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

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Kanna Katsura
SCENE:
[Pre-Arc 3] 12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!
LOCATION:
Lower Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, YY, Corvo, Hiachi, Kanna, Dagger, Maria
12th Bi-Annual Motor Competition!
A small smile crept onto her face. She was in her element.

Kanna surveyed the area as she walked through the showroom area, her eyes moving from one motorcycle to the next. In her head she could easily identify the make, model, and the individual parts a bike had, without having to look at the information sheets that are usually nearby. There was a healthy mix of bikes made within Amestria and exotic models that were made out of the country, on display for everyone to see.

Truth be told, the only reason she came to the Bi-Annual Motor Competition was because she was invited. While the organizers of the event did invite her due to Kanna's street-racing fame within the East District, she declined. The invite she accepted instead was from a friend, Yong-Yut. In previous years, Kanna only kept track of the event through social media and any small mentions through news stations. This was her first time actually attending it. And participating in it, as denoted by the special badge hanging around her neck on a lanyard.

Kanna glanced at the time on her phone, then opened her messages. The last text she got from Yong-Yut was a few minutes ago saying she was on her way. Her fingers danced around on the keyboard, sending her a message before pocketing the phone.

"I'll be in the pit garages. We can meet up there.”

She headed for one of the side exits of the convention center, navigating the sea of people and various booths that were outside. It didn’t take long for her to arrive at the special garages that were set up for competition participants.

She flashed her badge to the security by the entrance, who allowed her through. As she walked, Kanna glanced into some of the other pits to see what rides people brought. Some were more serious than others, with an entire team of people backing the racer. Then there were those that did this as a hobby and signed up to race just for the fun of it, as denoted by their more simple setups with a single toolbox, themselves and their bike.

Kanna was more of the same, bringing only what she needed for today. A couple of tool boxes that were mounted on wheels, her bike jack, and the bike itself, which was currently raised up by said jack.

gsx-r750m2_b9e_diagonal_gallery_2400x1600.png
A recent addition to her collection of various vehicles, this one she bought legitimately, as compared to her other rides that were won through various races. Her hand gently ran over the carbon fiber body panels, the light reflecting off the metallic red paint. Since buying it, Kanna had made her own modifications to it, including switching out the plastic body panels for the aforementioned carbon fiber panels, a better engine, and added two more gears, just to name a few. Practically nothing on the bike was stock, either pre-made custom parts or stuff Kanna made back at her personal garage.

Her phone began to ring. Kanna didnt need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Her finger tapped the answer button, putting the call on speaker as she set the phone on top of one of the tool boxes.

"So, anything I need to be worried about?"

The voice of her twin came out from the phone.

"Aside from the sort of cheating thats expected from races, no, everything looks normal. Of course, I'll be around should you need any help."

Kanna nodded. She pulled open a drawer, taking out a laptop and set it down next to the phone, cracking it open and powering it on. She brought it over the bike, setting it down on the seat while waiting for it to finish booting. Once the computer was ready, Kanna plugged in a cable into it, connecting the other end to a small port on her bike, hidden away at the back of the handlebar assembly. Suddenly, multiple windows appeared on the computer screen, showing a wide variety of diagnostic data and control panels. Kanna pressed a couple keys, and suddenly the bike roared to life, simmering down as the engine got up to idle speed.

"Can you run a couple more tests on the transmission? I changed it last minute and I'm still not convinced its switching in time. I need to wait for Yong outside."
"Sure."

Kanna stepped away from her bike, as it began to rev, engaging its drive gear. The rear wheel began to spin as the bike remained suspended in the air, looking like it was being controlled by a ghost.

In the meantime, Kanna stood outside her pit, leaning against the bit of wall separating her pit from the one next door. Her eyes scanned around, waiting for Yong to arrive.

thebigfella thebigfella gxxberkit gxxberkit miki miki AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa simj26 simj26 Shoya Shoya
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things
LOCATION:
North District
TIME:
Pre Arc 1 || 2021
PARTCIPANTS:
Tak, Nao ( tityanya tityanya )
Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things

“Peh, if I was gonna be a flasher, I’d at least be in the right state of mind to set my sights higher than some high school girls who are only a couple days out from having their dad wash their polka dot panties for them! I would go to the daycare where all the single moms are at; ripe melons taste better in summer than tiny grapes,” Tak vehemently detested Nao’s jab at him being a homeless flasher, responding back with something that sounded much worse with an entirely straight face. He continued the conversation like it had never happened, waving around his little napkin map with a dignified countenance.

Of course, when the woman reached for a better look, Tak quickly raised it over his head out of her reach, leaning backward and pointing an open palm towards her face to stop her in her tracks, “No touching, damnit! The last thing I need for you is to tear this in half! I gave a guy 5 dollars to draw this for me!” He chastised Nao for attempting to take ahold of his precious cargo, crumbling it back up in his hands to slide it back into his pocket. “Like I said, I know where I’m goin’. I don’t need to worry about small things like street names and location!”

In his exclamation, he raised a hand, slamming it onto his chest, a glamorous glint in his eye as he looked upwards, the street light from above basking his face in an orange hue, casting his shadow under him.

“All I need is the soul…of a man!”

He held this pose for a long moment, clearly engrossed in his inane ramblings, trying to act like a philosopher despite being covered in trash and smelling like mildew and spoiled milk. Then, finally, he turned back to Nao, a deadpan expression on his face as he pointed over his shoulder at the alleyway opening down the street, “It’s just around this corner,” he plainly stated before turning back forward and speed-walking his way over.

All pretense of stealth had entirely left him; it was almost as if he had forgotten he was sneaking around in the first place. He was carrying around a shoddy map and wasn’t even good at hiding himself. So what was he even here for?

Such a question would find its answer in the shadows between two buildings. The pair’s shoes echoed through the narrow alley, reverberating off the graffiti-covered brick walls. Small bits of litter were scattered across the ground, only moving slightly in response to the air pushed away from footsteps.

Faint blue light stood at the end of the pathway, sitting alone in an empty lot. Its bright glow made it hard to immediately make out, resembling a beacon more than anything tangible, but as they grew closer, it slowly began to take shape. Sharp square corners made up its rectangle shape, and a keypad with dimly lit buttons sat on its side.

“There it is….” Tak greeted the goal of his ambitions with a focused glare, sliding his hands in his pockets as its illumination finally faded out, allowing its true form to be revealed.

The thin pages of women in scantily clad clothing lined its interior, from lingerie to swimsuits, brazenly displayed on the front cover. Kept in place by numerous metal rings, with numbers placed under the sections to identify it, its purpose was evident.

It was a vending machine, but not one for drinks or food. Instead, it was for a different treat that appealed to those who wanted a taste of something spicier than what cinnamon gum could provide. It was a magazine vending machine filled with saucy pin-ups of voluptuous models.

“I’ve finally found it.”
 
Zachariah C. Locke
SCENE:
Bedlam Blitz!
LOCATION:
Whitepeak South District - Bolts Car
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2021; Early morning
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Leaf, Zach
Bedlam Blitz!

When the family called, even “vacation” had to be cut short. Truly, was there any Bird more loyal than him?

Straight from a fancy cruise ship where he’d been getting his gambling groove on–among other array of activities–to being squeezed into the back of a car with a group of boys and no seat belt, Zach’s life had always been one full of excitement. He lived for the adrenaline in his veins. And his family. And looking mysterious and cool in front of his siblings. So should any of them question how he’d traversed the seas to return to HQ on time for Bolt’s (or Hector’s?) operation, he’d tell them he traveled on the wings of a Phoenix…which wouldn’t even be a lie, exactly.

Not that he’d really made it back in time to do much of anything but hear about the details regarding last night’s attack.

Dreadful.

Poor Reika and Dr. Slim.

Though, Zach had to wonder if a blitzkrieg retaliation, with such limited information obtained, was such a bright idea. None of them looked energetic enough to pull off an assault…except for Yukari who was snacking and Milo who seemed high on coffee. Chuckling, Zach reached over to steal a chip from Hector’s animal-morphing sponsoree, painted nails dipping into the open bag. “What they said, Beckman-Bro.”

Whether Vulken’s brother preferred Ace, or any other nickname, wasn’t something Zach knew. In fact, the operation had its fair share of rookies and phoenixes he didn’t know. As members of an old crew die, Zach was finding he knew less and less of the faces that replaced them - a new order that rose from the ashes of a “hurricane”. Merkola gone. Lyric gone. Reika gone. Vulken no longer Jack. Sometimes he wondered why he still stayed a Phoenix when most of the family he’d built a bond with were no longer around, but then he remembered Helva, Kaede, etc. and he figured he’d probably stay until everyone he knew from the old days either died or left of their own accord. Or, maybe, he’d make some new memories. Zach wouldn’t claim to know the whims that led him to make his–often wild–decisions.

At the moment, he only knew that he didn’t like the idea of some nobodies prodding at the Phoenix nest upon Lyric’s death. That, at the very least, he’d do what he could to protect the former Phoenix King’s legacy. He owed her that much.

“Though there aren’t any language teachers 'round to correct you anymore, so spell it however you like. I prefer the piece of a two-piece swimsuit myself~”

Alright, so maybe he hadn’t quite switched back to land legs just yet.

Arriving at HQ in the dead of the night, after everything was pretty much over, Zach wasn’t as stressed as some of his fellow Phoenixes seemed to be. A little tired maybe, but seeing as he’d just come back from having fun, his mood was still fairly good.

Then again, when was it not good?

Learning to laugh in the face of problems–and death–was both a coping mechanism and a way of life for someone like him; Better to chill out and have fun with it than tense up and miss a shot.

Hector’s voice sounded through Bolt’s phone to reprimand their conversation causing Zach to snigger, arm hanging out an open window and head tilted.

Gourmet seemed a little prissy as well. And a little hungry.

“Plannin' is good--not that I have a problem with gettin’ my guns a’blazing~”


Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Misuteeku Misuteeku Astrylan Astrylan Haze- Haze-
 
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Devin Cena
SCENE:
Cushion
LOCATION:
Mall, 2nd Floor, East District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Devin, Kazue
Cushion

"Ah!"

Even though there was no reason for him to raise his arms, he did so anyways. A wall of vines and roots from George protected him from his opponent's assaults. The prickling sensation of George being harmed didn't make it any less harmful. "W-we have to do something..." Devin whimpered to himself. His opponent had the upper advantage in experience, but as a Dragon, he was forced to fight in this situation.

It had all started with a patrol that he was assigned to. Back then, Devin didn't know why they needed to patrol a mall, but seeing how a fight broke out when a rival fight came in, Devin could now understand why. His veteran seniors were busy fighting their own respective opponents, which meant he shouldn't expect any help from anyone else aside from George.

A growl escaped from George as a crack of his vine shot forth to snap at their opponent. His opponent, unfortunately, dodged it, but George's attack left a crater to where the attack had connected. They had to break through but with what? Unfortunately for the battle-inept Devin, he would soon be removed from the situation.

"EEEEEP!" Something collided with him. Devin didn't know what it was, but it sent him barreling onto the floor. With enough force, he crashed through the glass railing that prevented people from falling down. Now looking at his impending doom, Devin screeched out. "George, grab something!" He yelled fearfully.

His wish was his regretful command. George, not wanting to listen to Devin, decided to fulfill it. One of the vines reached out and grabbed onto someone. Not onto something, but on to someone. Without remorse, George proceeded to pull that person below them to cushion his host's untimely fall.

azenva azenva
 
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Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman
SCENE:
Rain on the Mountaintop
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — 2022, June 28th
LOCATION:
Borgo Orecchiette, Fusilli
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jackson, Jesper, Pascal, Milo, Gav, Boltius
RAIN ON THE MOUNTAINTOP
Boltius had been out of New Oasis a time or two in his life, but none a time as notable as this one. The wide open pastures, antiquated architecture of private estates in passing, trees and mountains making a jagged picture of the far-off horizon. As he bounced his knee to the beat of music in his ear—one bud hung loose so that he could hear Milo—he couldn’t help but gaze intermittently out the window alongside his friend.

Two sets of eyes, side-by-side, swirling with childlike awe.

At one particular point—“Woah!? What the fuck’re thooose?!” he had asked, only to immediately slump back in his seat, defeated by the realization that they were, quite obviously, cows.

“I just… didn’t know they could be brown,” was his follow-up as he tried not to laugh.

But laughter wasn’t the same these days. Not since Lyric. It managed to serve, with every chuckle and snort, as a guilty reminder that the King was absent. Missing since the earthquake. There was a hollow pit in his stomach and no knock-knock joke or witty pun could ever hope to fill it in.

— — —​

When they alighted from their mode of transportation, Boltius was somewhat taken back by the sudden interception of estate staff, and almost refused to hand over his bags—two whole travel cases to fit everything he thought he would need on this weekend getaway with elements of gang-related business in mind.

That meant alcohol, for one. Two precious bottles of bourbon in case the retreat was more likened to an AA camp than anything. The rest were just the basics that Milo permitted, like first-aid and disguise, no weapons or tools that might rouse suspicion during a bag check. This was Milo’s mission, after all, and Bolt was here to follow the rules.

Moving forward, they were herded by staff and gathered into a dramatic, two-story foyer in which Passeri Park, the goddess of the hour herself, appeared and began descending the stairs to greet them personally.

As she beamed, Boltius wrinkled his nose at the decor, but did a double-take for her beauty, closer now than when he’d spotted her talking to Vulken during bridge repair efforts in the South. Prettier in person by the stark authenticity that was too often lost in magazine photoshopping efforts to impose the impression of otherworldly elegance and grace.

“I’d hit it,” he muttered to the no one who asked.

Their eyes met as Passeri acknowledged each presence. Boltius gave her a nod of the chin, neutral of expression.

“You guys must be hungry after the trip. What do you say to a quick lunch? The staff told me they're doing ham today,” said the idol.

Bolt took out his phone at that—bottom lip puckered in thought—and navigated to his NutriApp, doing it simply out of habit, before tracking back. He told himself he wouldn’t be concerning himself with food facts and numbers this time around. Bugging the cooks would only take precious time away from their work. His and Milo’s, that is.

Eventually, he announced it, “I’ll bite.”

That’s when Milo came up beside him and spoke, and Boltius pinched his brows in concentration, wrapping his only good arm around his friend’s shoulders to pull him down to level. “Mhm. Mhm. Right… Okay, but one thing- I feel…” he pressed his lips into a tight line as he sought the right words, “...Yeah, I feel like I might be missin’ a few… a few minor details. Not that you ain’t good at explainin’!” He made sure to keep his voice low.

“I just… You brought me... M’kay?...” Boltius chewed his cheek, squinting his eyes. “Which means you’re… expectin’ a fight, though, right?... Also, I mean, the best way to lay low is to just kill anybody who acts suspicious… right?” It was all rhetorical.

“Unless you brought me here thinkin’ I wouldn’t fight ‘cause ‘a this,” he gestured to his left arm, wrapped from wrist to shoulder in a thin layer of hard plaster and cradled in a sling. Doctor Slim said that he was lucky his arm didn’t get blown off, only broken in three places, but they managed to cut recovery time in half after a simple surgery and dash of potential.

“Because I’ll beat a motherfucker with this cast, I ain’t afraid.”

Waving his good hand around, he continued, “I’m just tryna make sure I do things your way… ‘Cause there’s my way, then there’s your way, and those could be two totally different things.”

After a pause, he added, “But- But I do have… like, another theory, and it’s that you actually have a thing for Park and this is a whole, like… excuse to get close to ‘er. But if it’s not, give me another run down of the plan when you get the chance.”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: Boltius talks about the mission with Milo.

— —WEARING: Some shit like this: (Click Here) His left arm from wrist to shoulder is in a cast and sling. He's wearing his usual bling: rings, chains, bracelets. You know how it goes.

— —TATTOO: (Click Here)

 
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SYLVIE SLEZÁK
SCENE:
8 Dollar Jackpot
LOCATION:
Principality Coffee, outside New Oasis
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3, April 16th 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Sylvie, Hiachi
8 DOLLAR JACKPOT

“Whatever you are able to do comfortably.” Sylvie smiled down at her. Though it was hard to tell, he could sense a shift in tone and carried the positive momentum forward. “We are heading tooo,” Sylvie tapped away on his phone, tilting the screen into Hiachi’s view a moment later. “Litore. Not far from here.” There were a few images on Sylvie’s phone showing the city of Litore.

It was a city smaller than New Oasis, a decent drive south along the coast. From the featured photos it was clear that they looked to capitalize on the tourism industry. Flashy hotels, seaside attractions, and most importantly, casinos. “I know it looks a bit… it’s a dump, but that’s what makes it the perfect place to target.” It was true, despite the flashiness of the images, everything also looked rather tacky. There weren’t so many visitors in Litore nowadays and it showed. “We can hit the more high-profile casinos another time though. I was thinking of inviting friends to Armanic City for a weekend if you’re interested.” Sylvie turned back to his meal, eating away. He left his phone on the counter between them for Hiachi to look at their destination.

 
Dyne Enjyre
SCENE:
The Yeye Home
LOCATION:
The Yeye Home, East District (LittleLeaf zone)
LOCATION:
June 5th, 2022 || Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Meirin, Dyne, Isaiah, Devin, Sabrina, Ruriko, Jess, Ottilie
The Yeye Home
Dyne did not let her anxiety show.

She stuck close to Meirin, looking about with a polite smile. She was not good with children. Faris, who she had invited to fill that role, disappeared before they arrived. Devin's sacrifice let her breathe easier. She pretended he didn't exist and followed Meirin to greet the madame. She nodded as Meirin introduced her as a friend.

Following Meirin's example (and learning from that awful Central fight), Dyne dressed casual in a dark jacket and jeans. Make-up was scarce, though present in eye contacts and touches on her cheeks. Fresh, but not bare. As for why she bothered with the contact lens...

"Oh dear," she mumbled as leaves shook off the lifted trunk and stepped away. The building was in an awful state. She ducked under a broken beam, careful not to snag on any thorns. This wouldn't do.

"You can leave cleaning to me, senior~" Dyne expressed a coy smile. She started from the mostly intact living room. With but a step, a gentle pull attracted everything toward the center. The force could not pull the carpet up. Instead, dust and shards, chipped off concrete and wood splinters slowly dragged over the floor to form a circle.

With a casual wave of the palm, the debris floated to a corner. Dyne spread her Potential once more, repeating the process to catch larger debris. Sweeping For Vacancy Bar was a daily task for her. Compared to cleaning dust without touching glasses, debris was an easier task.

A ripped paper floated along the debris. Dyne caught it and sighed. "A pity."
unknown.png
A child's drawing of several friends together, or what appeared to be. One-third of the paper was badly crumpled that it would tear with just a little force. Dyne absentmindedly let the paper flew with the rest of the trash to the corner.

Outside, a tall man in a sweater arrived quietly with many plastic bags on his arms. He lowered the groceries near the house. Devin's appearance raised a smile on him.

"?! WHOAAA!"

A jungle gym of tangled formed not far from the tree-man. Some of the children, attracted by the thing that appeared out of nowhere, clambered off Devin. At least he had some relief.




QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel Beann Beann Lucem Lucem Saturn_moon Saturn_moon Misuteeku Misuteeku simj26 simj26
 
Kazue Kaneko
SCENE:
Cushion
LOCATION:
Mall, 2nd Floor, East District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Devin, Kazue
Cushion

Why was she here again?

Kazue was a healer. Her job was to stay in her cozy office with the kid she had picked up as a coworker, kick back to watch basketball, and occasionally heal people. Yet here she was, on patrol duty. No doubt she would have no less than twenty patients by the time Kazue got back.

The mall was at least interesting; Hypermodern and in-your-face, littered with fast fashion stores and social media’s most darling food stands galore, aimed at a younger demographic than the 25 years young Kazue. And the place hit that target audience with a bullseye. It was huge, yet you couldn’t take two steps without walking into a gaggle of high schoolers, all holding a month’s salary in bags and snacks each. The mall’s scale made it felt as though the power of capitalism had infected even the building itself with the mantra of reaching for the stars.

For the fall to have only been from the second floor was a blessing.

The plainclothes patrollers jumped onto the rabble-rousers as soon as the latter started…uh, rousing rabble? Goons though they were, the disruptors soon proved to be a danger. Or at least they were giving the new kid a hard time. Kazue had, naturally, split away from the brawl as soon as the fighting started. Purely for tactical reasons—she was no good at actually fighting, she needed to stay back to judge where to dispense support. Yeah, just a tactical retreat.

The snapback-sporting medic had backed off to a railing that watched over the ground floor. Cap lifted the slightest bit for a jauntier, wider angle, she stared over the melee, waiting for her turn to do something. Nobody had their defenses so badly broken they needed to be bailed out, so Kazue busied herself with helping a few panicked students evacuate. She pointed towards a fire escape, only turning her head back towards the fight she was supposed to be helping with as she heard the glass behind her shatter and watched the new guy—Devin—drop like a sack of bricks.
“Huh. He’ll be fine. Anyways, just take a—”
The healer’s nonchalant demeanor broke like the railing she had just brushed off when a vine from the also-panicked Devin snagged her, sweeping Kazue off her feet and Kazue’s hat off her head. She screamed like, well, a little girl. Fitting. However, unlike a small child, the short woman could actually do something about her current plummeting plight. Kazue whacked herself in the chest a little too hard and activated an instance of her Potential. A shimmering translucent sphere of green enveloped Kazue, as she closed her eyes and braced for impact.

Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Devin Cena
SCENE:
Cushion
LOCATION:
Mall, 2nd Floor, East District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Devin, Kazue
Cushion

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-"

A loud crash could be heard as something heavy fell down from the second floor. He felt George's grip on the object he grabbed loosened and prepared to face imminent impact. Though instead of feeling the hard ground floor, Devin fell onto something much softer. In fact, he didn't know whether he fell onto anything. It didn't hurt, but neither did it feel smooth. The gravity and height should have turned him into a splattered pie, but instead, he landed as if he had landed on a soft bed.

Though, Devin bounced back from whatever he landed on and instead fell onto George. A groan escaped from the Rookie, but he quickly got up once he heard George make his displeasure on his own. "Sorry, sorry!" He yelped. George's response to his apology was to steal more nutrients from his body, which made his legs feel weaker than it already was. At least he was alive. Whatever George grabbed worked, but what did he grab? Looking back to see what he landed on, Devin's face paled.

"Oh god, Kazue!" What George grabbed was his senior! Oh, no, he messed up. He messed up big time. Not only did George use a living person as a cushion, but that person was also Kazue. The woman was even smaller than him. Was she okay? Was she hurt? Devin knew that Kazue had the capacity to heal or protect people with her potential, but he didn't know if she was able to survive falling from the second floor without sustaining some sort of injury. "Are you alright? I'm so-"

Before Devin could interject, something flashed from his side. George acted immediately to the incoming attack and raised a barrier of vines and protected both Kazue and Devin from it. Though Devin could feel his skin burning as the damage of the vines was transmitted to his spin. "AAAAGH." Devin cried out. He had forgotten that there were still in a fight. Worrying about Kazue could wait until later; for now, he had to deal with the intruders.

Mustering the energy, Devin focused on George. The plant growled as pointed opened its massive maw. Thorns were littered all over the plant's oral cavity. Without hesitation, George let out a strange growl before a barrage of thorns shot forth. They riddled the offending HP with thorns that ended with him looking like a porcupine. With the enemy HP falling dead, Devin let out a sigh of relief. There was still fighting happening upstairs. Not wanting to further disappoint his fellow Dragons, Devin was about to head up-.

"Eh?" Suddenly his feet lost touch with the floor. Swinging his legs around, he realized that he had no control of his body as his body started accelerating upwards toward the ceiling. "AHHHHHH!" Instinctively, George went to grab Kazue again. Pulling them together, it looked like Devin was about to piledrive Sphere-Kazue up the ceiling due to the reversed gravity.

azenva azenva
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
[The New Oasis Way]
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, August 20th 2020
LOCATION:
Streets of South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Sang-Cheol
THE NEW OASIS WAY
"Temperer!" Shouted one of the Phoenixes as the group approached the serpent, using their abilities to try and strike him down as he walked towards Charlie. They covered themselves as a brief fiery wall emerged between them and the other two, and by the time the flames died out, the attacker was nowhere to be seen. The fire-wielding Phoenix approached Charlie, carefully lifting his head as the rookie struggled to stay conscious, his clothes were now burnt tatters, and his body wasn't in a much better condition, his skin red and blistered on multiple areas, as well as stained from his own blood wich came from a number of lacerations, especially the large cut on his chest he took earlier. Charlie focused his gaze on the Phoenixes as he aknowledged their presence.

"Shit, you're in worse shape than us, hang in there, we're calling back up right now, Mike and I will take care of the rest, you and the others are heading back to HQ to heal" The veteran looked at one of his colleages and nodded, the latter pulling up a phone, giving their contacts on HQ a quick rundown of the situation, and asking for assistance. Charlie's hand reached for the veteran's shirt, gripping it tightly.

"S-Seer...We need to get him back...They're...running away"

"...Sorry, kid, they're gone, and we're all injured here, we can't give chase."
Tears started to well up on Charlie's eyes as he heard the pessimistic reply, he pulled on the veteran's shirt, his weakened state barely able to properly move the man. "I'll go alone...I can't leave him..." His grasp on the veteran weakened, his arm dropping as his vision blurred. Seconds later, his eyes closed, passing out on the man's arms.

The phoenixes then proceeded to hide at an alley, carrying the money-filled briefcases with them. After around an hour, a new set of vehicles reached their location, taking the the money as well as the two least injured phoenixes to their original destination, while the others were sent to HQ for immediate medical treatment.

Charlie woke up on a hospital bed, heavily bandaged and connected to life support. Shortly after he was visited by the fire-wielding veteran, having some bandages of his own, he informed the Rookie about the entire situation. Charlie was devastated at the news, he felt helpless and weak, the veteran attempted to lift his spirts, letting him know that his efforts were invaluable for the majority to survive the battle. Even if it was his first mission, this moment marked the hatchling, it made him understood the gravity of the situation, as well as their bloodthirst of his enemies. He swore to himself that he would become stronger, to protect his family, to find his own way on New Oasis.


-SCENE END-



Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman
SCENE:
Passing the Torch
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 — September 28th, 2021 — 5:00 PM
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Reika, Doctor Slim (NPC)
PASSING THE TORCH
Boltius wasn’t even mad when Hector told him to shut up. If anything, he was relieved, sucking in a much needed breath, hands tightening into white-knuckled fists in his lap.

As Hector spoke, Bolt gave him the eye-contact he deserved, intent and stern with a still-lingering mix of guilt despite his attempts to move past the issue. He couldn’t read the gesture, Hector’s hand on his shoulder, but mystery wasn’t something Boltius shied away from.

A threat or consolation, Boltius welcomed it. He had to.

He was quiet while Hector spoke, careful consideration for every word.

“I need you right now.”

Boltius pressed his lips together, suddenly impassioned, and promptly stood to take Hector’s hand in a brotherly hold. “I’m here, man.” That’s all he needed to say. The rest could be found in his eyes.

739e82f40dba6de2497c194978db6ab7.jpg
“Oh- Whoops~” A woman’s voice directed his attention toward the basement stairs. There, Doctor Slim stood covering her mouth with just the tips of her manicured fingers, eyes smiling.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

A shake of the head from Bolt, he cleared his throat and faced her, “Nah, it’s cool. What’s up?” He pulled away from Hector and tucked his hands into his pockets.

Doctor Slim proceeded closer, clipboard tucked under an arm. “I’m here to run some tests, so I’ll be asking you to take a short leave.” She looked at Hector, “Both of you, sweetheart.” Then to Bolt again, a stretch of silence following as they held each other’s eyes, then, “Make sure he’s getting some rest.”

She was referring to Hector. Boltius nodded.

— — —​

They walked side-by-side, slow and quiet.

Phoenixes stood in pairs and trios and groups all throughout HQ, none trying to hide their prying, wandering gazes. Everyone knew the routine. They knew the weight on Hector’s shoulders, only they couldn’t feel just how heavy a weight it actually was.

Boltius sighed something long and weary. “I’m here for whatever you think you need to do, dawg. You wanna go get trashed, let’s go get trashed. You wanna fight your feelings out, I’m your punchin’ bag… You wanna scream your fuckin’ lungs out, I’ll scream with you.”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: Boltius and Hector talk. Doctor Slim shows up and tells them she's about to run some tests on Reika and asks Boltius and Hector to leave. Boltius and Hector are now walking through HQ.

— —WEARING: Something casual, no jewelry or accessories

— —TATTOO: (Click Here)

(Interacting w/ Hector, Doctor Slim)
(Mentioned no one)

WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
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𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝒜𝓈: 𝒩𝒶𝑜
I am here: In front of a vending machine, Northern District
With: Tak
Scene: Getting Bigger Means You Get Worse At Hiding Small Things
Time: Pre Arc 1 || 2021

"When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely"



Naomi blinked as the man refuted her claim of flashing high school girls...by saying he would flash moms at daycares. He seemed so smug, so self-assured, like that was so much better than what she had jokingly suggested. "Yes, because the quickest way to a mother's heart is to expose yourself in front of her children," Naomi teased, deadpan. At this point, she was fairly certain that the man was mostly harmless. But his demeanor was just so...easy to play off of. Normally Nao wasn't so playful and teasing, but she couldn't help it here. He made it so easy.

He moved on as through pretending the conversation never happened, showing Naomi his little napkin map. But when she reached for it, he pulled it up out of her reach. The urge to transform and grow taller to reach it consumed her, but she refrained. Instead she tried to lean in closer, but was stopped by the smell of spoiled milk more so than his hand in her face. She reeled backwards, trying not to gag. The smell was no doubt heightened by the increased awareness cocaine had given her. Could she somehow convince him to jump in a river or something to get the worst of the trash off?

"For something you paid a whopping five whole dollars for, you sure do take good care of it," Naomi noted as she watched him crumble it up and put it back in his pocket. He was worried about her tearing it, but treated it like that? She ground her teeth together, mildly annoyed. She had the feeling even Noam was more careful than this guy. He then told her that he had no need for street names and locations, because he knew where he was going. That drew a laugh from her, a loud one that rang and echoed off of the empty buildings lining the streets. When he incredibly dramatically looked up, telling her that all he needed was the soul of man, she started laughing even harder, bending at the waist. "Y-you're so funny," she said in-between laughs. "How often do you get lost relying on the soul of man?"

He held his pose for a moment, the orange glow of the streetlight making him look like some kind of raccoon philosopher. But once he was done being silly, he pointed over his shoulder at an alleyway, saying that his goal was right over there. Naomi's eyes narrowed. That...was suspicious. Would it be a bad idea to follow him that way? What if he had just been acting silly this whole time to disarm her? But he took off without another word, leaving Naomi a split-second to decide if she would follow him. She was prepared if push came to shove. And maybe whatever was in that alleyway would be really hilarious. So she quickly followed after him, taking in everything around them. Only two sounds of footsteps could be heard echoing off the walls, his and hers. There was no strangely-placed shadows or the sound of someone trying to stifle their breathing. She kicked at some litter, using it as an excuse to peer around. They were alone in the alleyway, or at least she hoped.

At the end of the alleyway, Naomi could see a blue glow. Looking at it was nearly like looking at the sun, blinding yet mesmerizing. Instead she stared at the man's back, trying not to dizzy herself by the black spots in her vision. This alleyway smelled bad. Maybe this was a bad idea, and she should have just stayed in her car. But at the same time...she was bored in her car. She wasn't bored now.

Naomi looked away from his back as he announced he had found what he was looking for. The light in her eyes dimmed as she felt like her very soul was leaving her body. It was a vending machine for dirty magazines. This was the riveting secret reason this man had come all the way to the North? A vending machine? Couldn't he get this for free on the internet? "Secret tomes of forbidden knowledge?" Naomi cracked, deadpan, peering closely at the covers. It might have looked like she was checking the women out, but she actually had a secret ulterior motive: making sure none of the women were her in another form. She did lots of things for money, after all. And if she was being sold from some weird vending machine down a creepy alley-way, she wanted to make sure that she was getting properly paid for it.


((ooc: ))
((outfit))
((Mr. Jones))


thebigfella thebigfella
 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Dissonant Ichors
LOCATION:
Alleyway, East District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1: December 21, 2020 -- Dusk
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Shen, Raph
DISSONANT ICHORS

Darius felt blindly ahead of him until his hands met opposition in the stone wall ahead, where he brought himself up to a sitting position. He turned around just in time to see the crash of the beast’s arm. Slowly, he dared to look around, trying to find the one responsible.

His saviour?

He looked up at the source of the voice, only to be met with another display of violence as the giant was sliced and diced before his eyes. This couldn’t be real. Darius only realised how badly he was shaking as Shen descended, and he fumbled for the bat that had fallen not far from him. With fingers covered in snow, he now held the weapon against him. It did nothing to make him less feeble. He could hear his own shallow breaths, and it seemed he hadn’t even processed the fact that the man had asked him a question.

Not his saviour…

“G-get back, or else.”

Darius himself was the one that had begun to edge back from the King, his jacket brushing harshly off the wall that he remained glued to. He could see blood in the corner of his vision, but he couldn’t look away from Shen. His trembling hands raised the bat ever so slightly.

“I know h-how to fight!”

What the fuck, Darius?

 
SCENE:
Drunk Walk Home
LOCATION:
Alleyway, Central District
TIME:
I forgor 💀
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Tar
DRUNK WALK HOME

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

Weighty steps echoed down the desolate streets as a figure trodded along, glistening under each light they passed. How terribly boring it was. The figure caught a glimpse of themself in a window, though they couldn’t discern much between the darkness and the all-consuming tar. Slipping a gloved hand into their pocket, a handgun emerged, which was promptly used to shatter the glass.

The interior was dark, there was no reaction. What a shame… They spun the gun around with nary a care in the world. It might’ve seemed odd to see such an obvious HP carrying a gun, given that their strength and endurance made a simple pistol practically obsolete, but it still had its uses. Maroon stains littered his outfit, mixed in with their own tar. If only there was someone there to see. If only there was someone there to entertain them. They turned the corner onto an alleyway.

A little stray cat? A little lost puppy all on their own? Where could her owner be? The figure saw another in the distance against the wall. Though shrouded in the darkness, their presence was immediately made known with a guttural laugh. The noise resembled more a dying engine gaining sentience, hell-bent on revenge as they trodded closer.

“What’s your name then…”

They continued to approach, pistol raised at her head for a moment but lowered. The figure smiled.

“And what’s going on at this time, you’re all alone?”

Hiachi would feel the heat emanating from them now.

“All alone. All alone.”

Tar kicked her to the ground. It was easy. They let out another laugh, a few globules of hot tar landing on the fallen girl. They crouched down beside her. It was easy to tell that she was drunk, vulnerable, and alone. What a stupid, stupid girl. What misfortune led her here? No, Tar wasn’t thinking that actually. They were only concerned with their fortune, and now their night was a lot more interesting.

They held the pistol against her head.

“Talk to me.”

 
TAKAONNA
SCENE:
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
LOCATION:
Port, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Elias, Zach, Taka, Yushui, Kairong, Hiachi, Tak, Sebastian
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
"Come on, kid! The sooner we finish up here, the sooner we get back to the lounge!"

Brett's tired voice shot the younger man back into focus, just in time for him to slide open the cargo hold door. A nest of pitch blackness awaited them inside with only the sound of sloshing waves to keep them company. Brett reached for a panel beside the door, flipping a few switches to no avail. "Lights must be busted. So much for a top 1% boat." Sighing, he pulled a flashlight from his belt and stepped inside.

Lewis followed suit with his own light. "So, what're we looking for?"

"Thieves, stowaways, broken boxes, anything unusual. But I've never found anything in all the ships I've worked on, so I bet we don't gotta worry about anything."


That was promising to hear, especially since he left his radio back in his dorm. Working on a cruise ship for the rich wasn't anywhere on Lewis' mind anytime soon, but fate always had something else in mind. Maybe some sleep would be good when they wrapped up; it felt like today was going to be a busy day.

As they walked around the containers of varying sizes through pathways illuminated by their flashlights, Brett asked, "You're also stuck in debt, right?"

"What?"

"There's no other reason you'd be in this shithole. And I've been stuck here for almost a third of my life, now!"
Brett laughed heartily, though it wasn't much comfort for Lewis.

"Then... the only way out is death...?"

Lewis saw his partner's silhouette shrug. "Maybe."

The younger man paused. Could things really get better for him? He knew the stories of people having their lives leashed by the Tigers until they became one themselves, but was it really hopeless? He winced as a light blinded him for a second.

"Don't look so down, kid!" Lewis rubbed his face. He didn't mean to let the dread slip through. "I still think we'll be free, eventually. As long as I have my lucky rabbit's foot, nothing will get any worse!" Brett tapped the side of his hip, showing the fuzzy foot dangling by the belt.

He couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Brett had a point; they were already in the situation, but there was a lot more to focus on and enjoy. Sure, maybe that wasn't the message he was gunning for, but Lewis wanted to take any piece of advice at this point. What did he do when he was stressed? As a kid: eat those shaped fruit skewers. How long has it been since he's had one? Great, now he could practically smell the fruit...

Fruit?

Lewis aimed his light to the side. Like a stuffed closet spilling its contents, torn boxes of assorted fruits littered the ground from a ruined stack. Bits of partially eaten fruits lay at their feet. The debris almost buried the two metal doors that were torn straight off their hinges.

"Shit... thieves must've broken in," Brett uttered.

Thieves? That made sense, but... that answer didn't sit well with Lewis.

"I'm gonna radio our supervisor."

"O-okay..."
As much as Lewis wanted to get out of here, he needed to affirm his gut feelings. He knelt on one of the doors, wiping away some smashed fruit. They had landed directly in front of the container, and in the center of each door, he found it. A hand-shaped dent. "Brett, I'm beginning to think it wasn't thieves..."

Lewis stepped to the side—crinkling glass made itself known. The younger man shined his light across the ground, finding lines of broken glass and thin metal wire. He flicked his flashlight up where the cargo hold's light should have been. "Brett! I know why the lights weren't turning on!"

He turned to where his senior was standing.

Darkness.

"Brett?" Lewis' throat dried. He swung his light; left, right, left, right. "Brett?!" A sick prank? No, he wasn't that type of person.

Something inside told him to run. And run, he did. Through the darkness, whisking the light around like a spinning strobe. A head of black hair appeared in the half-second swings, but he kept running.

Something caught his foot. Lewis fell flat, drenching himself in a warm liquid. He heard his flashlight bounce away. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He crawled after it, barely snatching the device back. He aimed it on what he tripped on.

The first thing he saw was the blue denim, then a rabbit's foot hooked on a belt. Lewis held in his vomit; his radio was there, too! He shined it on himself; his clothes were drenched in red. He shined it on Brett's upper torso, where a coiling arm wrapped around the cadaver.

Lewis pressed the radio to his mouth.

"HELP!" Static followed after.

Below deck, the Takaonna slithered through the open cargo door.

QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel
 
Isobel Pham
SCENE:
Post Arc 2: Making Amends
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Isobel
Making Amends
There was a moment of confusion. Two idiots staring blankly at each other, not fully comprehending what the other was doing but just accepting it. It would appear that this was becoming the foundation for their entire relationship. When Ezra's words finally pieced itself together in Isobel's head, a crease formed in the space between her brows and she reached out to give him the lightest flick on his forehead.

"Gift." She signed and also followed up by fingerspelling the word for good measure.

With nothing left to add, she turned and started walking down the street, her steps lighter than when she first arrived. She had started the day with a plan to right the wrongs she might have done unto Ezra but in the process she had also made amends with her own demons. Some of them at least. She'd closed her heart off from any sort of relationship for so long thinking it was the solution to ending all pain. There were exceptions of course. With August their friendship had been mostly transactional while there was always going to be a sense of being duty bound to Matsuda. There was also Markus, but trying to decipher that relationship was like trying to solve an impossible puzzle box so it was probably best to bring up right now.

It had been a safe way to live, but what a small way as well. In guarding against pain she had also guarded against joy and maybe, just maybe, after everything she had gone through in the past few years, she could try lowering her walls for once.


Lucem Lucem
 
SCENE:
Coolness as a Rule
LOCATION:
Parking Lot, North District
TIME:
Wednesday, November 3rd, 2021 || Post Arc-2
PARTICIPANTS:
Tri, Naomi
Coolness as a Rule

Another anime fan. Tri let out a pleasant hum, accompanied by the curl of his lips. Humming, as always, remained his preferred way of showcasing emotions.

"A mix, leaning comedy. When it uses the protagonist POV, everything is taken like a slice-of-life and full of misconception on the world's view. When it uses the POV of one of the girls, it takes a grittier tone. The main girl is a yandere."

Naomi's anime voice had Tri tilting his head. That was great. If he was in his cosplaying phase, he would be very interested and pulled Naomi along for some anime-esque great capers stunt. He was into proper cartel cool now, though. Tri gave Naomi a polite clap.

And the next moment, his eyes narrowed.

There was a decade where Tri did nothing but lab and medical work. His clinic was a favorite, not only for his discretion, but also his Potential. Users looking to start a weekday fresh would ask for his service. He was all-too familiar with the telltales.
With a harrumph, a white glow illuminated the car, covering Naomi and Tristan whole. Tristan stood dazed, before forming a bitter smile.

"Come on, Boss. I stayed up late last night."

"Hm."
Tri bit into a chorizo taco with a neutral look. Coffee did nothing for him either, so he didn't care that much. Tristan rubbed the back of his head and climbed back to the driver's seat.

"Just go back."

"Yes?"

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"Just go back."

The car reversed out of the parking lot. The silence was a different type of awkward from before. Tri was silent. He ate his taco. As the evening aged and people lessened, the car gradually halted back where they started, the Serpent's HQ. Tri took his second taco out and left without a word.

"Don't mind the Boss." Tristan glanced at Naomi from the rearview mirror. "He's just bitter since drugs can't affect 'im. Best not to use any of them since..."

Tristan let out a chuckle. "Boss not that bad a guy. Just do crazy stuff sometimes, but not that harsh on us under."


Tags: tityanya tityanya
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Shishido Takakazu, Dante Aguilar ( Haze- Haze- )
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth
Invading his mind like an agitating ladybug that had crawled into his ear, the voice of Cerberus tickled the back of his skull. But, as agitating it was to deal with the weird effect of having someone speak right into your brain, like someone squeezing themselves into an already packed elevator, in this case, Tak didn’t mind for once; he and the creature were on the same wavelength.

“Who ya callin’ meatbag, ya mutt?! Someone should put a damn muzzle on you!” Tak ranted at the creature, letting his words be carried by the wind resistance to the pair in the back. Though, his insult was in a much more light-hearted manner than usual.

The perspective suddenly switched to the interior of a random pedestrian’s car, the everyday civilian sipping on a cheap cup of gas station coffee in one hand while the other was tightly gripped around the steering wheel. Then, out of his peripheral vision, the front end of a silver scooter caught up with him, gradually sliding past his window. From his perspective, Tak was an everyday driver, the man’s jacket flopping around in the wind as he drove at high speed. It wasn’t until the man sped up and created a more significant gap that something looked off. A swirling and contorting mass on the back of the scooter from a distance almost made it look like his engine had burst open and was billowing out smoke.

The man’s eyes instantly went white as his pupils disappeared, coffee spurting out from his lips and nose like a punctured hose, spraying across his dashboard and staining his white button-up shirt. He quickly rolled down his windows, leaning his head out as he turned away from the road.

“Hey! Are you okay--” The man began an attempt at being a good samaritan and feeding his curiosity of what situation could invoke someone to be riding along with a vehicle that looked prepared to explode at any moment, but before the question could fully pop out from behind his lips, his skin went pale as his eyes went wide, a deep blue shadow going over his forehead as his pupils dilated.

What he saw was no longer the fumes from a machine; he could make out the strands of fiber that all melded together to make a thick pelt of fur rustling in the breeze. The faint white glow of massive dagger-sharp jaws made to tear apart flesh and bone.

Immediately he understood this was not a man riding on a shoddy scooter.

This was a horseman of the apocalypse.

“EYEAAAAAAA!” The man screamed in terror, his visceral reaction causing him to lose control of his car as he sharply turned away from the scooter in an attempt to save his own life, only for the sharp movement at such high speed to only cause him to spin out in turn, the vehicle swirling and slamming itself into the nearby barricade front first, the airbag exploding as the metal frame crumbled up and smoke began to emanate from the bonnet.

Despite the crash he had just inadvertently caused, Tak didn’t seem to even notice, not even bothering to look behind him. Instead, something else caused him to take his attention from the road. The sound of stomach acid and half-digested food rising up from Dante’s throat immediately made Tak stiffen, his head swiftly twisting over his shoulder as he looked at Dante’s puffed-up cheeks with a look of fear, “Oi! You better not throw up on me, damnit! I only have one of these jackets! Your gonna infringe on my defining character design! Do you hear me!? Oi!?” Tak babbled worriedly, watching in real-time as he rocked forward onto his shoulder, and his skin visibly began to darken around his eyes and cheeks in preparation to spew all over him.

Luckily, before that could pass, a mass of fur and sharpened claws would slide between them, guarding Tak against becoming a victim of Dante’s bile and having to visit the laundromat more than once a month.


Upon realizing that he had been saved by Cerberus, Tak’s relief swiftly swapped to chutzpah and hubris, visibly sneering as he smirked, and his expression became more cartoonish, pupils enlarging as he removed a hand from the scooter to bring it up in front of his mouth like a gossiping schoolgirl, taking a more nasally and childish tone as he spoke, “Poor guy, hard to keep the food down, huh? Are you sure you don’t need to burp him too? Does he need his diaper changed?” Tak quipped at Dante’s expense, moving his head side to side to punctuate each statement.

Whether or not Tak was a psycho or an artist was up in the air between the three of them, but there was one thing Tak sure wasn’t. A guy who paid attention to the road.

When he finally left the banter between Dante and his potential and turned his head back to the road ahead, his eyes instantaneously widened, bulging out of his sockets as they went bloodshot. The conditions for such a reaction were apparent as the perspective swapped forward. Bright orange cones and gleaming neon green signs showcased the roadwork ahead, construction vehicles sitting in a mass of dirt where a road formerly should have been and blocking any pathway forward.


“SHIIIIIIIIT!” The brute shouted at the incoming roadblock, and with little time to correct himself, he shifted his weight sideways, turning the front end of his scooter sharply left. In seconds, they went from being on the road to flying off the edge of it; a faced-up perspective showed the wheels bounding off the side, soaring through the air in slow motion.

The next moment, the wheels again reached solid ground, slamming down hard as the scooter bounced. But they were no longer on a smooth paved road; instead, the scooter shook and bobbed as the wheels rolled over the cobblestone brick siding that led down to a sewer canal below.

Tak’s body vibrated like he was sitting in a massage chair, his voice absentmindedly coming out his mouth like a kid speaking through a fan as his body was jostled up and down in quick succession, beginning to make him dizzy until they finally reached the end of the siding, dropping onto one of the sides of the shallow canal.

“Tch!” Tak clicked his teeth as he looked left and right, trying to find a way to get to the DVD rental store. Not having the time to think too hard about it, he hastily chose, “This way!”

Turning in direction, the wheels stirred back to life, skidding across the ground and kicking up dust before the force overpowered the weight, sending the scooter flying forward into the dark expanse of the sewer tunnel ahead.

The trio entered the dark channel with only the scooter headlight to guide their way, the sounds of rushing water echoing underneath the roar of Tak’s aging engine. The smell of the septic system was prominent throughout the vicinity.

“Damn! It smells like shit in here!” Tak spat, ignoring the obvious; he was intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible.

The lack of light made it hard to tell what was ahead, and the speed at which he was going didn’t make it any easier to make anything out of the darkness. If he wasn’t busy fighting to stay conscious, Dante would have probably noticed what was ahead before Tak.

As the scooter’s headlight illuminated the path forward, the faint outline of a human-shaped silhouette was visible in the darkness as Tak grew closer, the light scanning over them and bringing the person into view.

Crouched down over the side of the canal was a man who was clearly homeless, from the bucket hat he wore over his grayed dry hair to his long beard. He had a whole set-up, a tarp covering the group with his numerous belongings stacked on top of it, like porno mags and stacks of cardboard.

His hands were dipped inside the dirty sewer water, but as soon as the scooter’s light reflected off his eyes, he turned his head just in time to see the vehicle quickly approaching.

Shouting in shock, the elderly man’s eyes bulged, his hands whipping out from the water as he stepped back, leaping out of the scooter as it flew by, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

The homeless man blinked as the scooter drove into the distance before silently looking down at his empty hands.

What was he missing?

“URAAAHHHHHH!"

Tak’s muffled screaming came from behind the underpants plastered across his face, the white color ruined by a large brown skidmark going across it. His hands had departed entirely from handling the scooter as he gripped onto the parasite that had attached to his face, trying to peel it off, but it stuck like it was bound by glue, only pulling and tugging as he attempted to remove it.

The scooter shakily rocked as the brute tried to save himself, threatening to spill over into the canal. As they continued the speed forward, the sound of rushing water began to grow farther and farther away, and the shifting travel in the echoes of Tak’s screams was a clear sign for Dante.

They were headed straight for a dead end!
 
Last edited:
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
Minato's eyes sparkled with interest as the strange man laid out his proposal. His response was almost instantaneous. "Oh, I like the way you think, homie. A man after my own heart." He bounced on the balls of his feet, barely able to contain his enthusiasm for the challenge. His eyebrows raised in excitement, a wild grin spreading across his face as he nodded emphatically.

He clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously as his mind raced, already contemplating the various items he could showcase for his new friend to choose from. He couldn't help but let out a boisterous laugh, the thrill of the game invigorating him.

"Alright, alright, alright! You've got yourself a deal! But remember, if you lose, ya' owe me double."

Minato practically leapt from his spot at the counter, his arms gesturing animatedly as he started the grand tour.

He seemed to glide through the party, his movements halting and quick, as if he was always one step ahead of himself. Every now and then, he'd pause to throw in a bit of commentary on a particular item or room, his words tumbling out like a torrent. He'd occasionally break into a small, quick dance or snap his fingers to the beat of the music.

Throughout the tour, Minato's eyes darted around, assessing each item with a keen interest.

Finally, he'd made his selections. The tour had left the pair of them in a quiet, out-of-the-way backroom. The sound of the party was a distant, muted memory back here, its thumping bass felt in the walls more than heard.

The first was a large, hand-carved wooden sculpture of a strange, bird-like, fish-like creature bursting out of the sea, its lithe body coiling and twisting as if in flight, with feathers and scales intertwined in a delicate dance. The wood itself was a rich, deep mahogany. The natural beauty of the grain, and the artist's skill, managed to give the sculpture an almost lifelike appearance.

The second was an antique gold pocket watch, its elegant craftsmanship a testament ot a bygone era. Its outer casing was adorned with an elaborate filigree design, incorporating a floral garden of flowers, vines, and even a few small, meticulously detailed animals. Minato reached out and opened the watch, revealing a pristine clock face, its hands still ticking away the seconds.

Minato stepped back, clasping his arms behind his back, as if worried what they'd do if not contained.

"Alright, homie, the moment of truth."


Minato's grin widened, pleased that he had piqued Sylvie's interest. He glanced around the room, making sure no one was within earshot, before leaning in closer to his new friend, his voice hushed but excited. ""Alright, alright, alright, alright, so here's the deal... I've got connections, y'know? People who can get their hands on some real exclusive stuff."

He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He loved his life. "I'm talking rare art, designer clothes, high-end tech – you name it. And don't forget it, yeah? Minato Maeda's got the hook-ups... Just... Don't go blabber-mouthin' it to every John 'r Jane you meet, yeah?" Minato gestured vaguely around the room, his eyes darting from corner to corner. Just be cool/

"But hey," he continued, his tone shifting to one of nonchalance, his shoulders sloping into an exaggerated shrug, "if you ain't interested in all 'at, I've got... Heh-heh... Other business ventures too. Investments, connections, inside info – I'm your guy. Smart guy like yourself. I could help ya' make a real pretty penny, Syl—can I call ya Syl?—, n' all I ask in return is a little... partnership. Yeah?" Minato waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his smile all glinting canines in the partylight. He'd cast his line. Now he just waited for a nibble.

 
Raquel Filo
SCENE:
Fever Feast
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
Time:
Pre-Arc 1 | 2016
PARTICIPANTS:
Raquel, Kaede
Fever Feast

It's hot. It's cold. The monster in her stomach clawed greedily for her to move.

Yet, she couldn't move. Raquel couldn't move from the little comfort that the bed had provided for her. It was the only thing that warmed her cold body and wiped away the sweat that accumulated from her head. Throughout what little time she had spent being lucid, Raquel never thought she had the capacity to be sick. Before Hector had found her, she lived in unsanitary living conditions and ate whichever unfortunate person ran into her.

It was ironic that she got sick from living at Phoenix HQ rather than the dirty backstreets. The illness wasn't foodborne, as her stomach was capable of digesting whatever rotting piece of human meat was around. That must have meant there was some sort of flu that was going through the Phoenixes right now. Whoever was spreading the flu would find them accosted by a cannibal once her sickness was over.

Raquel's eyes furrowed as she twisted and turned on the bed. Her stomach let out a huge growl as it tried to incite her to find the nearest human to eat, which she couldn't exactly do. She had already been taught a lesson by that black-clothed veteran not to drain blood from other Phoenixes, and the rookie didn't exactly want a round two with her. That meant she had to suffer on her lonesome until the fever ceased.

"Hector..." Raquel mumbled to herself. It would be nice if he dropped by and took care of her. Maybe even feed her if he didn't feel too disgusted about feeding a monster. Though he was busy right now, maybe he'd drop by later. The girl closed her eyes and tried to bare through pain.


Sei Shonagon Sei Shonagon
 
Last edited:
Devin Cena
SCENE:
What
LOCATION:
ENP, East District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Devin, Jackson
What

So, this was the Eternal Night Palace of the East District.

The building's interior was new from Devin's point of view. Back where he used to live, most buildings weren't maintained all too well, with the exception of the rare few. Devin's eyes lingered as people walked by. Now, what to do now? He only came to check the place out of curiosity. Now that he was here, should he just leave? No, what would the point then be? It took hours for him to walk by on foot, so he should at least look around.

Heading over to the receptionist, Devin nervously looked up at them. Devin had noticed a trend with everyone in this building in that most of them were attractive. Either beautiful or handsome, cute or cool, and a variety of different other adjectives that comment on one's appearance. It made Devin feel inferior to his own appearance. Compared to them, he was short, skinny, and had a man-eating plant growing on his back. There was nothing appealing about him that could attract another-

"Hello? Sir?"

Devin jumped at the receptionist's piercing voice and looked back up at her. "U-Uh, sorry about that. W-what were you saying?" The receptionist had an odd look on their face. It felt pretty ominous to Devin, who currently felt like a fish out of water at the moment. Though after a period of silence, a smile grew on the receptionist's face.

"This is your first time here, right? How about I give some a free trial of sorts."

"F-Free trial?" What did that exactly mean? Devin didn't want to use the brothel's services. Before he could decline, the receptionist had already shoved the keys into his hands.

"The room is around the corner. I've paid for your room, so just relax and have fun!"

With that, Devin somehow found himself in the room. As far as he could see, there was nobody in the room. The room looked quite comfortable, but there was a level of eerieness that Devin felt. "U-Uh, is anyone here?" Devin said out loud. Curiously walking into the room, Devin whipped his head around to see if there was anyone inside. Maybe this was like a hotel? There was a bed in the middle; should he just sit there and rest?

BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Clad In Golden Dreams
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Tak, Elias, Jesper
Clad In Golden Dreams
It was loud in a far-off way. There was noise, but not from a single source, all scattered across murmurs and clinking silverware and ambient music from nowhere. There was a lot of people, a lot of judgmental people who couldn’t care less about a server pouring them drinks. It was suffocating—navigating the cracks between conversation and just doing her job.

She had no qualms about being there, though. A couple hours ago, she might have even said she was excited. She had never been to something like this. The closest she ever thought she would get was sitting glued in front of the TV, watching the live broadcast of celebrities walking a red carpet, shouting guesses about who was displayed on the screen.

Quite a few celebrities had shown up, actually. Passeri Park was there. She was sitting at a table, talking with ease to two men. That wasn’t as special, though—Hiachi had gotten the chance to work under her. She was very nice, but that luster and excitement had died out when she had begun to talk to her as her boss.

Hiachi looked around the room, trying to take in more of her surroundings. She was hoping to catch sight of an attendee with an interesting look, but something else caught her eye.

A tall man in a black slim-fitted three piece suit. Eyes boring through his expensive glasses as he swept his charcoal-colored bangs off of his forehead. A meticulously tailored look. But then there was the gloves. The lurch away from anyone who came near him—not an instinct of fear, but of disgust.

Denzou. In the middle of this charity event, reluctantly chatting with a coworker, unaware of her presence a mere ten feet away from her.

Why is it always me!?

Under no circumstances could he know that she was there. First off, the idea of him seeing her working as a server at an event he was invited to was degrading. But more glaringly concerning was the idea of Denzou making connections between her and the tigers. Denzou was smart—too smart for his own good. Knowing that she was potentially connected to the tigers would trip her up, no matter how far down the line it would be.

At the end of the day, she didn’t want to talk to him! She didn’t want him to see her!

Hiachi looked in different directions at breakneck pace. Where could she hide? The table across from her was essentially empty, so for the time being, hiding beneath it seemed like the most logical course of action to her.

She ducked under the cream tablecloth and tucked her knees into herself. She felt like a child playing hide and seek, but she didn’t really care. Hopefully, no one had seen her—she didn’t want to explain her predicament.


 
Devin Cena
SCENE:
Sprout
LOCATION:
Dragon HQ, East District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 | 2020
PARTICIPANTS:
Devin, Isaiah
Sprout

"W-what do I do now?" Devin muttered to himself. This was his first day of being an Azure Dragon. He had gotten through under recommendation from a Dragon Veteran. Though, just like that, he was left alone to his own devices. Nobody was there to tell him what to do, nor did he have any inclination to do anything. Sitting on a bench, Devin looked straight down at the floor to avoid eye contact.

No matter how much Devin thought, there was no way he could adjust to his new life. Seeing unfamiliar faces at the HQ, an unfamiliar ceiling he awake too, and the food here. While the food here was extraordinarily better than the food in the North, Devin wanted to actually choke at the richness of the food. The unfamiliar environment slowly choked the life out of the plant.

He could feel a vine touch the back of his neck. "Thanks, George, I'm fine," Devin whispered to the plant. If the other Dragons saw him talk to himself, there was no doubt that he'd be treated like an outcast. Though regardless, George was a comforting constant in his life. Despite the plant parasitically feeding off of his body and ending up causing trouble for him, there were at times that Devin appreciated the plant's presence.

Though a sigh escaped from Devin. What now? That was the same question he kept on asking himself. While he was getting paid by the Dragons for being a part of the group, there was no doubt that he would be sent on a mission. He hadn't actually fought anyone before. If anything, George did the fighting for him, but Devin doubt he could rely on George forever, not to mention whatever other mission the Dragons had. He had sometimes heard the Serpents of the North often gut-harvested random civilians. Was he going to have to do that? Devin started biting on his nail-out habit due to this strange situation he found himself in.

Lucem Lucem
 
RURIKO IKEDA
SCENE:
If It Means A Lot To You
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 (31st MAY 2022 @0200)
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Ruriko
IF IT MEANS A LOT TO YOU

Silva’s voice reached her ears given his close proximity but his words were muffled, difficult to understand. Her eyes opened just barely enough to see a blurred figure in front, their words muffled as well but the tone was somewhat familiar. There was movement. Pain radiated throughout her aching body which prompted a low groan to escape her lips. Then there was comfort. Familiarity. Security. She was safe now.

Her vision continued to blur in and out. A door with many locks, a couch, a bedroom. She could feel her body sink into something soft, her muscles relaxing in response. A familiar voice called out to her and it was like her mind scrolled through the different tones that were used to sound out her name. It didn't match Shen's happy 'Ru-Ri!' greetings. Her head then throbbed in pain as she thought too much about it. Instead, she tried to focus on the feeling of her hair being tucked back. There was a face. She could barely make out the color purple from where the eyes should be. "Shu…wei…?" Ruriko breathed out, her heavy eyes struggling to stay open. She tasted her lips slowly, only realizing now how incredibly dry her throat felt. Her hand weakly reached out to him but her vision focused on the clean, white bandage that was wrapped around her wrist.

Then she felt it. The origin of her pain. It pulsated heavily from her wrist, her altered state exaggerating the feeling even more. Ruriko groaned as she dropped her arm back by her side. Why did it hurt so much? Why…She closed her eyes, a brief glimpse of a woman with thick hair came to mind. Her hair was styled in dreads — no — braids — rope? No. Smooth. Leathery. Scales? "Snakes…" she breathed out loud as she answered her own question. She remembered the woman had snakes for hair.


Lucem Lucem Wxnter Wxnter
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Return To Sender
TIME:
Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Hotel Gaul, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park
Return To Sender
"Aha." A glint caught in Passeri's eye. She asked questions. That was good. "Don't worry too much about how we're getting up there, or how we're escaping either, for that matter. I've got my own sort-of all-access pass tonight." Of course, by that she meant her Potential. A quick jaunt up a few floors of a skyscraper was easy work when you could glide through the midnight air.

"As for the cameras, that's why we have these!" Passeri lent over her seat, and produced a pair of thick, black balaclavas. She quickly tossed on in Hiachi's direction, and blithely slipped the other over the top of her head. "It's not perfect, but I'll be having a friend of mine scour the CCTV footage afterwards, anyway. We just need to make sure any of the staff security don't see our faces, and we should be in the clear."

All in all, this should've been a straightforward mission. In and out. She wasn't much for espionage, but there were only so many stops that someone of their target's calibre could pull out. They weren't exactly dealing with one of the Tigers' big money makers, here.

"If that's all, then let's hop to it!" Her face hidden, Passeri stepped onto the balcony with the sort of confidence that only anonymity could bring. Chill, night air bit through her clothing as the door slid wide, and the distant sound of honking cars crept up from below. She spared the city's burgeoning nightlife a glance, and then her Potential flared to life. A broad platform of luminescent pink stretched out from the platform's edge, and without missing a beat, Passeri lightly stepped onto it.

"A private elevator, built for two." A grin behind her mask, Passeri extended a hand to her protégé for the night. "Express service, straight up! Make sure you've got everything you need. I'm not gonna be making any pit stops."

 

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