th and August was just waking from a five-hour nap, hair a mess, wearing only his pajama pants. When he’d closed his eyes, light was still shining through the window blinds, but no longer. The room was dark now, only the scattered black squares of yet unpacked boxes visible in the lunar glow that leaked in.

His eyes fought to stay shut, closing and squinting back open then closing again. Then after some time of rubbing them, he was finally able to look around. When he did, he saw it… There, in the corner, the tall silhouette of a broad-shouldered man startled him to his feet.

Abruptly, a spiraling tornado of wind raced down August’s bare arm and shot toward the shadow, but quickly dissipated against August’s will, and he knew then who it was.

“D-Dad?” August exhaled deeply.

“‘Ello, Auggie,” said Augustus in a rich Amestralian accent—one much thicker than that of August’s—and stepped into the stripes of moonlight that became painted down his face, revealing a rather unpleasant smile.

Eeriness aside, August pointed awkwardly to the panel of buttons beside the bedroom door. “Uh, tha- You- Tha… You can turn on tha loights-”

“So, when’dja plan on tellin’ me all ya stuff’s gone, ay?”

The room fell as silent then as it was dark…

*wiggles fingers* TIMESKIP *wiggles fingers*

It was maybe half-an-hour later that the white-haired Tiger who was August, dubbed Tazz for gang business, could be viewed in all his slouched-gait glory dragging his feet down the concrete walk of an empty street.

He wore the same pajama pants with the addition of shoes and a baggy, pink sweater, and was headed nowhere. But if you asked his father, he was paying a late-night visit to a “friend’s” party. A lie, of course, for August did not party, but it was all he could think of in the moment to get away.

Something menacing loomed over him but he ignored it; looked the other way.

Ding-Ding~ Tolled the bell above the convenience store door through which the pajama-pantsed man stepped into the greasy atmosphere where the slightly burnt stench of hotdogs on the warmer wafted and blended with the emanating smoky musk of an old man coughing his lungs up at the check-out counter.

Delicious… August thought sarcastically. Though, he couldn’t judge… After all, he’d come here for a pack of cigarettes, himself. Lately, his habit had picked up, but he didn’t stress it and pondered, instead, where to next?

The pack of smokes hit the counter and the cashier asked, “Is that all for ya?”

August nodded and readied his card, glimpsing a rack of sunglasses in his peripheral. Mmm… He mused, biting his cheek, then settled on buying a pair, also tossing up a disposable mask, which the cashier scanned and politely announced his total.

Ding-Ding~ Bag in hand, he stepped out into the night once more and set off in the direction of Osamu’s party, figuring he might as well stop by and see what’s in stock. A guy so smart; he’s liable to have something valuable lying around. Slav Slav Elenion Aura Elenion Aura QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed
AUGUST NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (CLICK HERE) + Carrying a plastic bag containing a cheap pair of sunglasses and a disposable face-mask

— —Call him Tazz! (Those who know his real name are: Isobel, Camila, Lucy, Markus, Elias, and Raphael)

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Osamu and Minato are throwing a party! Some have already shown, but August is just deciding to head that way. He's more interested in whether or not Osamu's got anything of rare value lying around.
 
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DYNE ENJYRE
SCENE:
Nightlife Tryst
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2—2021, September 19th—9:10 PM
LOCATION:
South District's Nightlife District, East-side
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Dyne Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
Nightlife Tryst
<< Previous Post

Boltius' growl rose a cordoned smile as Dyne stuck just a tad closer to the young man. A little jealousy was attractive, particularly when encouraged and hinted on. She took the ID without a glance at the bouncer. A relationship had to go two ways~

They entered a world of neon caterwauls, loud music, and scents one better off not familiar with. It sparked nostalgia of a time long passed, but she cringed at the mention of a hot-tub. Really, it was practically skin disease waiting to erupt. It was good that her Darling had enough sense to not take her there. Dyne narrowed her eyes. Of course, if he did later...

The bar with its shelves of colorful bottles and dim neon light fit right into the rest of the bar. Dyne took an empty chair, smiling somewhat amusedly at the notion of having some beer.

"Something with strawberry schnapp, darling!" She giggled, ordering before nudging Boltius with her elbow. "Feel free to take beer if you aren't used to something stronger, darling. I won't judge."

Or so she said. Her blazer drooped forward as Dyne leaned against the counter, peering to those orange eyes with a smile half-teasing in intent.

>>Next Post
 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Park-Time Recreation
LOCATION:
Pre-Arc 1—2015, June 20th (Saturday)—1:00 PM
LOCATION:
Upper Central, Central Park...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Milo, Matsuda, Nanami (NPC)
PARK-TIME RECREATION
Milo woke up. The sunlight seeped in through the open window and pooled along his criss-crossed forearms. As his eyes adjusted to their newfound wakefulness, they focused first on the canvas before them, drying in the sun. Slowly, the memories returned. The contest. He must've dozed off working on his submission. He frowned. The colors still weren't right. And the composition felt flat. Lifeless. It was just... Wrong.

Huffing, Milo shoved away from his desk and wheeled himself to the windowsill to stare dully out at the world as it passed him by. Why was he doing this contest again? To build his portfolio. Why did he have to build his portfolio again? All the best art schools expect their students to have a sizable portfolio before they even think about applying... Why did he want to go to art-school again?

He sighed. On a whim he whipped his phone out of his pocket and swiped to the home screen. At that moment, Bolt's text came through. Until then, his mind had still been half-asleep. But when the realization dawned, Park, Friends, Today, Milo could not have been more awake

"SHIT!"

He cursed all the way around his room as he pulled on a fresh pair of clothes, wiped the paint off of his face—leaving blue smudges in their place—and bounded out the door... Only to return moments later and snatch up his satchel, paints, brushes, and his canvas. One never knew when fresh inspiration might strike.

He checked his watch. He was still late. Even later now, in fact.

"Shit!"


Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Milo timed his internal mantra with each pedal stroke, and before long he was skidding to a halt beside Boltius, as a thin layer of sweat began to bead his brow. "H..." He stopped himself short, swinging off his bike mid-pedal before fully dismounting and coming to a complete stop before he tried to speak. Trying to hide his breathlessness, he began again.

"Hey, bro..!" Casual, deep breath. "Sorry I'm late. Where's Matsu and Nanami?"

MILO'S NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (X) + His satchel

— —Milo has been working on an art piece for an upcoming competition. He's been focusing a lot on his art over the summer.

— —Milo rides his bike around the city a lot of the time. He hitched it to a bike rack at the entrance to the park.

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: It's a warm Summer day and the boys, Matsuda, Milo, Boltius, and Nanami have decided to meet up at Central Park in the Central District. A very casual, slice-of-life event
.

 
MASKED BANDIT "M"
SCENE:
Late-Night Chase
TIME:
Nighttime, post-arc 1
LOCATION:
Aksher Co. offices, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Minato Masked Bandit "M"
LATE-NIGHT CHASE
As the woman crumpled, the Minato who'd struck her cringed, not really liking the sound that her face had made. But then he looked down at how she'd fallen, all crumpled like a broken folding chair, and giggled a little.

”Heh. Check it.” He pointed out the funny way she'd fallen to another Mina, and they both laughed about it together as the hauled her off to the conference room to be with her friend. At least, Minato assumed they were friends. Actually, they were probably just coworkers... Best to leave a bit of a gap. Don't want any awkward reunions, in case they didn't know each other like that.

BOOM!

All the Minas flinched at the Boom!, even if it was more of a Crash! than a Boom! But, then again...

The Minas were split on whether it had been a Boom! or a Crash! that had rattled the floor beneath their many pairs of feet. But they were all in agreement as to the source. Their time was running out, and they planned to make the most of it.

One unlucky Mina who'd been rifling through some drawers heard the sound of heavy footfalls fast approaching. At the sound of the voice, the Mina dropped the file he'd been holding—it had been junk anyway—and raised his hands in surrender.

As he processed Charlie's words, the Mina licked his lips then smiled. ”They're in there!” He chirped happily, pointing with one raised hand at a conference room, before he went scrambling in the opposite direction, hopping over desks and knocking over chairs as he tried to clear out of Charlie's warpath.

Meanwhile, the myriad other Minas were collecting their due.

 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Troubled Meeting
TIME:
Post Arc 1, Pre Arc 2- 2021, September 24
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael, Orion
TROUBLED MEETING
Raph hated a of things. He hated a lot of people, too. But he couldn't think of anyone he hated more right now than this stupid fucker who couldn't be bothered to watch where the fuck he was going.

What do you mean, I wasn't watching where I was going, either?

Though it were true, Raph would've never admitted it. He'd been daydreaming. Thinking about... Never mind that!

Sorry are you?" Raph mocked, swatting the man's helping hand away. Get your grubby paws away from me, he hissed in the silence of his mind as he glared up at the figure of the unfamiliar man who'd tripped him up. Raph stood on his own, pocketing the phone he'd been face-down only moments prior, jostling past civilians and gang-members alike as he trudged towards his destination. A destination that was now all-but forgotten.

He glared at the man who stood before him, now, tilting his head this way and that, like a Serpent might taste the air, as though sizing up his next meal. You think you're sorry? Raph smirked as he thought of the man's half-hearted apology. Not good enough. Not nearly good enough. No, this man wasn't sorry for bumping him. Not yet, anyway.

But you will be, Raph vowed silently to himself as he clenched his hands into fists. How many fights had he been in this week? This month? This year? Or, perhaps, was it all the same fight, and the spaces of time between were just short intermissions. That would mean his true opponent... Was Life, itself.

Fitting, really.

Not that Raph minded. He was used to the war, by now. It was a snake-eat-snake world in the North. He'd always known that, even before he'd grown fangs of his own. The only difference between now and then was that now, at least, he could bite back. And bite he would. Although, from the looks of the run-down man before him, someone had already beaten him to the punch.

Raph smirked at his own little pun, but that didn't change the fact that the man who'd offered him a helping-hand looked like he was in need of a helping hand of his own. Or, he had been in need of it. There was no sight of whomever had done this to him. They were, as far as Raph could see, nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered. He wasn't in the business of handing out charity, as it were. If he'd been there when this poor fool was getting the snot kicked out of him, he was just as liable to join in on the kicking as he was to come to the poor man's aid. The decision would've been based solely on how Raph had felt in that moment.

“Well, anyway. ~ Despite how terrible you look, I'm afraid I'm not going to make this any easier on you. No pulled punches just 'cause you're already scuffed up. You undestand, don't you? ~"

Raph cooed viciously as blood trickled up his forearm and beaded around his knuckles. He was thinking of that day again, of the bowling alley, of what came after... His blood boiled at the thought. Despite looking high and low, he'd found neither hide nor hair of the wretched coward who'd stolen his victory from him. Nor had he seen Bash since then. And so, he'd been left for the most part to simply stew in his own rage, as he counted the minutes before he could take his revenge... Unfortunately, Raph was not a patient man, and what little reserves he had were all but dried up. There would need to be a more radical intervention soon, lest he start acting... Rash.

Perhaps another round was just what the doctor ordered!


 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Carmine Consort
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 || 2017
LOCATION:
Outside of Chaturunga Taphouse, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael, Peyton
CARMINE CONSORT
As he stood over the corpse of a man he’d just flayed, his blood mixing with the dirt of the alley and the blood of his victim, Raph found himself wondering. Did this man have a family? He nudged the corpse’s lifeless foot with the toe of his boot as the tails of steam curled off of the body like spectral tendrils reaching up to heaven. Raph turned his gaze on the handful of bodies strewn across the ground, now slick with gore. Do any of them have families? Do all of them? Spouses? Children? Loved ones of all shapes and sizes?..

He hoped so. Raph clucked his tongue with delight. Destroy life, feel alive. That was his motto, now. And tonight, Raph was feeling very, oh so very, alive.

A flash of movement from out of his peripherals snapped Raph out of his blood-drunkenness, his euphoric trance as he watched the light drain from the eyes of the people he killed. They deserved it, after all. After what they’d done to him. For granting him the gift of power, this blood-soaked massacre was their reward!

Just as the fleeing scientist started to feel a sliver of hope swell in his breast, as if he might actually run fast enough to escape his fate, the bloody tether that Raph had looped around his ankle as he’d passed by snapped taut. The man fell flat on his face as the noose around his leg tightened, dragging him back through the mire until Raph’s boot found the flat of his back.

“Imagine dying in a place like this. It’s… Pathetic, really."

It was then that Raph became aware of the fact that the portly scientist trapped in his web was trying to say something, but kept losing his words as the bloody slurry in which his face lay half-buried in choked the air from his lungs. Groaning, Raph flipped the man on his back so that he might speak. So long as he did it quickly. So long as he had something interesting to say. But, then again, perhaps that was too much to ask for from this crowd. After all, Raph thought with a wry grin as he gazed around the back alley once more, they were just a bunch of stiffs.

The scientist half-spoke, half-wailed, as tears stung his rosy-red cheeks. Annoyed, Raph planted a heavy boot on his chest.

“What? Sorry! Can’t hear you. Speak up, darling. ~"

”Wh-…” The man’s voice trembled in that way that voices do when they’re holding back tears. It was… Repulsive. ”WH-WHAT DO YOU WANT? Y-you people? I-IS IT MONEY? W-… I can get you money! I-I-I… P-please, don’t kill me… Just tell me what you WANT.”

Raph paused, as though considering this. What did he want? Was it money? He tapped a finger against his bottom lip, as though mulling things over, until at last he leveled his gaze on the cornered pig once more and, with a smile, whispered, “I want to show you what you’re made of ~"

And he did.


Breathe in… Death smells awful.

Breathe out. Raph’s hands trembled and he couldn’t make them stop. He felt like he wanted to scream, to cry, and to disappear in exactly that order. Then he heard a voice. The voice reminded him that, at least he wasn’t alone here in hell.

“Careful, darling ~" Raph cooed, once again all easy confidence and murderous swagger. “Unless you’d like to be next."




 
Kisara McDowell
SCENE:
Omnia et Vanitas
LOCATION:
High Rise Building, ???
PARTICIPANTS:
Raph, Kisara
Omnia et Vanitas

yo prinz


new fone who dis​


its jackal, man


who


ooh wait


the dude from kaiten?​


yea


wats up w/ u


hvnt seen u at kaiten in a whil


ok?


kinda creepy ngl


i hv a pinstagram if u wna follow​


not wat i mean bro


1VCJOq8SalsBQhGYOwrXWQIz6z8R7PujMAXe0bbSIuvCSXZuOWT7Ms6_I7UVYhTS8RaLkDsYKyfZUwtR8Z4ArOPpYfeVEwn4S5Vt49nO-jjqCCd2HD1skVW-YM-Wwd46dB7Bh1ChD6sPDYR9KQ


damn


anwy whts up​


u hvnt been around


ppl been wondering


we gt a few matchs ltr


i thnk ull love it


ehh​


oop


g2g


wiat​


hmu if u wna mc or smth 2nite ok?


bro


bro?​







She sighed, and shoved her phone back into her pocket. She stared up into the towering buildings in the distance. She wanted to go back, she wanted to get back to brawling on the blood-caked sands of Kaiten, she truly, truly, enjoyed every second she spent there. She just…didn’t feel like it for the time being. She swung her legs to and fro from atop the parapet she sat on, pondering on her state. She was just…down. She always figured that sitting up somewhere high, staring down at the people, and thinking was a good practice to calm herself down. Clear her head. Keep moving. Keep running. After all these years of wandering, she had come back to find that the old gang had gone their separate ways. Bash, Jackie, Minny, they were all gone. She had hoped they would have stuck together, through thick and thin, even without her around. Even when she was with them, she always felt that she was the odd one out. Horns, weird eyes, weird skin. Even though they made her feel like she was part of them, even if Minato was her friend first, she was…never really part of them. She didn’t care though. She was happy that she had gotten to be friends with them. She would have been happier to be friends with them again.


She had met many new friends after she had joined the Serpents, that much she knew, but she wasn’t as close to them as she was to the old gang. They were all a bunch of weirdos, and that was okay. She just didn’t feel as if she gelled with them, exactly. Like dry tissue paper against a wall, she just didn’t stick with any particular one of them. Anna was strange, and always wore her mask around the place, and looked like she was just actively avoiding contact with anyone in particular. The King and Queen were just kind of…there. They did what they wanted, and nothing and no one else mattered to them. Bash was the one busy running their errands for them, and he had been too busy to play with her. There was also Raphie. He was gloomy, kind of a jerk, but he was always funny. He was always fun. He reminded her of Bash, if he wasn’t so violent. All of the Serps lived their own lives, uncaring of what and who got in their way, and she loved them for it. Raphie, however, was different. She had his scent the moment she met him.


He just wanted to do things his own way, more so than anyone else, because he hated to be told what to do, hated the world.


That hatred stirred something in her. That was pure passion, and she loved it.


There was something else, though. There was a hint of sadness in there. The bitterness, the hatred, everything stemmed from that sorrow. Or something like that. She wasn’t the type to play psychoanalyst, or however it was spelled. She swung away from the ledge, and back to safety. She was, however, bored, and she wanted someone to go out and paint the town red with her for the day. Maybe he was free or something. She rummaged in her pocket, and extracted her phone once more. She wondered if she couldn't call in a few favours. There were a few Serpent mooks who followed her on her various accounts, and she might be able to coerce some information out of them. She got to tapping away at her phone.


5 minutes. 5 minutes was all it took, before she was hit with DMs on Bluebird, and all it took was a promise of a handful of tickets to an overseas show starring Passeri Park, and a shoutout in her next stream. Raphie was lurking around a lab in the South. Not swamped in work, she hoped. She leapt off her seat as a couple of security guards finally burst through the elevator. She waved at them and smiled. "Thanks for callin' the elevator~"


"Ma'am, respectfully, you can't sit on the parapet." One of them sighed as she walked past them. Neither made an attempt to stop her, probably realising that whatever they were going to do was in vain now anyway.


"Yeah, I know. Sorry!" She slid into the elevator, turned around, clapped her hands together and bowed in apology.. "I was just clearin' my head a little! You'll let me off this time, right? I've got a date I should be catching up with."


"Simon–" the younger security guard started.


"Yeah, sure, whatever, miss. Just don't do that again."


"Okies~!" She shot up straight, and gave a cheerful wave as the doors began to shut on her.


"She comes here all the time. Just…leave her alone," she heard the older security guard say, just as the elevator closed fully and started to descend. She punched her fists together. Alright, time to start operation...Something or another with Raphael Shaw!



Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
SCENE:
The Koi Pond
LOCATION:
A park, somewhere in Eastside uptown
PARTICIPANTS:
Shen &Hou
The Koi Pond


It had been easy getting into the city undetected by the gangs, Hou was a smuggler after all, and Marnie had told him that it would be best to keep a low profile until he found a member of the dragons he could trust, still, he realized, as he thought about it, he didn't actually know how to recognize a dragon.

Thinking about this little quandary deeply, he didn't realize he had wandered into a small park. When he finally looked up, he was right smack in the center of it, and even Hou, then, had to take it in properly: It was well-kept, with trimmed bushes filled with sweet-smelling flowers, the white concrete path curved, narrowing and widening in a natural, artistic way, hugged by flower beds filled with tulips, roses, petunias. On the far side, a bamboo grove too over from the flowers, and shaded a series of benches. A vendour stood there with a brightly-coloured cart, selling some sort of candy and ice cream. Papyrus plants sprouted from the shallows of an ornamental stream, their pompom-like heads waving in the breeze.

Hou followed the path, and the stream to an intricate stone bride and peered into the water of a wide pond with a frown.
"Man, how the heck am I supposed to find him?" He muttered quietly to himself.

Suddenly, movement under the water caught his eye, and he drew in a deep breath.
"OH MY GOD! There are real fish in here!"
This was followed by an ecstatic crow and a drastic look around for anyone who would listen.
"They're so cool!"

The koi, for all that they could hear him, ignored him, and continued their lazy float back and forth just beneath the surface, a festival of white, gold, red and black.
Hou watched their backs, mesmerized by their swimming, and parade of patterns and colours that swam right under his feet.
He was so taken by them that he wouldn't have noticed a single person approach until they were right beside him.





 
BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)
SCENE:
Fraudulent Meeting
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2—2021, September 21st—After 4:00 PM
LOCATION:
His Apartment >> ??? District, Plaza...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Sang-Cheol Misuteeku Misuteeku
FRAUDULENT MEETING
The Central District Plaza was the city’s heart for bustling life. People coursed its shops and stops like blood through a racehorse’s veins. Boutiques, haberdasheries, cafés, bookstores, vintage toy stores, vinyl record shops—it had anything and everything. It was a hub for teenagers looking for a first-time job, a gift-buyer or collector’s honeypot, a habitual spender’s heaven, and a great place to indulge in leisure.

Boltius enjoyed such atmospheres. In the unsettling silence of a library or doctor’s office, he often felt painfully self-aware. He could hear himself swallow and every subtle clearing of the throat was like a guttural holler—reminding of lunch detention during school when even chewing a pea with one’s mouth closed meant being heard.

Just then, a giggle tore the Phoenix from his thoughts and Boltius looked toward its source—Sang-Cheol. Did he just-

Sang-Cheol took Bolt’s wrist and pointed in the direction of the arcade. “It's right over here, Boltius.”

Boltius looked at the hand holding him, “Uh…”

Sang-Cheol pulled him along and he half-willfully matched in stride. “O-... kay.” Then when they reached the arcade and Sang-Cheol asked Boltius what they should play first, Boltius casually pulled his wrist out of the other’s grip and adjusted his bracelet whilst taking in the surroundings, humming in thought.

He saw Pac-Man, Space Invaders, Battlezone, Air Hockey, Pinball, Boxer Cube, crane machines and more, but what really caught his eye was Dance Dance Revolution.

Following some deliberation, he settled, first, for something simple. The House of the Dead. A horror-themed light gun shooter game that he favored when he was younger. He recalled playing it with Vulken many times and never winning.

Pointing, Boltius said, “How ‘bout that?” And he began approaching the machine. He found his wallet and pulled out a five-dollar bill, “Gotta get some change…” Leaving then returning, his pocket was now weighted with quarters, four of which he fed into the zombie-shooter machine—two on one side; two on the other for Sang-Cheol. With that, the machine lit up and came to life, reading off instructions on the screen.

Boltius picked up his gun and grinned, scoffing a laugh, “This is stupid as hell… But whoever gets the most kills wins.” Looking at Sang-Cheol, he cocked a brow, “Whaddya say? I'm pretty good at shootin' ball, too, so we can hit the little hoop thing over there next, or... That dance game looks fun, too... I'm actually a dance choreographer, believe it or not. I mean- Pfft, I doubt that shit's genuine,” he gesturing toward the Dance Dance Revolution, “But it could still be fun.”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (X) + His usual bling/jewelry

— —Tattoo Reference (X)

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

— —Bolt's Apartment (X)

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Several days ago, before the events of Arc-1 on September 17th, Boltius was approached by a stranger seeking his friendship. This stranger wrote up a contract agreement, which Boltius signed promising he would meet the stranger for a fun day on the town, that day being today.
 
Roland.png
Roland Dreyer
Scene: The concrete that breaks our fall
Location: Paragon Hall, West District
Time: January 2010 | Pre-Arc 1
Participants: Elenion Aura Elenion Aura (Markus)

Inhale.

There were many things that Roland was not. For one, he was not a good cook. Ask him to cook a pot of rice and it was likely to end up looking more like pudding. He was also cursed with black thumbs and every plant he had tried to take care of inevitably ended up withered and dead.

That said, if you could summarize Roland into one word it would be 'winner'.

Exhale.

Roland never lost. If you asked him how he does it he might tell you that it's luck or that he has the fates looking down on him. The fact of the matter is, Roland was simply very good at what he did. Of course, having the potential he did certainly helped but his opponents will tell you that his mind was far more formidable. Always analyzing. Always calculating. Always three steps ahead of everyone.

Standing - or rather sitting - in the middle of Paragon's Hall, across the arena from Markus, Roland already knew what the outcome of this fight would be. If he had a choice Roland would have preferred not to fight, but Markus was too arrogant and headstrong, to even consider that an option. So, Markus would learn and he would be put in his place.

Pushing himself off the ground, Roland dusted off his pants slowly rolled out the tension in his shoulders as the crowd cheered around them. In the center, Pascal removed his silver cape with a flourish and held it high above his head. It was all that was needed to silence the audience. "May the best man win." With a wink, he tossed the cape high into the air and as it floated back down, the blonde haired man was already gone.

Kicking off, Roland took off at sprint straight ahead. As he did, he pressed a hand to his chest and shouted
"SPEED."
 
Last edited:
Peyton Xiong
SCENE:
Carmine Consort
LOCATION:
Outside of Chaturunga Taphouse, North District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 || 2017
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Raphael
Carmine Consort
The look on Raphael's face was splendid: A dark look of rapture as he stood in a pile of corpses, living his best life. He was a monster that nobody should mess with. After all, play with fire, and you get burned. But Peyton didn't mind getting a little charred.

"Please do," Peyton said with narrowed eyes and a sly, inviting smile, "It'd be wicked cool to match up against you."

Peyton had meant it in jest, but deep down inside, Peyton realized he wouldn't have minded if he faced off against Raphael. A battle with him would be thrilling. Beast against beast, going at each other until they were satiated.

It was a dangerous thought. Peyton forced down the feelings of giddiness and bloodshed, trying to regain control over his body and thoughts. It hadn't been long since Peyton had awoken to his newfound abilities. He hadn't yet reconciled the two halves that Peyton suddenly found in himself-- the monsterous, bloodthirsty half and the chipper bookworm. As he stagged himself back into control, he stared around at the death around him. The piles of dead bodies around him seemed almost unreal. Peyton didn't feel bad for them though, he shouldn't feel bad for them. They had made an enemy of the Serpents, and so they would've died anyway even if it wasn't Peyton who killed them. He didn't know them, they didn't know him; Peyton had no reason to feel pity. But was that him speaking, or was it the virus running through his veins?

One of the researchers weakly raised their arm, and Peyton turned his rifle on them, firing a single shot. The blast caused the researcher's body to physically jolt, the sidewalk cracking where the bullet made its impact.

Peyton took a deep unsteady breath. Damn. It was too difficult to keep his virus under wraps. The red was electrifying, the smell of blood intoxicating. Thoughts of morals waged war in his mind. He could afford to let his inner monster out just a little. It would be less painful that way.

"You know, you're real cool when you're fighting," Peyton said, playfully bumping his hip against Raph. He circled around the hemomancer until he was at the man's other side, staring up at his face, at which point he noticed Raph's shaking. Peyton's scampish demeanor faltered. He took one of Raph's bloodied hands in his own bloodstained hand and said, "You're shaking. Do you want to sit down? Or do you actually need to tear me apart until you feel better?"

Peyton's words were an offer. An invitation if he wanted. Peyton looked down at their feet, at the blood that trickled down the crevices of the sidewalk. There was no chance either of them were going to heaven when they died.



Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
BLITZ (Boltius Beckman)
SCENE:
Nightlife Tryst
TIME:
Post-Arc 1/Pre-Arc 2—2021, September 19th—9:00 PM
LOCATION:
South District's Nightlife District, East-side...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Dyne Damafaud Damafaud
NIGHTLIFE TRYST
“Strawberry, huh?” Boltius smiled suggestively. He gestured with his chin at the mixologist and told her, “The lady’ll have a Juicy Screw.” Juicy Screw being a combination drink of strawberry schnapps, vodka, orange juice, and tonic water served in a highball glass with large cubes of ice. A tall, peach-colored drink that told the story of summer evenings and bachelorette parties.

He knew it well—not because it was something he personally preferred, but because he possessed a tendency to nag the mixologists wherever he went for specialties and house favorites. He said it expanded his palette; broadened his horizon.

The mixologist nodded at the request and awaited Bolt’s choice of drink.

He said to Dyne, “Nah, chick, I’mma have what you’re havin’. I drink it all. And if I ain’t tried it before, I’mma try it then.”

Turning to the mixologist, he held up his index and middle finger and told her, “Make it two Screws.” Then she was off with an affirmative, “On it!”

While they waited, Boltius matched Dyne in leaning on the counter, still standing. And he met her eyes with a charming smile, but didn’t hold it too long before speaking, “You’re damn gorgeous, you know that?... So, what do you do, chick?...” A wisecrack rose in his throat, but when he recalled her reaction to his previous comment on her clothes, he decided against it and instead awaited her answer. Meanwhile, the mixologist could be seen preparing their beverages on the sideline.

“You got a job or somethin’? You ain’t gotta tell me ‘boutcha boy-toy, or whatever you was talkin’ about earlier. No need to sour your tongue—Unless we’re talking with drinks. But tell me about yourself.”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —What he's wearing (X) + Black/Silver Earrings, Rings, and Chains rather than his usual golden. The pink shirt is tied around his waist by the sleeves, leaving him in a grey tank top.

— —Tattoo Reference (X)

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

— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Boltius Beckman of the Scarlet Phoenixes and Dyne Enjyre of the Azure Dragons happen upon each other in the outskirts of the South's Nightlife District. A woman like Dyne is of a higher standard than what Boltius is used to, but he hopes he can charm her.
 
MINATO MAEDA
SCENE:
"Two" is Company
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, July 20th 2021
LOCATION:
Camila's Apartment, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Minato
"TWO" IS COMPANY
”Aha. Sounds like a date! Sure, sure. I'm down.”

Minato had responded in kind. He'd never been one to pass on a free meal, regardless of the circumstances surrounding it.

Their job had been easy, which was nice. Easy jobs were his favorite. Even better if the job was easy and high-paying. This one had been a fair bit of both, and the taste of all that cash hitting his account right about now had left Mina with a sweet, sweet taste in his mouth. He felt like he ought to chase that feeling for a little bit longer... And so, here he was.

As he followed his partner in crime across the threshold of her swanky abode, Mina let out a low whistle as his eyes traced the boundaries of the space with a practiced gaze.

”Sweet digs, Camie.” Minato said. And he just might've meant it, too. As Camila sashayed to the kitchen, Mina stretched both arms over his head and let out a long, lazy yawn before he set his mind to the question at hand. Drink. He could go for a drink! Sure. Why not? But he didn't really have a go-to order, so...

”Dealer's choice!” He said with a little giggle as he plopped his behind down on her sofa, draping his arms along its back. ”Just don't roofie me, 'kay?” He asked jokingly, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

I wonder what's about to happen? Guess there's only one way to find out!


 
MINATO MAEDA
SCENE:
Osamu's and Mina's Party Bash
TIME:
September 25th, 2021|Post Arc-1
LOCATION:
Osamu's Mina's Crib
PARTICIPANTS:
Osamu, Minato, Matsuda, August, Elias
OSAMU'S AND MINA'S PARTY BASH
There were already many Minas at Osamu and Mina's Party Bash. They had arrived earlier than most of the guests—though still late enough that Osamu had been left wondering after their absence—each with their arms full of emergency, contingency booze. After all, he had a sinking feeling that the party might get a little crazier than either of them might've intended (he might've invited a whole bunch more people while he was out).

”Yo, 'Samu! We're back!” A Minato called as others began to unload their boozy haul into the large, double-door fridge, and when it was full, coolers and the like. Another Minato happened to glance at the callbox, where a tiny screen displayed what appeared to be some early party-guests. His lips quirked into a smile. Let the games begin, bro.

A short while later, Minato burst out of the door that lead into the lobby where the mulling crowd of soon-to-be partygoers milled about, murmuring to themselves. ”Ay-yo! Everybody!” Taking a quick count of heads, the Minato barely suppressed a frown. Less than half of what he'd been hoping for. But still! The partier must party on, bro. He clapped his hands together and bowed exaggeratedly before popping back up to his full height. He started bouncing on the balls of his feet, as though he had nowhere for all of his excess energy to go, and so it just vacillated back and forth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

”Yo, 'Thank you all wholeheartedly for comin' out to rage with li'l old us! Follow me, and I'll lead you to the promised land, yo.” He turned and sauntered back the way he'd come, his head bopping to imaginary music. A thought suddenly struck him like a static shock. Turning over his shoulder as he walked, Mina spoke to the throng of partygoers in his wake. ”Oh, 'case you get lost. Just head 'fer the nearest elevator n' we're tha' top two floors.”

Another short while later and Minato and his newfound entourage burst into the penthouse apartment to the sound of a sick, churning baseline. Their arrival elicited cheers, whoops, and hollers of elation from the various other Minas that dotted their abode, as the shepherd Mina splayed his arms, inviting their guests to look upon the splendor that was their dope ass crib.

”Party's here!!” A Minato shouted in a sing-song voice as another started directing party guests to the drink station, as all at once, the alcohol began to flow, and the music began to bump. The festivities had officially begun.

MINATO'S NOTES​
— —SCENE DESCRIPTION: Osamu and Minato are throwing a party! An army of Minas brought back booze aplenty (as if Osamu didn't already have enough lying around the place). Another Mina went down and escorted the on-time party guests (including Elias, Ronald, and August) up to their crib. Though, that doesn't mean stragglers can't drift on in! ~


 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Lost on Bourbon
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, 1AM, June 5th 2021
LOCATION:
???
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Boltius Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
LOST ON BOURBON

Hector sat slumped on the floor, remaining silent as the Doctor left. He was still trying to process what he said when Boltius interrupted his thought. He blinked at him slowly.

"I feel like shit. I don't know what the fuck is going on, man." The strange location, the strange masked man, the shackles, it was all too much to comprehend immediately. A new feeling was rising in Hector though, a common one for him. Anger. Furrowing his brows, Hector snapped. "Why didn't you do anything? You just let him talk shit." He looked back at the door, "Is this a fucking joke?" He half expected a group of drunk friends to pop out at this very moment, with a camera to commemorate the occasion.

"I'm gonna kill him, Bolt. And if you played a part in this I'm gonna kill you after." Hector finally sat up straight, and tugged on the restraints, as if that would help. He lacked the energy to use his full strength, and his hands flopped back by his side.

Suddenly, a shrill scream echoed from outside, muffled by the heavy door in place. The scream continued for a few seconds before falling silent as quickly as it began. Hector tried the restraints again to no avail.
"What the fuck."
 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
FRADULENT MEETING
LOCATION:
Central District, Plaza
TIME:
Post Arc-1 | September 21th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Boltius
FRADULENT MEETING

Wait. It worked.

Sang-Cheol didn't turn back to face Boltius as he wanted to avoid showing the look of confusion he was wearing on his face. Gerda wasn't bullshitting him after all. Is this how people got along with each other? Giggling at each other and smiling? The sheer thought of it made his stomach ache. People like Gerda were scary if they did this all the time. Does this mean King and Boss did it as well?

Not wanting to imagine that nightmare fuel, Sang-Cheol focused on the date at hand. "Hmmm? Yeah, that sounds good." Turning around, he smiled and nodded his head. If he remembered correctly, based on Timothy's advice, he should follow Boltius's lead once they arrived at the arcade. Due to a lack of information and experience, it would look awkward otherwise.

He watched as Boltius inserted cash into a machine. There was an odd feeling in his head; it was as if he had forgotten something important. However, he didn't have time to ponder it since the game was about to start. Copying Boltius's movements, he also picked up the gun. It was light, and the design was a little tacky. Holding the gun as he would with his handgun, he pointed it at the screen. Though to others watching, it looked like he was striking some poses as he adjusted his aim. After a while, he brought it down and looked at the gun.

Two big hands were clasped onto his shoulder. Aristotle loomed over him before bending his back to make eye contact. "Matchsticks-nim," Aristotle said in his booming voice. Sang-Cheol almost wanted to punch the radiating smile off of the older man's face.

"To sway a crowd, you must act with confidence." Putting his behind, Sang-Cheol's back, he brought him to a mirror. Straightening up Sang-Cheol's posture, they both looked at the mirror. "The first step in winning the hearts of many with a winning smile, like this." Showing off his clean, white teeth, Aristotle looked like a T.V. Salesman from the 90s. "How about you try?"

Sang-Cheol sighed but looked at the mirror. It didn't look too hard; all he had to was show all of his teeth. He could see Aristotle flinch in the mirror's reflection by flashing his set of teeth. Was there something wrong?

"Let's take a step back, Matchsticks-nim." Aristotle quickly said, noticing Sang-Cheol's souring mood. "Instead of smiling like, how about smiling like this?"

"Sure, but please go easy on me. It's my first time playing a game like this." Sang-Cheol smiled; his lips were curved to make a slight smile. "Yeah, that also sounds good! We can try the DDR next if you'd like." Everything seemed to be going smoothly. While Sang-Cheol didn't know how to dance, he imagined it couldn't be too difficult. Though he would like the deal with that latter, the game was about to start.

All he had to do was shoot the zombie; that sounded simple enough. The moment a zombie showed up, Sang-Cheol immediately shot it down. It was a bit annoying that it took more than one shot, but he would have to deal with it. Reloading was also strange, but it was faster than loading in another mag.

To think his firearm experience would be used on a video game. A visage of the easy-going, cheerful Sang-Cheol had vanished. What was replaced was the 'professional' Sang-Cheol as he gunned down a majority of the zombies down and reloaded off the side quickly before firing again.

When the game was over, Sang-Cheol relaxed. "Well, that was fun." Sang-Cheol said as his grin popped back up. While he didn't find too much joy in playing video games, it was a little more entertaining when competing with someone. It also didn't help that the only competition at Lab Icarus was Timothy was way too good at games.

 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
It's The Thought That Counts
LOCATION:
Darius's Apartment, North District
TIME:
September 17 2021, Post-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Ten @gxxberkit
IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS

Right now he didn't feel like a good person, let alone a great person like Ten said. Darius wished he could just trust Ten's words, and believe that everything was going to be fine with them by his side. But even though he trusts them more than he trusts anyone else, his mind wouldn't let him believe any of it.

He had just been in a fight with a rival gang member and assaulted a member of his own gang afterwards. He couldn't even estimate the number of deaths that occurred around him. How could Ten make things okay, just by being there for him? They were an innocent face among the drug dealers and killers that surrounded him. They were uncorrupted - in Darius's eyes at least. He couldn't drag Ten into this, even if they wanted to be a part of it.

"Ten-" Darius stopped himself from interrupting as Ten continued. Suddenly, at the mention of being found, Darius squirmed out of Ten's grip in a sudden frenzy. "Wait, shit." He staggered away from Ten's hold in the general direction of the front door. He really didn't have time to chat, not after he'd forgotten to lock the door behind him.

The keys rattled as Darius tried to push them through the lock after he found the door. He almost dropped them in his hurry but eventually slotted them into the lock. He felt around the frame until he found the other latches, which he closed over the door for extra protection. That was better. He shoved the keys into his pocket and turned back around to Ten.

The house didn't feel much more secure than it did, but any little bit of reassurance was good. An HP could still knock down his door if they wanted to, and plenty of Serpents knew his address. Perhaps Raph had recovered and was marching to his apartment right now.

"I can't let him find me. You just need to listen to me, Ten. There's no way for me to fix this... Do you think we could turn the light on, just a little? I need to see what I'm doing."
 

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