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

[The Crimson King]

Hanji Fumikage

CS Link

SCENE:

Acrophobia

LOCATION:

Alleyway in the east district

TIME:

2009

PARTICIPANTS:

Kaede Shimōkobe, Fumikage Hanji

Acrophobia

Bleach OST - Nothing Can Be Explained
The darkness of the east district at night is no stranger to Hanji. The sights, the smells, he knew them all well. The black sky contrasts the pale full moon that hangs in the sky, like a gazing eye. The younger Fumikage Hanji steps down a side street, taking a shortcut home from The Jade Temple, a brothel where he would go to speak with his late mother and father's associates, as well as to study. An unlit cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth, seemingly forgotten.

Holding a handful of books, an assortment of different informative nonfiction topics, the boy's golden eyes illuminate clairvoyance. He feels anxious, a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek, knowing his mentor is not far behind, and is likely watching him at this very moment. Hanji's first reaction at hearing running footsteps is to recoil, bracing himself for another round of live combat training. His expression exhibits confusion when he sees no one around, looking for the source of the fast falling sound. He glances down the adjacent alley when he hears the distinct series of metallic sounds a fence may produce when it is pushed against, or perhaps, climbed. He walks slowly, methodically, peering down the open area. He tilts his head at the sight of a girl around his age, lying on the pavement on the other side of the fence. The cigarette falls from his mouth.

He steadily approaches his own side of the fence, and opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by her immediate sprint in the direction of another stranger that he sees now for the first time, a man, whom she seemed to be pursuing, as he is also running rather fast, as if trying to escape her, though, he's not as fast as her. She would have caught up to him in due time, if he had not promptly fallen. The boy is shocked when the girl pins the man to the ground, seemingly trying to keep him in place. Indecision wracks Hanji's brain.

Why would she assail him? Is he a thief? Should I help her? Should I help him?

He shakes his head to clear it. Either way, this fence is an obstruction. An ear-piercing sound emits from Hanji as he is illuminated by a great, white light. A colossal beam of moonlight shines upon him like an invisible spotlight is hanging by his head. His feet lift from the ground, as if he had suddenly become completely weightless, kicking against the pavement at an angle that propels him forward, and he glides along the space just above it, quickly gaining speed from this small movement, dashing through the air toward the fence. The second his face would have hit the metal chain links, he simply moves straight through it, as if it had not been there at all.

A dolorous hum like the sound of machinery fills the air as Hanji decreases in speed, his shoes skidding against the ground near where the pursuer has pinned the pursued. He suddenly halts in movement completely, brushing off his clothing and narrowing his stance. He gives a polite wave and speaks in a nonchalant, but clear tone,
"Well met, friends! I am Holy Sword. Do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

Outfit- A black tracksuit with white stripes, underneath he wears a white gym shirt and a black sports undershirt. Imagine vintage sneakers. Around his neck hangs a charm necklace that is not the same as the one his older self wears. His hair is also slightly longer, not trained.

Sei Shonagon

 

[The Crimson King]

Hanji Fumikage

CS Link

SCENE:

Spicy Juice

LOCATION:

The Eternal Night Palace, Red Light District of the Eastside

TIME:

???

PARTICIPANTS:

Yushui, Peyton, Isaiah, Hanji

Spicy Juice

Shirō Sagisu - Guitar Test
The bright lights of the east district pass Hanji by in mere moments, streaming past him like a hundred shooting stars, his body locked on a horizontal plane, as he falls past the district, bathed in the radiance of Lunar Ride, moving like a bullet train through the sky, just above the rooftops. He has to stop in kind of an awkward place, as he starts to fall towards the ground, sliding to a stop right before a small flight of stone stairs, hitting the pavement a bit too hard, eliciting a groan of pain.

It's a miracle my ankles didn't shatter.

He straightens out his coat before placing his arms beneath it, producing a box of cigarettes, Trifecta Goddess, and placing one in his mouth. It is quickly aflame without any sign of what lit it, and he begins to make his way towards, and then down the stairs. He now finds himself walking through the deja-vu-inducing Red Light District, his cigarette leaving small plumes of smoke in his wake. He feels a bit strange, being nostalgic for the sights of a place like this. Even as a boy, he could never see this place for what it was. For all that he knew, his younger self never cared. To him, it was just another market where his late mother's friends sold their product. The adult Fumikage could more easily stomach the goings of this place, and he found himself mostly avoiding eye contact, lest one of the ladies here recognized his face. He would prefer to avoid any needless conversation. It is not long, before he stands in front of The Eternal Night Palace. This was the one building he never went to study in, and he would soon remember why. He ashes, then discards his cigarette in a tall ashtray that sits beside the front doors.

The rightmost of the large doors is effortlessly pushed open, sliding out of his path as he pushes his ceramic hand against it's wooden surface. Hanji's glasses are immediately awash with the scarlet light the interior emits, causing his golden eyes to become starkly contrasted by the night sky and his pale face, standing in the doorway for only a moment before stepping inside. He feels a bit out of place, but not unwelcome. He would try to appear friendly, speaking in an easily recognizable voice,
“Greetings and salutations... I bid you a pleasant night, ladies and gentlemen. Don't mind me at all. I'm sure it won't even feel like I'm here." The corners of his mouth curl into a barely noticeable smile, but it is gone as quickly as it was there, his expression once again nonexistent. His eyes almost seem to glow, even amongst the various light sources. He could almost feel all of the eyes on him; patrons, staff, dancers... everyone in here, even if just for a second. About two dozen strangers, and they're all looking this way.

I've got goosebumps. I should play it cool.

He would try his best to not look like he was here to kill everyone, which is usually what people assume he's all about. He walks towards the counter, each forthcoming step a reminder to those around him that he is not what he seems. He sits upon a barstool, crossing his leg over his knee as he rests both of his hands upon the cold marble. He closes his eyes, slowly exhaling. The bartender in the dragon vest approaches him, only to turn away, glancing a few times at his prosthetic arm. He keeps mumbling something about a pale Serpent. Hanji is silent, raising his head slowly as he begins to gaze off into space, his eyelids drooping as his stare becomes vacant.

I totally forgot why I came here.

Coyote Hart
QuirkyAngel
Seaquill

 

[Roda the Red]

CHARLIE HUGHES

CS Link

SCENE:

[The New Oasis Way]

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2021

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Sang-Cheol

THE NEW OASIS WAY

As the other phoenixes continued to fight off the final remaining serpent attackers, Charlie stood in place as he noticed the large blood construct taking shape, he stared at the event with utter disbelief, as this was probably the most impressive-looking ability he had ever spectated.

As the van flew, the phoenixes were able to notice the giant projectile coming at them. They scattered and sprinted away, they were able to avoid the attack, but Pilot B lost his balance due to the small tremor caused by the heavy van impacting against the asphalt. As he tried to get back up, he noticed a disposable serpent right next to him, who striked his head with a baseball bat. The phoenix fell on the ground, the side of his head bruised and painted red. The van's driver was quick to retaliate against the serpent, hitting him in the head with the butt of her shotgun, and once he fell on the ground as well, she assaulted him repeatedly with the same attack, until the serpent's head was an unrecognizeable pile of semi-solid goo. After her bloody deed, she quickly turned around a checked on her fellow Phoenix. He wasn't awake, but he was breathing and was bleeding very little from the wound, he was unconscious but he would make it.

Charlie noticed how Seer was now in bigger trouble, as a second Serpent came to the chain girl's aid. He attempted to rush to his aid, but his dash was cut short as he spotted a giant, amorphous fist coming down on him. His lackluster agility failed him, he was not going to be able to dodge the attack at its current distance and speed, so the rookie took the only option left, raising his arms above him and blocking the attack. He felt an enormous pressure pulling him down as the fist landed on him, splashing liters of blood around and on him. He knelt on one leg as the force became overwhelming, his entire body felt in pain as he tried to push back, the asphalt starting to crack slightly below him. Eventually, he felt the pressure reduced, as the blood golem's commitment to the blow waned, and used that opportunity to leap out of the attack. The phoenix, now stained from top to bottom in serpent blood, stared at the liquid construct, coming to the realization that he'd need to defeat it if he wanted to save Seer.

He lunged towards it with a powerful jump, high enough to reach its 'head', and delivered a straight punch at it. However, the results of said attack were quite ineffective, as his first simply pierced through it with little effort. The momentum of the leap was enough for him to land on the other end before the construct could counterattack.

I can't hurt it much with only my fists...what can I do?

The blood figure turned around, facing the rookie once again, but as it aimed to attack again, its back lit up, an explosion igniting from behind it, evidently causing some sort of stagger to the enemy.

"EAT SHIT, YOU BLOODY FREAK!" Said the phoenix with the fire ability, who took a moment from the serpent fighting to provide a bit of support on the other end.

Charlie's eyes lit up as the answer to the puzzle presented itself right in front of him. He retreated, skipping back several meters until he got a grasp on what he was looking for.

________________________


Seer struggled to maintain his balance as the chains pulled him around in erratic movements, despite all of his struggling, the coiling around him felt like it barely lost any grip strength, even after landing such an effective attack on the woman, and then, the strikes came. He pulled his head in closer to his chest and raised his shoulders, bracing for impact as a barrage of blows came his way. Some he was able to barely dodge, a few he managed to catch with his shoulders, reducing their efficacy considerable, but a few also landed cleanly, each one sending in a rush of pain, he grunted every time a hit managed to connect, with one to his face being particularly damaging, taking off his glasses from his face due to the force. Hewondered how did this serpent know of his name as he felt the taste of blood inside of his mouth, but still, one thing was clear about the Phoenix Veteran.

He was not about to follow the command of a filthy Sable Serpent.

He spotted one opportunity among the attacks, with the woman's chains having little pull on him. Seer made a quick backstep, managing to form a bit of space between him and the black-haired serpent. With all the desterity that his bound body allowed, he spinned his hip and left leg, performing a kick with the bladed foot towards Sang-Cheol.

__________________________

The blood golem was now focused on the fire-wielding phoenix, delivering heavy blow after heavy blow, all of them avoided by the surprisingly acrobatic man. That is, until it managed to slap him aside with a surpringly quick swipe. As construct attempted to deliver is final blow to the Phoenix, Charlie showed up from behind, now holding one of the destroyed cars as a giant club, swinging it against the creature.

Surely, an entire car should have enough surface area to actually harm the blood golem.

Misuteeku

 

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

CS Link

SCENE:

The New Oasis Way

LOCATION:

Streets of South District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Charlie

The New Oasis Way

SPLATTTTT

The car struck Rebecca's form head first. Since it was made of blood and her potential, there was no mass to counteract the force smashing it from above. Like a water balloon, it conflated and popped. Blood was sent everywhere around the aflame surroundings. The area was flooded with blood. At one end of the pool of blood was a half-emerged Rebecca. Half of her body manifested from the liquid blood, and for the first time since the fight, she had a displeased expression. "Great. I guess Aristotle and I have to find more people later. Oh well."

She didn't expect her form to be destroyed that easily. The corpses had been turned to mush, no thanks to the girl with the blue ponytail. It only made things inconvenient. The steroid was still going strong in her body, and she had relative mastery over her potential.

"Well in that case, enjoy this!" Rebecca furrowed her eyes in concentration. In one moment, the blood rippled. Then lances of blood manifested from the pond of blood. While their size was a little on the small side, they were sharpened to the point that they'd be able to cut through metal. The sea of thin spears pierced the Phoenixes through a variety of areas.

Charlie would face the same. Multiple spears of blood emerged from the pond below him. While they'd be able to cut through metal, they wouldn't have much effect on Charlie. The spears of blood lacked the mass and force to penetrate through Charlie's potentiality. Though seeing this, Rebecca decided it was time for them to bail out. "Hey, Boss! I think it's time to go!" She yelled without turning back.

---

Sang-Cheol furrowed his eyes at Seer. Raising his hand, he caught the bladed foot that was sent at him. The blade cut his hand, but Sang-Cheol didn't seem to care about the pain. "For a seer, you lack foresight." Locking the foot with his arm, Sang-Cheol immediately stabbed Seer's leg with a syringe. A syringe filled with a tranquilizer dosage that had been enhanced by his HP. "Good night," With that, he dropped Seer's leg. It was a fast-acting muscle relaxant that would put an NP into a coma. For an HP, it'd make them incapacitated in under a few seconds.

"..." The jawless Ahri started to bring Seer into her chest cavity. It closed shut once she managed to fit him inside her.

"Serpents! Retreat! We're done here!" Sang-Cheol yelled out loud. He managed to accomplish his personal goal, and that was capturing Seer. Ahri would be able to contain him and bring him to the Lab for processing. In the corner of his eye, he saw Rebecca sink back down into her pond of blood and disappear. She'd probably exit through the sewer system, thanks to her ability. There was only one last thing to do.

"Finishing the job." Taking one a molotov cocktail, he lit it on fire. Sang-Cheol's eyes landed on the vehicle and threw the molotov. Sang-Cheol didn't bother to watch the rest unfold. "With that the job is done." Now all he needed to do was get out of there.

Spoiler: Tags

Roda the Red

 

[Coyote Hart]

Gideon Gray

CS Link

SCENE:

Loose Exhibition

LOCATION:

Premier Motors, South District

TIME:

April 1st, 2022 | Post Arc 2

PARTICIPANTS:

Gideon, Zulin

Loose Exhibition

Oh no. Gideon could tell that this plan of Zulin's was already going to be incredibly stressful. Sometimes he wondered why he went through all these lengths for experience-- and in some cases such as this one, the lengths he took to make sure he was never in debt.

"There's no consequence to trying," Gideon said. He decided that making all of the occupants of the dealership vanish would make things easier for them rather than breaking out of the dealership with everyone aware. Knowing Zulin, that alternative would involve much blood and gore.

Gideon leaned over the dashboard and squinted to see who was in the building. A family of four was talking to a salesman, and in the corner, two sales associates were on their computers manning the front desk. A total of seven people. The chances of getting all of them to leave were slim, but Gideon certainly felt that he could try.

"Don't we have a meeting today?" Gideon projected to both of the sales associates at the front desk, "If we do have a meeting, it probably started half an hour ago. Maybe I should check the meeting room."

Both associates stood up, gave each other a look, and exchanged some worried, confused words before leaving the front to see if there was anything happening in the back of the dealership.

That was the easy half. Now, Gideon had to convince the family of four to leave. They were gathered around one of the cars that Gideon had previously perused. Two kids ran circles around it excitedly, one of them seemingly chasing the other, although it wasn't clear who was the one chasing and who was being chased.

"Maybe we should also check some of the cars outside," Gideon projected a thought to the dad. He turned to the mom, and after a few back and forth words, the man stayed at the car with the salesman. Gideon frowned and turned his attention to the mom, who he projected, "It might be good for me to entertain the idea though. We have the time."

The woman blinked twice, visibly confused by the thought in her head before asking the salesman another question. She didn't budge, even when Gideon repeated the idea in her mind. That was the weakness of Gideon's Potential. There was a chance that he could get the situations of the people he targeted incredibly wrong, or his target could straight up ignore the thoughts he sent. And in this case, it seemed the mom was bent on checking out this one particular car.

"I could leave her here to check out the car while I take a look outside by myself," Gideon projected to the dad. The dad said a few words to the mother before pushing open the front door to check out the cars at the front. It was better than nothing, Gideon supposed.

"That was the best I could do," Gideon confessed, rubbing his temples. Projecting thoughts was a brain-hogging task. He felt a bit fearful as to what Zulin was about to do with the four remaining people in the room, and that was very visible through the look he gave Zulin. He gulped and steadied his heart for Zulin's plan, which no doubt involved chaos. "This car is nice, you're right. What's your plan for getting it out of here? We're not killing those kids, are we?"

Gideon just hoped that Zulin's plan didn't involve brutal bloodshed.

Peckinou

 

[Lucem]

DAMIAN

CS Link

SCENE:

Laundromat Owner Will Die

LOCATION:

Laundromat, West District

TIME:

Wednesday, December 1st, 2021 || Post Arc-2

PARTICIPANTS:

Damian, Tri

LAUNDROMAT OWNER WILL DIE

Entertained by the King's actions, Damian followed suit, pouring the entirety of both containers into the overflowing detergent tray. As he did so, three more tentacles sprouted from his back. They briefly wriggled and took note of their surroundings before detaching themselves from his body, silently slithering onto the floor. Shortly afterward, they went their separate ways.

The limbs went around collecting various detergents, softeners, and other boosters. When they finally filled their rows of suckers, each one claimed their own washing machine and filled it to the brim with their findings. Doing things like this would allow Damian to satisfy his other interests as he focused on his initial fascination.

When he was finally content with his additions, Damian crouched and observed the warped body of his captive. Not even registering her muffled cries and vain attempts at escape, he placed a single dryer sheet on her tear-stained face. Satisfied with the finishing touch to the preparations, he nodded to himself and shut the door.

While the remaining appendage on his back started the wash cycle, he remained in his crouched position and watched the events unfold. Water poured in, and the machine began to violently shake, causing the vaguely human-shaped form of the owner to blur. Observing her struggle behind the glass barrier, he couldn't help but remember an old visit to the aquarium.

Even when Tri asked his question, Damian kept his gaze on the rapidly tumbling illusionist. He crossed his arms over his knees, lightly tapping at the glass as he gave his answer. "I've enjoyed myself so far."

He'd been involved with the Serpents for over a decade, but his feelings about them remained unchanged since he first joined. The gang still provided him with the stimulation he desired, so he had no complaints. If he had any, he would have dealt with them a long time ago.

"My reasons are the people, the events, and the opportunities." He listed three, but all of them were essentially the same. He associated with the Serpents because they facilitated the discovery of interesting encounters. There was nothing like a sense of loyalty or camaraderie chaining him down. He was just fulfilling his desires, and if the Serpents ever made that impossible, he'd toss them aside.

"And what about you? What keeps you around?" Leaning back, he set his sights on Deacon. He was much more interested in hearing about the new King instead of talking about himself.

"Has anything interesting come along with the new title? Aside from the power, of course." He was curious about the process of becoming King. Was it as drab as a promotion for an office worker, or was there something more to it?

"Did the passing of the torch involve anything special? Dark rituals, perhaps? I believe I heard something like that in a radio drama once."

Spoiler: Tags

Damafaud

 

[Uasal]

Jennifer Weber

CS Link

SCENE:

The House Always Wins

LOCATION:

West District - The White Tiger Casino

PARTICIPANTS:

Camila, Jennifer, Alice, Ryutaro, Hiachi

Heist

Jennifer wasn't all too enthusiastic about being called in to help deal with such a simplistic situation, what was so complicated about it anyway? Why did this punk kid require three veteran tigers and the new queen's attention anyway? Were there no other people for this kind of thing? Honestly, how ridiculous, just drag the brat out back and start pressing until something either broke or the girl gave in and spilt what it was she had been doing! This wasn't a nursery, this was a gang and there were protocols for what happened to those who stole from the gang! Submission and subservience or death, no in-between!

However, since it was Camila who had requested her help with this plan of hers, Jennifer reluctantly accepted in the end. A favour from the woman would come in handy later and Jennifer actually quite enjoyed working with the woman. Alice on the other hand, well in all honesty Jennifer had been avoiding her up until this point. The woman had nothing against Alice personally speaking but her potentiality was something of concern. That and Jennifer wasn't all that fond of dealing with those spoilt types, and Alice was more than spoilt by the gang if the rumours were to be believed.

Fiddling with a magazine and some bullets, Jennifer listened as Camila and the Queen spoke. In all honesty, the plan seemed solid enough, a bit indirect but solid nonetheless. If this brat did have a HP that assisted in cheating physically, Jennifer would be able to spot it. And if it was a mental ability or something else, Alice's tea was sure to bring that out too. And so with that in mind Jennifer had no issue with going along with what Camilia had instructed. The real issue would be the Queen. Jennifer had been in business with the man many times before but he was a crafty son of a bitch. If he was here uninvited that meant something else was most certainly going on. Just what was his deal? "Sounds good to me Camilia. I just have to catch her cheating right? Shouldn't be too hard."

Roda the Red miki joshuadim AriAriAbabwa

 

[Coyote Hart]

Peyton Xiong

CS Link

SCENE:

Spicy Juice

TIME:

???

LOCATION:

Eternal Night Palace; East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Yushui, Peyton, Isaiah, Hanji, Jackson, Otillie, Jessamine

Spicy Juice

Lights slightly tinged with red in the Eternal Night Palace, casting a lovely glow on each person who dined, gawked, danced, and drank. It glinted off of glasses filled with cocktails and whiskeys, and the subtle crimson finish helped hide the blemishes of the skin of each dancer that twirled seductively in the night.

In the middle of it all, Peyton stood at the bar, taking a moment to shine some glasses with a cloth. He stifled a yawn as he did so. The night was long; it was far too early to get sleepy. Besides, it was a busy night, there was no time for slacking off. The heat of the bodies all stuffed within the room made Peyton feel warm, but the sleek-fitted business casual clothing and dragon vest he wore gave no opportunity for ventilation.

While not unusual, Peyton was an odd fit for a bartender. The man was diminutive in size, had a lack of empathy that went hand in hand with his bubbly nature, and didn't drink alcohol often. But he had racked up plenty of experience with making drinks, and working at the bar definitely beat working back of house, where he would likely have to continuously run the washing machines with fluid-covered bedsheets.

Two people entered the bar area, taking their seats at the barstools, and Peyton put down the glass he was polishing to go serve the two of them. The first one was a man with shoulder-length snow hair and green eyes, dressed in the garb of the many dancers that worked in the industry wore. The second was a more unexpected man, tall and gaunt with a cool-looking prosthetic arm. A customer, it seemed, if not for the nervous expression on his face, which Peyton, being the ditz he was, completely missed.

"Nihao, huanying ni!" Peyton greeted the dancer with a chippy hello and welcome. He leaned over on the countertop as he thought of a recommendation. Usually, when Peyton drank, it was just mixing a Fireball with a Pepsi, sometimes adding a shot maraschino cherry juice when he had it. But if he had to recommend something... "We've got a nice and spicy cocktail called the Nectar Fuego if you want to give it a try, or maybe a classic Sex on the Beach? Especially since we're here."

Peyton ended his recommendation with a wink and then turned his attention to the tall, glasses-wearing gentleman. He misunderstood the man's situation as him being too shy to say anything, completely overlooking the man's scary vibes. When Peyton had hung out with so many Sable Serpents, he had developed a sort of immunity to scary appearances. "You want a drink too? If you're not ready to have fun, I think a small drink or two is good at making your nerves go away!"

Seaquill The Crimson King QuirkyAngel

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Passeri Park

CS Link

SCENE:

North Says No!

TIME:

February 5th, 2022

LOCATION:

Redwater High, North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri Park, Eric Evensen

North Says No!

"S'fuckin' joke." Birthed fresh from within the crowd, a man now loomed, dark and dishevelled. A thick scent of dirt and sweat stuck to his clothes, and the smell of alcohol was on his breath. The crowd stilled around him, whatever investment they'd had in the policeman and idol's impassioned speeches replaced by a low, worried tension.

"You two think 'yer somethin' special? That ya can... Can jus' wander down here and fix everythin' up with some pretty words?" He lurched forward, and his frame loomed over Passeri, who suppressed a grimace. She'd dealt with both drunks and party crashers like this before, but it wasn't usually in a situation as delicate as this. Her eyes flicked between Eric and the children. "S'stupid."

"Really?" Passeri's voice was wry. She'd been expecting something like this to happen, but beneath her sunny exterior, there was still something bubbling. Frustration, maybe. Frustration that she'd been right, or even worse, that the North was no different than she remembered. More than a few dry, petty responses ran through her mind, but she bit them back. Even if she didn't want to make a good impression on Eric, there was still the kids to consider. She didn't want to set the man off.

"Personally I think it's important for kids to hear this sort of thing from all sorts of people. Who wants to listen to their parents, right? If-"

"If what?" The man spat, and Passeri flinched, recoiling from the spray of booze-laced spit that flew from his mouth. "Some fuckin' princess and 'er greenhorn boy toy preach to 'em about shit they don't understand? Not even the cops giv' a shit about this district, chick. I'd fuckin' know. What're you gonna do? Sing th' Serps outta town? Hah!" He scoffed, and then snatched at his side for a flask that was no longer there. He'd lost it somewhere, and this wasn't the first time he'd forgotten.

"W-wouldn't that be nice~" Passeri's voice trembled, and she shrunk as far back into the desk as she could. She'd dealt with more intimidating people than this man, even outside of New Oasis's criminal underworld, but between his drunken stupor and how freshly her childhood memories were sitting in her mind, he was starting to remind her of him.

"But no. Your ladyship isn't that naive. I know that there's a lot we need to do for the North... But we have to start somewhere, right?" She strained to put on a smile. Whether her audience was a crowd of adoring fans, or trembling teenagers, she still had a show to put on.

"Fuckin' start somewhere..." The man mumbled under his breath, and drew back a few steps. "Dumb bitch. Ain't worth the effort."

"That's... A matter of opinion." Passeri felt her body relax with each stumble away from her that the man took, but she still stayed where she was. She didn't want to be any closer to him than she had to be. "And it's mine that it's worth a try."

"Hah!" The man gave her a look, and then another laugh escaped him. "Matter'a'opinion, she says! Fuckin' riot." For a moment, he seemed jovial, before a sloppy frown returned to him, and he turned his attention to Eric. "N'what about you, puddin' head? What's your 'opinion', eh? Or are 'ya just here to make a quick buck?"

Roda the Red​

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Kaede Shimokōbe

CS Link

SCENE:

Acrophobia

LOCATION:

Alleyway in the east district

TIME:

2009

PARTICIPANTS:

Hanji Fumikage, Kaede Shimokōbe

Acrophobia

NGE - Cruel Dilemma
Squinting eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and amid shadows, she made out the contours of something different. Something alarming. The alley walls were, unlike before, plastered with colorful renditions of bewinged lizards. The trademark sign of dragon territory. This was bad. Really bad. This fucker, he really ran that far huh. Her heel dug into the arm that she had pinned on the ground. Whatever, she would just finish it quickly and get the hell out of there before some lizard got the opportunity to jump her.

Her gaze sauntered down to the reddened face below her. It was an easy enough task. She just had to swap in and grab the pocket knife from the pocket of her original body. Her chest tingled uncomfortably and palms gripped the twisted arm anew in a clammy clutch. She had done it before. Easy. It was easy. Just put the blade to the throat and wrap it around, rub it into wrists and watch the skin shed tears. Her breath hastened into stutters and hitched in her throat.

Dammit. Say it dammit.

Too late. His hair was woven from the night sky itself, spun in unruly threads that formed a nest. And underneath it glared yellow headlights to eyes, hauntingly similar to the moon above. The boy was a jackal in all but the startingly polite words that breathed life into his presence.

"Well met, friends! I am Holy Sword. Do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

Her head ripped up and her face scrunched in renewed tenseness, this time from something out of her immediate control. Who? Was the first question that crossed her mind. The second was: why was he here? Was he....a dragon? This scrawny kid?

"What does it matter to you?" Kaede snorted and cocked a brow. The target groaned underneath her weight. "He-" He began to wheeze. She quickly snuffed it out with a stomp to his back. "He was gonna say that he stole something from me earlier-" The brunette whipped a hand out and grabbed the tail of his neck hair. She yanked at it, pulled his head back and continued "-Which he is now repaying".

The target slowly rose to his feet, guided by the tug at his hair and the pocket knife that suddenly poked at his back in height with the kidneys. Kaede shadowed his movements and peered over the man's shoulder while he bent his knees. "We were, in other words, just on our way out of here. Right?" Her lips curled in a thin-lipped smile to top the lies off and she nodded at the target in front of her. He hesitated.

Outfit- imagine denim shorts with a black tank top and a leather jacket.

The Crimson King

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Being Broke 101 (Pre-Arc 3)

LOCATION:

West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi ( miki ) || CAMEO: Camila ( Roda the Red )

Being Broke 101

Glimmers of sunlight peered through the openings of loosely hanging white blinds, their thin aluminum bent in random spots making them misshapen, showing years of misuse. Dust fluttered through the atmosphere, the tiny particles floating through the sunray’s beam, the segmented daylight grazing across a cheap-looking wooden kitchen counter. Various stains soaked into the wood fibers, permanently distorting them from their original beige plywood design to have blotches of darker shades. Crumbs of dry food were jammed into the corners and crevices surrounding the area, most prominent under the open microwave.

The microwave was clearly worn, having years of use. The plastic covering the buttons for the keypad had peeled off, leaving more than half of the keypad up to intuition and memory rather than sight; the door hung slightly opening, offering a brief glimpse into its grimy exterior. Stains of old food caused by explosions and overflows dressed the sides like the splatters of a beaten brush. The glass plate barely held on to its apparatus as a sheen of fat had thickened on top of it.

As if this wasn’t bad enough, the microwave found itself placed next to a sink full to the brim of dishes; the only thing keeping the dirty eatery from spilling over was most likely its owner running out of porcelain and plastic to eat off. Plates, bowls, cups, and everything in between were tossed haphazardly. Still, surprisingly they were not in terrible shape despite their rampant color, primarily devoid of remnants of meals. A clear display of a half-assed attempt to stay tidy.

The trashcan in the corner of the room between the sink and the fridge was probably the most damning evidence of the inhabitant’s lifestyle. It was surrounded by tied black trash bags with red bands that had long needed to be taken out, the contents of each threatening to spill out as they had their entire capacity used. The trashcan was in no better shape, with an abundance of takeout boxes from various restaurants acting as the bulk of the rubbish. The lack of logos or specific marketing but a variety of styrofoam and cardboard showed the owner to be a connoisseur of local small-chain eateries.

Of course, this kitchen was a schism of the sloppy lair that could be considered an apartment. A small bar of stainless steel screwed into the ground acted as the separator between tile to carpet as the view traversed into another room. Stray bags of snacks peppered the floor like leaves at the beginning of autumn, and empty alcohol bottles were propped against walls. Clothes that hadn’t been washed in who knows how long sat in a pile next to a stack of CDs on the floor, while a series of different colored jackets and hoodies hung on a single wooden chair in the corner of the room for no discernible reason.

As the focus delved further into the clutter, the faint sounds of a voice could be heard in the background. Its near muted volume identified it to clearly not be coming from someone actually in the room, and a slight shift in perspective revealed its origins, the bright LEDs of a TV reflecting light across the ground of the dimly lit room, what seemed to be on was nothing that interesting, a simple newscast as a man and woman pair sat around a table and rattled off stories, the chyron across the screen detailing the top headlines.

What was more important was the person who found themselves within the field of the TV’s bright glare, the blue light it gave off coating directed right towards the red sofa stationed in front of it. The legs of the couch were rotting, and the skirts on the side had their adhesive worn off, causing them to hang off loosely. But most noticeable about it was the arm that slung over its side and the loud snoring that followed behind shortly after.

Placed right in front of the bright glare of the TV was a man with messy black hair, his body splayed across the sofa as his mouth hung open, a small strand of drool coming out from the corner of his mouth. He snored loudly, Adams’ apple collapsing slightly as he sucked in the air. Yet, despite it being the middle of the day with the sun out bright, he didn’t seem affected, sleeping soundly. He only wore a simple white tank top and blue shorts.

The focal point on the sleeping ruffian gradually shifted away, moving away to levitate itself above a small table that sat away from the sofa. It was covered with different magazines of models in swimsuits and bikinis, but most important was the cellphone on top of it. There was a brief silence before its screen flashed alive, adorning a rich white as it screamed awake.

The man’s body stirred as his snoring was abruptly broken apart, the continuous sound of the phone ringing breaking him out from his sleep as his limply hanging arms pulled themselves away from dangling freely to bring them to the man’s side, his hairy legs grazing across the other armrest as he sluggishly put them towards the ground.

The man blinked as his eyes had yet to fully adjust to now being part of the waking world, he brought a hand up to his face and dragged his fingers across it, his skin having no choice but to follow along with the friction as he yawned, the phone’s continuous chirping in the background overshadowing the white noise of the TV.

Finally, the man stood up from the sofa, scratching the back of his neck as he lumbered toward the small table like a zombie, barely seeming conscious as his hand dropped to grip the black phone between his fingers. He quickly tapped a button with his thumb and brought the phone to his ear, answering it without much care about who was on the other end.

“Who the hell is it? I was in the middle of gettin’ some sleepin’ done, damnit...” He said, drowsy, still in the process of rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

“Tak, it’s Camila. Are you available right now?”

A familiar voice reached Tak’s eardrums but took longer to contact the brute’s brain. It was a mixture of his stupor and natural insipidity, but once he realized who it was, his posture suddenly straightened up slightly as his eyes narrowed, gripping the phone with a little more fixation than he would normally.

“Huh…? Oh, Camila…Yeah, I guess. Do you need somethin’?” He replied nonchalantly, but it was standard for talking to the woman that was technically his overseer, at least for him.

“Well...Yeah, got a small job for you.”

The concept of a small job immediately caught his attention. He didn’t have a problem with one, but it wasn’t something he got handed all that often. Feeling more himself as the gear in his brain started to turn with more fluidity, a slight smirk graced his face.

“Small? Surprised you don’t have someone else to handle it. Did you forget an ingredient at the grocery store or what?” He quipped, sliding his free hand into his pocket as he began to walk away from the table, kicking stray trash out of his way as he walked back towards the sofa.

“Real funny, remind me to put you at the top of the list next time I need a carton of milk...Anyways, I need you to meet with someone.”

Hearing the basic situation surrounding this job, Tak raised his hand to his chin, fingers caressing his stubble as he nodded, pursing his lips, acting like he adequately understood what was going on despite not being told anything yet.

“Meeting? Is this a ‘trade-off’ type meeting or a “message” type meeting? Or is it one of those meetings where we shake hands?”

Completely off the mark, even though he had yet to be corrected, Tak was convinced he was on the money, snapping his fingers with confidence as he stated his realization.

“Am I taking part in a focus group meeting?!”

“None of that; there’s no fighting involved nor a package to collect... Girl’s called Hiachi. She takes work from me the same way you do.”

Hearing that he wasn’t participating in a focus group, Tak’s posture immediately dropped in disappointment as he fell onto his sofa, his back sinking into the cushions as he leaned his head backward, his messy hair peeking over the top of the backrest.

Before he could spend too long being depressed over not participating in something menial as a focus group, he realized that immediately had him shoot off the sofa, leaning forward as his eyes went wide, shouting into the phone.

“Huuhhhh!? Hibachi!? Who the hell names their kid that?!”

If Camila’s perspective was on display, no doubt her phone would be jumping on its own and transferring Tak’s spit through the speakers from how loudly into the speakers.

“Fuck if I know. Listen to me; the issue is that she’s been ignoring me for a few days now, doesn’t reply to any of my messages nor answers my calls.”

As Camila continued to explain, Tak’s shock at his misunderstanding of Hiachi’s name shifted his focus onto his empty stomach, thoughts of freshly fried hibachi grill food floating through his brain, as he could practically smell the scent of soy sauce and feel the flame hitting his face…

“Damn, some Hibachi sounds so fuckin’ good right no--”

Luckily for Camila, her job request snapped the glutton out of his wet dreams of gastronomy, bringing him back to reality as the job concept finally dawned on him.

“Wait, this girl is ignoring you, and you *DON’T* want me to rough her up? Not even a little bit?”

Tak, not even attempting to hide his desire to be able to act like a typical grunt, questioned his higher-up on her reasoning. As far as he knew, the problem could be solved with a few threats and punches!

“Look, for all I know, she could be dead already, I need you to check out what’s going on with her before I can make any decisions right now, but I need to know quick. I’m risking losing these tasks if I hold off for too long.”

Finally, taking a second to listen appropriately, Tak’s gaze returned to its focus leer that he first displayed when he picked up the phone before getting distracted continuously. Then, understanding the situation, he again pushed himself off the sofa. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so dull after all.

“Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll go check it out. Just text me where I can find her already.” He requested, already walking towards the nearby chair, to take his tracksuit jacket off and slip it on himself.

“Best location to start is at her place. I’ll send you the address now...And, if you do find her, approach nicely, okay? She doesn’t even know I have her address.”

Upon hearing ‘nicely,’ Tak would audibly click his teeth in annoyance. He would try to keep it in mind, but his definition of being ‘nice’ and Camila’s was sure to differ...

Nevertheless, he didn’t fuss about it, rolling his shoulders as he fastened his jacket on his body.

“Fine. I’ll take care of it. Talk to you later.”

Taking his phone away from his ear, he promptly pressed a button, and a tiny blip signified the end of the call. His hand dropped weakly to his side as his head drooped slightly, looking toward the ground. Left with only the the sound of the TV in the background, he ruminated to himself.

“Hibachi…huh….”


------------------------

The sound of car horns and roaring engines introduced the next scene as the midday sun sat in the sky. The streets below were packed with various motor vehicles, from cars to trucks, each with their destination in mind. Traffic paced along relatively moderately as the machines packed next to each other like machines.

Among the numerous vehicles, one in particular stuck out, not just because of the automobile itself but also because of its rider. The vehicle in question was a silver scooter that had seen much use and age.

Crooked mirrors went along with the rusted metal and faded logo for the company placed on the back wheels, the handles had duct tape keeping them together, and one of the rear lights was clearly busted.

And sitting on top of this lemon was a man with a familiar black and white tracksuit; instead of wearing something cool like a motorcycle helmet, all he had was the spherical dome of a scooter helmet on his head, its white color broken up by a pair of racing stripes going across the middle. He also had a pair of goggles placed above the helmet’s visor out of the way of his face. Seeing such a serious-looking guy wearing a helmet was…strange, at best. But he didn’t seem to have any problem with it.

However, by the annoyed expression on his face, something else was bothering him much more than how ridiculous he looked. His teeth gritted as his eyebrows twitched, scrunched tightly together as a visible vein of anger was on his forehead.

“Hey, isn’t it strange someone like me is assigned to do a fuckin’ wellness check!? Did everyone else call in sick or some shit!?” Tak blurted out, his scooter drive giving him more than enough time to consider his situation, the heavy traffic not doing him any favors in his annoyance.

The man’s head turned to look towards a nearby truck, the trucker with his windows down and an arm hanging out as he enjoyed the nice weather. But, instead, it let him become the perfect vessel for Tak’s discontent.

“Hey!? It’s really weird, right!? It totally isn’t a job fit for a guy like me, right!?” Tak screamed loud enough to overpower the sound of the traffic, the truck’s roaring engine, and the man’s radio. He blinked in confusion as he looked out the window at Tak, bewildered by what the man was saying and why he was saying it to him, he only could respond awkwardly. “Uh…sure.”

Upon getting the random truck driver’s validation, Tak rolled his neck backward, yelling his apprehension to the heavens as he ignored the road and continued to drive forward. “Yeah! It doesn’t make any damn sense! She coulda asked anyone else for this job, dammit! I coulda stayed home and watched my fuckin’ soaps instead of doing this! Today's the first episode of the new season of Fruitful Times in Henderson! I didn't even set it up to record!” He continued complaining about his situation until again snapping his attention back towards the poor truck driver.

“I’m a total idiot for taking this job, ain’t I!?” Tak questioned, earning another uncomfortable response from the driver as he glanced away back towards the road. “Yeah…I guess…?”

Despite asking the question, upon hearing the innocent man’s response, Tak’s anger immediately came out in one giant burst, pointing a finger towards the innocent truck driver as his pupils disappeared and his teeth went jagged in his over-exaggerated display of fury. “SHUT UP! NOBODY ASKED YOU, YOU BALDING FAT FUCK!”

With that, Tak turned back towards the road, gripping the handles of his scooter and flying off down the road. Leaving the shocked truck driver to only watch as he peeled down the road. He retracted back into his large vehicle, pressing the button to roll up the windows before placing his hands back on the steering wheel.

A single tear fell down the side of his face, running down to his chin as he gazed forward.

“What was he even talking about?”

“Damn!” Tak cursed out loud as he sped down the road, smoke coming out of his exhaust as the cars around him became a blur. “I can’t believe I let myself agree to have to check on some random fuckin’ slacker! I bet this chick is alive and well, sleeping on her couch and watching the news like a loser!” Tak stormed about the girl he had yet to meet, evidently missing that he was thinking down on her for possibly doing the things he was doing only a few minutes ago.

Shifting himself over to finally exit off the busy road and enter more secluded backstreets, Tak’s displeasure didn’t cease, continuing his acrimony as he rolled through the residential area.

“People like them make life harder for us barely working people! It’s trickle-up economics! Your problems always get passed onto the next person in the chain!” He fumed, as in one smooth motion, he twirled around the handles of his scooter; the sound of rubber scraping against the ground squeaked through the surroundings as Tak’s scooter skidded sideways, only to ideally stop itself right between two cars and park neatly on the sidewalk. A technique he could only pull off in this state of laser-focused distemper.

Jumping off his scooter, he snatched his helmet off his head, letting his messy hair spring back into freedom as he tossed the helmet onto the seat of his vehicle. His hands slid into his pockets, but his expression had not lost any of its ferocity. In fact, it had only intensified as his eyes had a visible glimmer of embers in them.

“I’m gonna give them a real piece of my mind! It’s not gonna be a small piece, either! It’s more like a 20-piece than a 5!” Tak loudly exclaimed as he stomped along the sidewalk, his eyes scanning across the addresses of the building from the corner of his eyes. He strolled along; anybody else who had the misfortune of being on the same side of the sidewalk flowing past him after getting one glance at his face.

Finally, he noticed the exact set of numbers he was looking for placed in the front of an apartment complex, though it took him a second to realize after he had already walked past. He walked backward quickly, almost like someone had pressed a rewind button on him, as he turned to look at the building, head tilting upwards to examine it more closely.

“This looks even nicer than my apartment….” He stated off-handedly, his brows twitching in agitation as a small bead of sweat went down the corner of his eyes, and the corner of his lip curled downwards. With that, he didn’t waste any time placing a white sneaker onto the cement steps and walking up to enter the central part of the building.

He wandered down the pathway, the numbers of different apartment rooms sliding past his head as his head bobbed up and down slightly with his steps. Finally, he turned on his heel to stop at the door, the end goal of this little trip. He pulled his hand out of his pocket with his phone, pressing a button on the side to bring the screen back alive, scanning the screen briefly as he double-checked that he had the correct address. It only took a second, and he slid his phone back into his pocket once he was sure.

Approaching the door, Tak raised a hand toward it, prepared to knock like a normal human being…

Only to quickly swivel his whole body around, lifting his foot off the ground to slam it onto the wooden door, the wind swirling around him in a twister that provided a visual effect far too detailed for the simple result of knocking on a door!

“OOOOIIII!” Tak shouted toward the door, repeatedly slamming his shoe against the door as he continued to yell. “IT’S TIME FOR A WELLNESS CHECK! GET YOUR ASS THE HELL OUT HERE!” He demanded like a thug; unsurprisingly, Camila’s request to approach the situation nicely had already been tossed out the window and fell apart.

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Kaede Shimokōbe

CS Link

SCENE:

All that Glitters...

LOCATION:

Restaurant in the West district

TIME:

June 20th 2018

PARTICIPANTS:

Isaiah Spade, Kaede Shimokōbe, Npc dragon man

All that Glitters...

So high (instrumental) - Doja Cat
Click click. Her heels clacked against the 'red carpet' of marble floor. It undulated underneath her in swirls of white, a reflection of the milky way above that peeked through the golden arches. They spread their arms in a ceiling over the arena of tables below, an impromptu battlefield of dresses and suits and words and wallets. While some were wrapping up their battles, others were just getting started. The night was still young, and she had all the time in the world to prepare her ambush.

The overall theme of the restaurant was one of splendour, white silk and glittering champagne glasses- and in the middle of it all was she: A red carnation. Her body was draped in its crimson petals and she fluttered through the crowd on the breeze provided by her chaperone. Click. Click. Long strides propelled her forward and she waltzed all the way to the window row where he swept ahead. The man flashed a pearly smile and pulled out the chair for her.

"Ladies first."

She quirked a brow "Pulling out all the stops are we?".

"Well-" He started while she accepted his gesture with a gracious smile "-Might as well when we're at a place like this. Also, judging by the stares, I think the other guests would crucify me if I didn't". Caramel locks gently swayed as she followed his line of sight to the nearby tables. The gentlemen averted their chaste glances as if on cue. Kaede, in disguise as a woman named Delilah Westwood, erupted in a chuckle.

"I didn't take you for a man who's concerned with his performance. Can I expect that the quality service will extend to other areas as well?" Her hand shot up to stifle the rest of the joyous chimes. The man's grin widened and he waved over a waiter "That remains to be seen, doesn't it?".

The night was still young and they had just begun their precarious dance. On the outside, they were like any other couple in the restaurant. Smiling and laughing and trading quips of flirtations that belied their true identities.

A dragon and a phoenix. Well, at least the first rang true. He didn't know her true identity, and she would make sure that it remained that way.

Lucem

 

[Saturn_moon]

Isobel Pham

CS Link

SCENE:

Post Arc 2: Making Amends

LOCATION:

Ezra's Apartment, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Ezra, Isobel

Making Amends

To Isobel's surprise, Ezra began to quietly sing along as he browsed the shop's small record collection. "So you do know what fun is." She signed with a self-satisfied smile on her face when he finally acknowledged her presence again. Carefully putting the record back in its sleeve, she proceeded to inspect every inch of the player, looking for possible defects. She let Ezra's question hang between them as she did so.

When she was done, she turned back to the rookie who almost expectedly had just been patiently waiting. "I don't know your motivations for joining the Tigers; If I had a choice, I would run as far away from this life as possible. Whatever your reasons, don't let them consume you. It can be... tiring. And tired, if it lasts long enough, can be a kind of sickness too." She felt a tug at the vestiges of her memories and the face of her father materialized in her mind, weary and sunken, as he sat across from her at their tiny dining table after returning home from visiting her mother at the hospital. She used to think her father's downward spiral began after her mother's passing. But as she got older and the flames of anger had subsided, she came to realize that really, it started when the doctors first found the tumor in her mother's stomach. When he became the sole breadwinner of their family. When he suddenly had to play the role of both a father and a mother. When the endless medical bills began to stream in. When he felt like he was drowning but had no one he could turn to because his wife was too ill and his daughter too young. Isobel wonders often if maybe she had been less focused on her own grief, she might have noticed her father's struggle earlier. For all the times she thought he had failed her as a father, maybe she had failed him too.

Shaking the memory away, she picked up the player and walked over to the cashier. Pointing out a scratch on the side of the player and a loose knob, she looked the shopkeeper squarely in the eyes and held up a hand.

"5-0"

"Ninety." The man countered. Clearly, this wasn't his first time having a similar conversation with her.

"7-0"

"Fine."

Isobel fished out the notes from her wallet and handed them over. "Thank you." She signed. The man simply grunted and gently shooed her away with her new purchase. Seeking out Ezra again, she pushed the secondhand record player to him. "You're going to have to fix it up a little but that won't be an issue for you. Make use of it. A little music never hurts anyone."

Lucem

 

[Damafaud]

TRI

CS Link

SCENE:

Laundromat Owner will Die

LOCATION:

Laundromat, West District

TIME:

Wednesday, December 1st, 2021 || Post Arc-2

PARTICIPANTS:

Tri, Damien

Laundromat Owner will Die

Damien didn't know he wore an Ultraman underwear today, he didn't know the tentacles could come off. They were even. Tri joined Damien at the laundromat owner's washing machine. He realized, belatedly, that she would die from drowning before the detergent or the spinning. It was somewhat a shame, Tri thought.

It was a spectacle, though. A muffled scream, a stare despaired, and numerous washing machines filling up and spinning at the same time. A strange epiphany came over him as the laundromat owner disappeared in a blur of water and condensation. Was this the feeling of being a mafia boss? He was staring death through staring at the death on someone else's eyes. To his side, Damien echoed a confirmation. He felt a feeling he hadn't had for a long time.

Yes, he felt that he was awesome.

Tri let out a hum, satisfied. He put one hand in his pocket and looked around. The washing machines were rumbling and bubbling. Water spilling out. This was his doing. His nefarious machinations. His orchestrated scene. Beautiful.

"This." He swept a hand at the room with a proud look. "All of this."

Freedom. Coolness. Wasn't that what Serpents provided?

"Also Paris. He liked the gang." He didn't have much to do with Serpents at the start, only providing medical care to injuries that couldn't see the light.. Paris' involvement in the gang pulled him in inevitably as he guided his son through the underworld. Now, that son was larger than him and he only needed to enjoy himself.

Well, he was technically the King, but he left so much of the King's work to Paris he got called Shadow King, so it was still Paris working hard and him enjoying himself.

Tri sat on a violently shaking washing machine with a 'hup'. It was hard sitting still and even harder to look cool while doing that. Still, he crossed his legs and answered as steadily as he could. "H-hm. Just meeting. With the Board. The guys that manages the international drug ring." It was too hard talking right. Tri jumped off. "Yuudai got captured. So, as Jack, I fill the role in. Caio vouched for me."

Then, he thought of something. "Also sudden desire to kill someone." It was weird, especially since he hadn't felt a desire that intense since his wife. He didn't like it, so he ignored it. "Also desire to capture Central." He didn't like that feeling too, so he ignored that as well.

Tri thought about it again and shrugged. "Everything else is power. Paris can command more people, I can get more weapons. It's cool. Then after I get too old, I'll retire and go bang bang bang abroad."

He pointed a finger gun at Damien. "Bang."

Tags: Lucem

 

[Saturn_moon]

Ottilie James

SCENE:

1 February 2022: [Happiness & Prosperity]

LOCATION:

白春花茶莊, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Isaiah, Kairong, Levi, Meirin, Ottilie, Ruriko, Silva

Happiness & Prosperity

As dusk turned to night, the party only grew more lively and rambunctious. It felt like the entire East District had decided to show up and the shop was packed with so many bodies that people had started to spill out onto the street. Besides Master Kairong's family and the dragons, there were also the teashop's regular customers and owners of the neighboring businesses. From the guest list alone it was easy to see that Master Kairong was beloved and respected by all around him.

Ottilie was almost convinced that strange magics surrounded the place. In the midst of her conversations, a plate of food had been placed in front of her. The fluffiest steamed buns, melt-in-your-mouth braised meats, and garlicky stir-fried vegetables. Everything she put in her mouth was an explosion of flavor and she couldn't help but wipe the plate clean. The problem was, every time she looked away after that, her plate would mysteriously be refilled with new dishes and snacks and she found herself unable to leave a single morsel of food behind. Maybe she'd be doing an experiment tonight after all - One to test the limits of the seams on her dress.

Thankfully, respite came in the form of a man poking his head in through the door. "Master Kairong!" He bellowed, trying to get Kairong's attention. "There's a lady here. Says she's from the Dragon Dance troupe!"

simj26 Lucem QuirkyAngel Doctor Llamabean Beann

 

[miki]

Hiachi Ito

CS Link

SCENE:

Being Broke 101 (Pre-Arc 3)

LOCATION:

West District, Hiachi's Apartment

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Tak

Being Broke 101

TW: Suicidal Thoughts​

Inanimate objects aren’t alive—that’s just a rule of reality. But there is life in objects, in a sense. There is life in the worn-down polish on wooden planks, because someone has been running across those floors. There’s life in a broken dish, because someone was interesting enough to break it. Get the picture?

Then there are signs that these same objects had life. A worn floor easily becomes lonely once you strip the ones who wore it down. Broken dishes become artifacts once they blend in with the sand. Something was there at some point, just not anymore. So maybe it’s the people who give objects life, and a life to have lived?

Hiachi’s apartment was this brand of abandonment. The chipped pale green paint of the past owners remained. Maybe it was their favorite color. The ceiling had residue of poster putty and glow in the dark stars, of which the paint job had scarcely missed. Maybe parent or childish adult put them there. The appliances were all a slight breeze away from falling apart, but not broken enough for the landlord to consider replacing them. The fault of many, probably. And the floors were worn, so worn that there was hardly any wood polish on them anymore, and Hiachi knew this because she could see the desaturated splotches growing, and she hadn’t fixed it, not yet she told herself, and it was someone else who had begun to wear down those floors for her.

In reality, the current state of the room was really Hiachi’s fault. In the dark provided by blackout curtains, the sunlight couldn’t reveal the cracks in her wooden folding table or the dust lying dormant on the counters—but the smell gave it away. Musky dirt and disuse. It was like a tomb. And Hiachi was using it that way. For the past week she had spent her time rotting away on her mattress. The prominent ache in her heart weighed her down like an anchor on a doomed ship. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, when she had microwaved the last cup of instant ramen she had in her cabinet. She hadn’t bothered to leave to get more. The sodium made her feel bloated, anyway. Her lungs felt tight and itchy, but she stayed put. Not even the nicotine withdrawal could get her up.

Hiachi was stupid. She was born and raised in New Oasis—she knew about gangs. Growing up far from the Central District made it easier to ignore, sure—but she knew it existed. And she had cheated in an Albino Tiger casino—people who were well-known for handing out debts and indentured servitude like pamphlets. It took a true idiot to ignore the red flags surrounding the situation. She was caught by their queen and she lost everything: and gained a debt that was worth more than Hiachi herself.

Stupid, stupid Hiachi. She made her bed, and now she had to lie in it. Except her bed was just a mattress, and she had given up on using sheets years ago. It was stained by old sodas and fraying in places. Stiff like a board. A really crappy place to rest.

A few days ago, before Hiachi clocked out of work, she picked up a bottle of painkillers. Her manager had always been kinda mean, so she took them without paying.

Hiachi and the bottle of painkillers. They had come to a crossroads together. Acetaminophen could numb the pain in her heart. But then what? She didn’t have the energy to do much else. And then it would come back. She didn’t have infinite painkillers.

Maybe they could help her rest. She could take the whole bottle and go to sleep, and never have to feel this again. But if she died, her family inherited her problems. What kind of coward would put their debt on their siblings? Oh what to do, with you.

No, no. You’re too much of a coward to kill yourself.

Hiachi had been in this back in forth for the extent of seventy-two hours at this point. She probably would have kept arguing with the bottle if not for the violent banging that slammed through her internal monologue and brought her attention to the source—her front door.

Her landlord certainly didn’t knock like that. And now she was in a gang. A gang! Oh, you foolish, foolish girl.

They’re coming to kill me.

When she picked up her phone, she saw the row of missed calls from her new employer. Camila, Camila, Camila, Camila, Camila. Camila again. And unread text messages. Camila, Camila, Camila.

FUCK.

Hiachi took her hand and combed back the hair on her face, stretching her face upwards. She ignored her employer and now she was gonna pay the price. They were gonna kill her, then sell her organs on the black market for a hefty profit. Jokes on them, all of Hiachi’s organs were shit and no one would want them.

She started shaking like a busted washing machine. Her heartbeat felt like an old engine, revving eternally, unable to start up. All while dread was flooding her veins. Her hands felt ghostly as she tried to grasp to the reality of her demise.

Well, at least she didn’t have to decide now.

The hell are you talking about!?

Answer the door. No—DON'T answer the door, are you stupid?

Yes.

“OOOOIIII!”

Hiachi jumped at the sound of the man’s gruff droning. A surge of panic went through her body. They sent a guy to beat me up. Oh god, I’m gonna die today…

“IT’S TIME FOR A WELLNESS CHECK! GET YOUR ASS THE HELL OUT HERE!”

What does that even mean? Is that a code!?

Hiachi held in her breath until she could think again. The best thing to do would be to asses the situation. By all means, he could be unarmed. And if he was, he didn’t know she was home yet. If she really had to, she could dash out through the fire exit with him none the wiser.

She kept her feet flat as she crept across the floor, careful to avoid any creaky floorboards. She gently pressed her hands on the door to balance herself. She got in her tippy toes and leveled her eye with the door.

Someone else’s eye met her through the glass.

“AHH!”

She jolted back and hit the floor with a thud. She sat stunned in the floor as she mentally cursed at herself. The knocking ceased, and that confirmed it. Well, now he knew she was in here.

She didn’t have much else of a choice, unless Hiachi felt like dealing with a broken door. She flicked the brass door guard on lock before turning the knob, centimeters at a time. She inched the door open so it was wide enough to fit her widened eye.

Her wobbly pupils looked up at the man outside her door.

This man looked exactly how Hiachi would have described a cartoonish thug. His stubble was uneven, presumably the result of a shitty shave job.

This time, she could meet his gaze properly. His stone-cold gaze that lacked any light because as he looked down at her, a shadow covered his eyes. She could feel the impatient rage radiating off of him.

Hiachi went bug-eyed as she started sweating. She couldn’t keep the eye contact, so she stared at the floor.

Well, this is it. Sorry Mom, sorry Dad.

Spoiler

@thebigfella

 

[simj26]

Inigo Han

CS Link

SCENE:

Cleaning Duty

LOCATION:

Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Eric, Inigo

CLEANING DUTY

“Fuck.” Inigo drew his own service pistol at the sight of the weapons. He kept the barrel down, directed straight at the floor, but his finger was already on the trigger. He raised one hand in an attempt to defuse the situation, as they were taught in the academy. “Alright, everyone calm down. Chill out. No one needs to get hurt here.”

“Fuck you, cop!” One of the thugs shoved the gun into a worker’s head. “Drop your gun, and walk outta here!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

At his side, his partner brushed up against him. Inigo listened, but did not take his eyes off the thugs. A distraction? Gods damn it. Eric knew his predisposition towards what counted as ‘distraction’ for him. He adjusted his grip on his gun, and lightly pushed his partner behind him.

“Five seconds, pig!”

He glanced towards the hostages. New Oasis was a cesspit of vile intentions, and there was no guarantee the workers were going to get out this unscathed. Or alive, for that matter. The skin under his clothes hardened and crystallised.

“ONE!”

His eyes darted around the room. There was a lot of space. Too much space, in fact.

“TWO!”

He had to think. And he wasn’t much for thinking. He didn’t even know if his gun could be of any use here. Some of these hijackers might be HPs.

“THREE!”

Gods forfend. He was going to have to write a report on this. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Why can’t anything be as easy as ‘Hey, just get out of here.’, ‘Yes sir, sorry sir’--

“FOUR!”

He can't believe he was doing this. Inigo raised his arms slowly, flipping the gun in his hand around, gripping onto the barrel, took one step back, and braced himself. Then, he flung the gun straight at the one closest to the hostages. All eyes seemed to turn towards the gun as it somersaulted gracefully through the air.

It missed. The gun clattered onto the floor weakly. Inigo looked completely incredulous. He was never really that good at sports in the first place. He shrugged, and gave a wry smile, before he flung his hands forwards, sending out a volley of crystal shards from his arms at the hostage takers, the projectiles tearing through his sleeves.

Roda the Red

 

[simj26]

Dagger / Alisa Vassiliev

CS Link

SCENE:

Sweet Talkin' Woman

TIME:

December 22nd, 2021 | Pre Arc 3

LOCATION:

The Dollhouse, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Dagger

Sweet Talkin' Woman

Dagger had half the mind to nudge Park in the arm. She didn’t need to put on that much of an act. As much as she was a famous stage performer, she was fairly terrible at blending in, in her opinion. Their newfound partner seemed to be thinking the same thing but she was far less experienced at hiding her expression. Dagger did the next best thing and elbowed her instead. “Don’t.”

“She’s…never been to these kinds of places, huh?” The woman almost laughed as Park recoiled from the sight in one of the rooms.

“Mm.” Dagger simply nodded in response. Her previous persona had completely melted away by now. There wasn't much use in hiding now. She didn’t like the current environs. Not her kind of place. She averted her eye from the rooms that Park had the misfortune of trying to investigate. The ones that caught her attention were the ones that were closed. She looked around, checking if anyone was looking her way, not that it mattered in this den of debauchery, and tried the door.

“Locked. Some patrons like their privacy.” Fleck sighed, as if she was asking Dagger what she had expected.

“Prefer a hotel.” Confined, private, and less chances of hearing noises from the room next door. She leaned against the wall, and pulled against her shirt. Park was right. It was humid in here. Another reason to prefer a hotel. At least the airconditioning worked.

Fleck scoffed at her comment, but said nothing else. She was at least quick on the uptake that the Ruthenian was not one to talk. She glanced at Park’s way, the latter of which was talking to the bartender on this level. Dagger noticed her eyes wandering towards one of the private rooms. Dagger clicked her tongue, grabbing Fleck's attention away and towards her. She nodded towards the door questioningly, and Fleck replied with a nod to the positive. She straightened up and approached the door, studying the door knob. She could pick it. Maybe.

Park returned to them, holding an album. Dagger wisely avoided mentioning that touching that was probably unsanitary, given the ‘activities’ that occurred around here. “Anythi–” she scowled. Her usual volume of voice was being drowned out by the music. “Anything?” She repeated, louder this time.

Spoiler: tags

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[simj26]

Kisara McDowell

CS Link

SCENE:

KAIJU!

LOCATION:

North District, Lab Icarus

PARTICIPANTS:

Kisara, Sang-cheol

KAIJU!

He was moving kinda slow in the costume. Kisara almost pitied him, but if it was a fight he wanted, then it was a fight he would get! She ducked under the beast’s grabbing arms, looped around him, and fixed her hands around his waist.

“ARE! YOU! REEAAADYYYYYY?!” She shouted to the non-existent crowd, as she lifted him up. “FOR THE DROP OF THE CENTURY?! GOING DOWN!”

“Hey, relax a little, alright? Try to aim for your back. It hurts less that way~” she whispered to whoever it was inside the costume. Whether he heard her or not, that was not really her issue.

And drop she did, she arced her back and fell backwards, dropping her opponent’s head straight down to the ground.

Misuteeku

 

[Misuteeku]

Sang-Cheol Man

CS Link

SCENE:

KAIJU!

LOCATION:

North District, Lab Icarus

TIME:

Pre Arc-3 | April 18th 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Sang-Cheol, Kisara

KAIJU!

Sang-Cheol's world spun as he suddenly found himself in the process of being suplexed by Kisara. He wondered why he wore the costume in the first place. What was the point of this thing? Why did this thing even have a roar function applied to it? Unfortunately, this thought process prevented him from hearing Kisara's word of advice. Sang-Cheol's head met head first with the hard ground of the lab floor as a dent was formed by the sheer impact of the hit.

The kaiju costume-wearing scientist stayed there until he scrambled back up. "GRWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!" The roar function somehow survived as it gave out an animated monster sound. Though it perfectly conveyed Sang-Cheol's emotions. This was beyond the lab now.

"YOU THINK THAT'S ENOUGH! I'VE FACED CRABS TOUGHER THAN YOU!" Sang-Cheol roared from the costume. At a much faster speed than before, he attempted to grab Kisara by the arms and arched the 'head' of the kaiju back. And he headbutted the pink hair woman to give a taste of her own medicine. While comfortable on the inside, it was also durable on the outside.

Spoiler: Tags

simj26

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

SYLVIE SLEZÁK

CS Link

SCENE:

Reaching The Heavens From Hell

TIME:

Pre Arc-3

LOCATION:

West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Sylvie Slezák, Shishido Takakazu

Reaching The Heavens From Hell

The day was off to a great start. Cosmopolitan in one hand, phone in the other, Sylvie sat in a quieter corner of the casino. Talking idly, legs crossed, and body sprawled across the seat, he looked like he owned the place, and honestly, he put up a convincing act. His style could only be described as effortless. Not too uptight that he looked like he had back-to-back meetings all day, but not too casual that he looked like a tourist stumbling in off the street. His status as a Tiger would surprise nobody who knew the name, though his debt might have as he carried with him a sizable sum of money today.

Hopping from windfall to windfall, the breezes were strong in his direction as he confirmed the details of another lucrative job. And what allowed him to maintain such a relaxed demeanour as everything was laid into place was the fact that he wasn’t the one doing all the heavy lifting. It benefited himself and Veteran Camila Gaspari to have her helm a lot of his activities within the gang. She got money and a reliable worker, he got money, experience, and a reputation. That being said, he was still in debt, and no amount of jobs planned could justify him being at the casino that evening. But he had plans.

Today would be the day he won big.

And that plan was put into motion.

---

Hours Later.

---

The rookie swiped the hair away from his face with a clumsy motion as he leaned against the bar counter. He felt queasy, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol churning in his system, or the dread of facing a series of devastating losses like that again. No luck, no luck, no luck.

He picked up the glass of amber liquid in front of him. The ice cubes had melted considerably while he was stuck in his own thoughts, and he drank from it with more vigour than he’d normally have. There was little savouring of it, he just needed a drink. The rest went down quickly. That wasn’t his usual method and would make his sober connoisseur self cringe at his lack of appreciation for the rather expensive whiskey he had ordered, but it wasn’t something he was keeping in mind.

Sylvie’s phone flashed, showing a photo of himself, and a taller, handsome man with his arm around his shoulder. Xander Keynes — Tiger Veteran. It was from their first holiday together. Nothing fancy, just a long weekend in the sun. He smiled at the thought of their next trip, to visit family in Wrocesia. He hadn’t been back in a while. His smile faded quickly when he noticed why his phone had turned on.

A few unread notifications, some were texts he didn’t want to answer at that time, the newest was from a betting app. It wasn’t good news. He had tried not to pay attention to the game showing on screens around the bar, but he already knew he was losing money from it. He didn’t need a reminder, so his phone returned to his pocket. Flagging down the busy bartender, another drink was sent his way. A cocktail this time, elegantly garnished and tasting disarmingly like juice.

He wasn’t done yet. With drink in hand, Sylvie turned around, heading to the cash desk with his goal in mind, and slightly unsteady footing.

---

The line might’ve been long, but honestly, Sylvie didn’t mind much. Sure, he was itching to return to the tables, but he had enough sense to know that a wait wasn’t bad right now. He was alright taking time to clear his head, though he might’ve had more success if he relinquished his drink and gone outside for a bit. But who knows what form clarity might come in, standing in a long queue, becoming mind-numbingly bored… Sylvie stifled a yawn. He had wished he had brought friends tonight, they always made things better. It would be nice to have someone to talk to-

"Tch! Don't any of these losers have anything better to do? All they're gonna do is gamble all of their money anyway."

“Huh?”

Sylvie didn’t process the words immediately, but they felt directed at him, and so he felt obligated to twist his body around to see who was behind him. Oh. Oh. Oh? Oh no, he doesn’t belong at all. Sylvie looked from the man’s hair down to his shoes with a snobbish look. Nothing impressed him in the slightest. As he took in just what Tak had said, it left an even worse impression.

”You know, we are in the West District, Sir. Look around.” He let his point sit for a moment, though it lacked clarity on whether he was responding to Tak’s words, or trying to make a statement of his own. Soon he followed up on it, a hint of concern in his voice now, “can you not afford to look any better?”

Sylvie had turned fully around now. The queue moved forward, but it went unnoticed by him as he was focused now on other things. He continued to speak.

”Maybe your plan is to lose all your money, but me? I’m not leaving till I make a profit. That’s what I’m doing. My name is Sylvie Slezák, by the way.”

The thick accent and slight slur to his words might’ve made comprehending him more difficult, but his introduction was spoken loudly and confidently as he raised his free hand to shake Tak’s.

 

[angel doe]

amari

CS Link

SCENE:

ain't that a kick

TIME:

vague shrug

LOCATION:

garden, east district

PARTICIPANTS:

devin, amari

ain't that a kick

Amari's ears twitched as they picked up a muffled sound from below their feet, but didn't think much of it, far too focused on the strange plant before them. It was simultaneously disgusting and fascinating, and all they could do was stare in wonder. That is until the fuckin' thing hissed at them and they recoiled quickly, the cloth they had been using to cover their mouth fluttering to the ground.

“Oh, hell nah," Sliding off the mound of dirt, she took a couple more steps back and glared at the plant, “Ain't no way a plant jus' hissed at me." This thing was full of surprises, it seemed, and although that only made her more curious she knew better than to mess with something she knew nothing about. Especially when it hissed. She was 80% sure plants were not supposed to do that.

Just as they were about to leave they realized their handkerchief was gone. They scanned the ground for a moment, quickly locating the fabric and picking it up, shoving it back into their pocket. It was then that they saw something move beneath the dirt, crouching down and scooping some of it away with one hand.

“FUCK-" Amari stumbled backward, barely managing to catch herself instead of falling on her ass, and stood up. Why the fuck was there a human head under the dirt?

Misuteeku

 

[Seaquill]

YUSHUI 雨水

CS Link

SCENE:

Dragons B-side: Spicy Juice

LOCATION:

The Eternal Night Palace, Red Light District of the Eastside

PARTICIPANTS:

Yushui, Peyton, Isaiah, open

SPICY JUICE

Yǔshuǐ wore a cool color toned, light weather hoodie, slightly purple beneath the brothel's scarlet glow. From back to front weaved patterns of pastel polygons and graphic origami animals as if traveling on a breeze in the threads. Plain black sports shorts and sandals that would probably get lost later finished the rest of tonight's lazy-fit. The only additions were a jade and pearl earring symbolizing his membership to The Jade Temple.

Having heard the welcome from Long, whether directed to him or not, he took the opportunity to introduce himself. “It’s very welcoming indeed,” Yǔshuǐ turns to greet the veteran and the newbie from his seat. A charming expression of ease and invitation for them to talk, if they felt inclined and not too busy, ”I’m Yǔshuǐ, what can I call you?” He waved, and gave Lemon a reassuring smile. His other hand laid on the bar top.

Before responses could be had, a new voice from the entrance struck the atmosphere. Abrupt, the tall, pale man attempted to assuage his arrival and carried on, looking unbothered. The curiosity further blooming from Yǔshuǐ was entirely pure despite his choice of work. “I haven’t seen you before.” The snowy haired, green eyed man was most intrigued by the man smelling like the sky, and... chalk? It was perplexing. The broody drip though, about as classic as Sex on The Beach. Yǔshuǐ was perceiving him as both distant and tense. Maybe he could help him loosen up before whatever it was he came here for.

At Peyton’s suggestions his eyes lit briefly at the first option. There was nothing wrong with classic drinks, but the Nectar Fuego had more appeal. “Sounds fire,” there was an urge to plant his hand on his face for that, but he willed the shame away. Unsurprisingly swift. Normally he'd ask what was in it, but it was more fun this way. “Four of those for myself and my friends please.”

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

JOZEF DAALMAN

CS Link

SCENE:

Only Human

LOCATION:

Rooftop, Upper Central District

TIME:

Pre-arc 3 - Night, 26 December 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Jozef, Takaonna

ONLY HUMAN

“Wowie…”

Jozef couldn’t help but be awestruck watching the way Taka clambered onto the rooftop. Of course, her appearance was the main factor. He couldn’t make out the fine details in the dark, but her limbs, her climbing ability, it wasn’t human. Not even typical of a potential holder, or so Jozef thought. Rather than recoil in terror or disgust, his curiosity only grew. He thought she was stunning.

“Help, yeah! Do you need any- Ah!”

A shadow swung in his direction, prompting him to jump back, slipping on his butt on the frosty ground. His sneakers did little to gain traction as he kicked on the ground a little to edge further away. For a moment, he felt fear. But it didn’t take him long to act against his instincts to flee, instead scrambling for his phone.

“Hold on a second, lemme see you!”

Turning on his phone’s torch, he tilted it in all directions to get a good look at Takaonna, more specifically looking for any injuries, noticing her bloodied hand first.

”I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Jozef spoke with a soothing, calm tone. He didn’t need any formal medical training to have good bedside, or roofside manner.

-->

 

[WhiskeyMarten]

JOZEF DAALMAN

CS Link

SCENE:

The Trials of Belial

LOCATION:

Dorm room, New Oasis Central University

PARTICIPANTS:

Gideon, Jozef

THE TRIALS OF BELIAL

”Capacity to sin, huh?”

Jozef opened his hands out to receive the chocolates, though a few hit his body instead before tumbling to the ground. He quickly bent down to retrieve them, lest he suddenly be informed that the ritual would be ruined if he dropped chocolates into the circle.

“Giving me chocolates is sinful? Meant to be uhh… Gluttony? Or something?”

Jozef sorta knew what Gideon was talking about. The concept of the seven deadly sins was known well enough, though it wasn’t something Jozef ever looked into any deeper than the names of them. That being said, he didn’t know what he had to do to have the capacity to sin, but if it was just eating chocolates, he was more than happy to oblige, popping one in his mouth.

“Are you sure giving these to me won’t cancel out the sin? Generosity is like the opposite of sin.” He took a moment to chew and swallow the sweet treat, and then his eyes lit up. He crumpled up the plastic wrapper and tossed it behind him like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Littering is a sin,” he mumbled.

In his own world, he hadn’t been listening all too much to Gideon’s question. Correction. He was listening but pretending he wasn’t. It wasn’t a topic he liked to delve into, fearing the rift it could cause between them, and it was pretty unheard of for a Phoenix and a Serpent to be friends, never mind roommates. After a moment of false ignorance, a guilty expression grew on Jozef’s face, which brightened when he finally answered.

”If a demon could help you take over New Oasis, I bet it would’ve already taken over the city itself.” Jozef hadn’t meant it as a dig at the feeble villain, but he meant what he said. ”And I don’t think I could convince my buddies up north to be friends with anyone in your home district. They aren’t all nice like me.” He looked thoughtful as he tilted his head at Gideon.

”Maybe I can change that!”