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

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Kisara McDowell
SCENE:
KAIJU!
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
PARTICIPANTS:
Kisara, Sang-cheol
KAIJU!

“Gufoh!” She emitted a strangled, muffled sound as the head of the costume made contact with her face. She stumbled back, reeling. She whipped around to face her opponent once more. It stung, but it didn’t actually hurt. She was, however, obligated to sell the hits as well as she could, whether if it was for their audience, or for her opponent. There was, after all, nothing better than riling up the crowd, to get them on the edge of their seats, wondering who would come out on top, and there was no better opponent than one who would believe that they had a fighting chance. Those were the ones who would give all that they could at the hint of hope.

“Crabs?!” She thumbed her nose, and stood up straight, fists on her hips. “Soft-shelled crabs, perhaps! Come, hit me with your best shot, serf! I’ll show you why, exactly, I am King!”



Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Peyton Xiong
SCENE:
Crash and Burn
LOCATION:
Peyton's Old Apartment, East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || Two Weeks Later
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Jackson
Crash and Burn
In and out. That was Peyton's plan. It would take less than thirty minutes to go to his old home in the East and grab what he needed. Then he would be out. He didn't want to be there for any longer than he had to, lest some of the former Dragons decided it would be a good idea to jump him.

Throughout the entire tram ride to his house, Peyton's heart was pounding with dangerous adrenaline. And not the good feelings of adrenaline that Peyton lived for. No, this was the nerve-wracking sort of adrenaline. Would Kairong come and make him regret his choice? Was Jesper going to kill him with a drone? Was the Ace watching his every move at the moment? Peyton didn't want to think of the possibilities. This was just like when he first joined the Dragons after leaving the Serpents, except back then he didn't need to worry about moving out.

The apartment building, rotting in its foundation, was highly nostalgic as Peyton stared at it. Navy blue walls and a pleasant beige-colored door. The blinding white fluorescent lights, the hard carpet, the cracked white tiles... it wasn't a good living environment, but it was home. And now he was leaving forever to live with August up in the North.

As Peyton unlocked the door and looked at the mess that he left everything in, he zoned in on the one article of furniture that he needed. He didn't need to worry about the other things in the house; they were either replaceable or Peyton didn't care about them. And the cleaners would be by later to clean up the place before Peyton's lease ended. But he still needed to get this one thing that he traveled so far into enemy territory to grab.

But just how the heck was he going to bring an entire couch back to the North? The quilts draped over it could be put into Peyton's bag, and he could definitely carry the couch with his HP strength, but how was he getting that on the train?

While in the middle of his thinking, which was a skill that Peyton was lacking, he forgot about the door. It remained wide open for anybody to walk in.

BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
Dante Aguilar
CS Link
SCENE:
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth
TIME:
April 3rd, 2022
LOCATION:
Blast-Off DVDs, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Shishido Takakazu ( thebigfella thebigfella ), Dante Aguilar
Returning Back Something You Don’t Own Is Basically Childbirth

They were going fast. God damn they were going fast.

“What the fuck is going on?”— All he could see was an all-encompassing white; the world was a whole sheet of blank, blinding, white paper. A blank giant, overarching, stretching over his eyes. Everything was a daze. Everything was a puzzle. All he could do is hear the hustle-bustle of the raging road buzzing past his ear, feel it under his feet.

And so, he heard; felt.

Gas. Bump. Swerve. And they were off again.

Something sharp, something quick— the motion yanked his whole body along with it.

Didn’t help that his head was reeled all the way back to Cerb’s chest, eyes at the moonlit skies, taking in all the glare coming off the street lamps they’d pass. He didn’t necessarily need eyes to make out the blanks. There most likely wasn’t that much of a headway on this road, not with them on it. All the swearing, blaring horns and screaming they would soar by gave him clear enough of an image.

Dante felt the scooter swivel as it hit another turn, heard tires screeching in agony, the sounds soon exploding into a crash. Bits and pieces—of what he’d hoped to be nicks of a shattered windshield— caught him on the back, peppering his leather jacket like tiny shotgun pellets as they’d gone ahead of whatever had just happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON????” — He came back to Cerberus’ grasp, away from Tak’s shoulder. From the ringing in his ears, he heard the guy mocking him. He pressed his forehead to his back, leaning in to sulk and hide away from the light, groaning as the world started to come back into his eyes.

“F…uck off…!” — Dante coughed out a chuckle, grunting at the sour, nasty aftertaste burned on his palate— of course, finding the time to return the jab back at Tak. He had to give credit where credit was due, Tak had managed not to flip the damned thing over and get them both killed. Not yet. He had some level of skill behind the wheel. Behind a handle-clutch, in this case.

What Dante would soon come to find out as well, is that Tak also had the attention span of a twelve-year-old, apparently.

“Hey…” — He peeked first, rising to look over Tak’s shoulder as the scooter began to wobble. Eyes wide as plates, he somehow managed to get paler than he already was. It was then that he noticed the sudden lack of road up ahead.

“Hey, hey, hey, HEY!” — Dante began to chant-scream in a panic, tugging at Tak’s shirt. His black nails dug deep into Tak’s shoulders like a startled house cat once the wheels started to trail smoke and burnt rubber, perking up and going stiff when they were off the ground.

They hung there on thin air, until the scooter slammed back down on solid ground. Dante was already foaming at the mouth; his soul was beginning to leave his body. As if she knew, Cerberus strapped him tighter into his seat. They were headed for a bumpy road.

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-“ — The wolf’s shape bounded up and down with the uneven slope, mouth hanging wide open like a toddler riding down a roller coaster. She was still having the time of her life. Dante, on the other hand, was feeling like he’d head-hopped to another dimension.

It was dark, he could still make some things out, but everything was a blur. It looked like they were passing through the bowels of a giant, smelled like it too. His head was craned back, hair riding a one-sided wind current. He slowly dragged his eyes up to glance at Cerberus smiling down at him. The whole seven-foot-something of hers, half of her head grinding on the ceiling of the grimy tunnel.

Just how the hell did they go from ‘Let’s return that DVD’ to this?

When the scooter wobbled from one side to the other, Dante didn’t even notice it.

All he knew is that they were going through a sewer tunnel, flowing down its discharge. Flying through it, rather. He knew that, at some point it was supposed to end on a messy, shit-smelling dive with God knows what dredging at the very bottom. Either that or a plain splatter into a wall. But that was at some point, right? And they weren’t at that point…

right?

He side-eyed the stream of guck-water the wheels of the scooter hovered over. Sewer water beginning to pick up a slower pace, flowing further and further away. That’s when he looked ahead, the realization smacking him across the face as hard as the foul-stench had been hitting his nose —“Holy shi—”

“GYA—HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!” — He closed his eyes and sucked in damp air through his clenched teeth, instinctively looking away. Before the both of them knew anything else, Dante and Tak would’ve felt light. A swirl of air, a tug on their shirt’s collar, and they were catapulted several feet up in the air. That homeless man’s drawers were there soaring the moonlit skies with them too.

The scenery switched from constant splashes of water and a roaring engine to sharp, cold wind. Pressing against their faces and breathing up their clothes. The wolf was there tugging at them like they were a pair of human kites, billowing and waving as she started to descend fast. It wasn’t a graceful landing either.

She thundered down with both idiots in each hand, two other claws formed at her back to carry the scooter. They ended up crashing down at a seemingly random parking lot, casting a crater that split cracks throughout the pavement. She steadied herself and placed the two of them on the ground.

Dante’s eyes held a bright glow on them, a foreign one, from an over-bearing neon sign just across the road. He fell to his knees, something churning and twisting at his stomach. The front of his hair was standing and his breath hitched like he’d just ran a marathon. He gave it a wide-eyed, annoyed expression as he went to read the sign again, mouthing — “Blast-off DVDs.”

Dante’s head dipped and he sighed — “Holy fuck, that was stupid…”

“Aghh...“
— He felt a sour, acid taste bubbling at his throat. He spat it out — “I’m never getting on that scooter again...” — He pushed on one knee back to a stand, wiping a corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“And fuck your defining character design, shoulda’ barfed all over your dumbass.”

“C’mon, man! It was fun!”

“Ugh… Whatever. Let’s just go.”— Dante placed one hand on his temple, the headache was already starting to split his skull open. He raised a chin at her, eyes going over Tak’s scooter — “Put that piece of junk down, we gotta go.”

 
Last edited:
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
KAIJU!
LOCATION:
North District, Lab Icarus
TIME:
Pre Arc-3 | April 18th 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Kisara
KAIJU!

To the crowd that Kisara was entertaining, they were screaming but not in a fun way. Most of the workers were trying to put out the flames that Sang-Cheol caused upon his entrance and trying to repair the broken walls. In the distance, Gerda was running around with something in her hands. "Oh, no. It'd be terrible if I accidentally dropped this- Whoops!" All of a sudden, Gerda tripped over Hubert.

The object in Gerda's hand was a flash. That flash was now sailing through the air toward the fighting duo that was tussling around amid the waves of destruction and dust. With a loud crack, it released the substance into the air.

In the next instant, the roof of Lab Icarus was broken through by two figures.

On one side was the King of Monsters, Prinz Gyoushi!

On the other side was the Kaiju, Sang-Dora!

"YOU'LL REGRET COMING HERE!" In his anger, Sang-Cheol failed to realize that he was now as tall as a building and proceeded to throw Kisara down to the ground. The body destroyed one-half of the lab, but Sang-Cheol wasn't done yet. Without any strategic tactic in mind, he proceeded to try and body slam Kisara while she was down.


 
Last edited:
Kisara McDowell
SCENE:
A Pledge to Tender Moments
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Kisara
A Pledge To Tender Moments

Gods be kind, she was exhausted. All that training paid off, but it was only just enough to break all of these dummies that rushed her. Had she given any less, she would be the one lying face down on the dirt instead of all of them. She ran the back of her hand across the corner of her mouth, smudging the blood off her face. She wasn’t strong enough yet. She had to get stronger. She had to be stronger. So strong that she wouldn’t ever be put down like this again. She rubbed her arms. Damn it, it hurt.

“You- You’re kinda dumb aren’tcha? Why didn’t you run? You were clearly outnumbered.” Jackson’s voice took her out of her mental room. Why did he step in to help her? This was her fight. Not that she was going to yell at him about it. She would have done the same for him, too! There wasn’t much point in criticising him for something she would do. That was called being a hippocrit. Or something like that. She wasn’t much of a fan of being a hippo.

But dumb? Yeah, she probably was. But did he really expect her to run? Especially when outnumbered? She who tested her strength against the weak would find no challenge, and no growth. And running was the mark of a coward. She was no coward. God, devil, angel, demon, monsters, humans, animals, whatever it was, Kisara McDowell was not about to back down. If they stood in her way, she would break them down.

I don’t run–” she cut herself, realising that she had unconsciously slipped back into her dour self again. She straightened up, and tried again. “I mean- Kisara McDowell runs from no thing, be it beast or man!” she announced, putting as much verve as she could into her voice.

She spun around towards the downed children, her hands on her hips as she offered them a proud and loud laugh. “WAH HAH HAH HAH! Do you hear that?! I, Kisara McDowell, will fight you again, any day of the week! With such pitiful strength, you cannot hope to vanquish,” she closed her eyes, and drew one hand over her face, before throwing it outwards towards them, her eyes snapping open again, “the great evil that is Kisara McDowell! WAH HAH HAH HAH HAH–” her prideful declaration was halted by Jackson’s worried examination of her injuries.

I…Are you okay? was a question that not many asked her. Bruised, bleeding, beaten, Kisara had only received such a question from very few. No one else but these handful of people would ever care if she looked like crap. She took in a deep breath, stifling the emotions that ran through her system. “I’m fine! Kisara McDowell is fine!” she announced loudly, before lowering her voice. “I am kinda messed up though,” she laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck, embarrassed. “I think,” she started, wondering what other options she had, other than to sulk back to the orphanage and get scolded by the matron again, “I think that’ll be nice. If your mom’s as cool as you, Jackie, I’ll be just fine!

Come, my minion! Let us be off!” she drew an invisible cloak around her as she turned to leave. “Let these weaklings stew in their own…uh…weakness!” With that, she pushed Jackson away from the scene. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s go!



BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
Dagger / Alisa Vassiliev
SCENE:
Sweet Talkin' Woman
TIME:
December 22nd, 2021 | Pre Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Dollhouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger
Sweet Talkin' Woman

“No." Dagger answered simply. There was no time. Even if she had wanted to stay here longer to admire their selections, the simple fact was that the longer they stayed here, the sooner someone would either recognise them or remember their faces.

"Fleck,” she motioned towards the third woman, as if she was another one of her wolves. She pulled out the rest of the money in her pocket, took the woman’s hand, and placed the cash in it. “Here’s the rest of it. There’ll be extra if you keep the bartender's eyes off us."

The woman pulled her hand away, and thumbed through the notes. "This bonus better be good. I'm putting my neck on the line here."

Dagger grunted, yet another telltale sign about how well-versed she was in the art of conversation. Fleck scoffed, and sauntered off towards the bartender. From where she and Park were, she could hear her putting on a cheerful tune, and immediately started to drop her gossip and complaints on the man.

Dagger returned her attention to the door, examining the side of the door away from the handles. No hinges. The door opened inwards. This shouldn't be a problem. She readied her knife and jammed the blade into the gap between the door and its frame. She jiggled the knife, pushing the latch back into the door, until the knife slid further into the gap. She rested her body against the door, keeping it shut, but kept the knife in the frame. With her free hand, she unholstered her gun from behind her.

"On three," she said to Park. She had completely forgot that she was, yet again, not traveling with a member of her squad. It didn't matter though, did it? 'On the count of 3' was common sense and basic knowledge. She raised the gun up and clamped down on its barrel between her teeth, as she steadied herself on the door, hand on the knife and the handle. She held up one finger, then two, and then three, before pulling the door open, removing the knife at the same time, and delved into the musty dimly lit room within. The gun came free from her teeth but its barrel was directed straight at the ground.

She didn't want to use this unless she had to.



 
Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman
SCENE:
Bedlam Blitz!
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2021; Early morning
LOCATION:
Whiteleaf, South District; Behind an ATV Store...
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Leaf, Zach
BEDLAM BLITZ!
Raquel’s voice over the phone was annoyingly seductive to Boltius. Begrudging attraction, as he could not bring himself to overlook her… eccentric appetite. In fact, it disgusted him, and so he often regarded her with distaste.

When she said it—“How about I take a piece out of you, Bolt.”—he shot a glaring glance at the phone in the cup-holder and clicked his tongue, not in the mood. However, his features softened slightly when she apologized, but he didn’t respond, instead letting his gaze find Leaf in the rear-view.

“Marriage?” Bolt cocked a brow, eyeing the road now.

Milo then, “More like, 'Speak now, or forever hold your pee',” and Boltius grinned, a weak spot for his dear friend.

“I don't know about the wedding part, but it's the first one, yes. Peace like in peaceful,” another added. Boltius glanced at the rear-view to find Yukari, one of Hector’s sponsees. Today’s undertaking would serve as a test of mettle for that one; a gauging of his worth as a Veteran Phoenix.

Yukari opened a bag of chips and the initial rustle gave Boltius pause—no eating in the Denali—but he quickly remembered that the Denali was utterly dusted in the earthquake. A pang shot through his heart, three years worth of memories flashing across his mind as the current SUV struggled across the pavement. Sputtering and gasping like eighty-year-old Jack and Jill still hiking that blasted hill for a pale of fucking water.

“Anyone want some?”

“Nah, I don’t-”

“Too bad, not sharing.”

Boltius pinched his lips, inhaling slowly through the nose. That was annoying.

“So, peace as in peaceful,” he muttered, turning right down a residential street, glancing back and forth at the GPS on his phone.

“What they said, Beckman-Bro.” Zach.

Boltius frowned at that. He loved Vulken more than anything, but he didn’t love being held in his shadow. Part of him wanted to retort on a hateful whim, but he held back and focused on driving.

“Feels like ‘piece’, like a piece of pizza, works, too,” he thought aloud. That’s when Hector threw in, “The fuck are you talking about. Pizza? Stop fucking around while I ain’t there, okay? Focus. I’ll see you all soon.”

Boltius snapped back, “BITCH, IS IT PIECE OR PEACE?” The SUV swerved. “YOU WANNA BE PART OF THE-... FUCKIN’ CONVERSATION, THEN LISTEN! QUIT SLEEPIN’!” A pause, then, “Drive safe, ya fucker.”

“What exactly are we planning on doing once there? Beyond the obvious 'beat them up', I mean,” Yukari started, going on, “Anything more concrete, or are we planning on just going in guns blazing; both figuratively and literally.”

“We’re checkin’ it out, mostly. How we approach depends entirely on what you find,” said Bolt, taking the car around the back of a closed ATV store where the cityscape seemed to transition abruptly into a wide-reaching dirt track of humps and slopes. Beneath the dark sky, for it was early enough that the sun was still sleeping, one might mistake it for an ocean what’s waves were frozen in place.

Bolt put the SUV in park and got out, leaving the engine idle.

Adjoining the lot was their destined Echo Whisper Pointe, separated by a chain link fence beyond which the geography became forested—jagged shadows that reached high, painted a deep indigo by the splash of moonlight overhead so that you knew they were trees. The gaps between them, however, were pitch black. Not a light within.

“Why does this feel like the beginning of a horror movie.”

“Can I help you lot?”

Boltius whirled around in seeking the source of the unfamiliar voice, squinting at the glaring light that was suddenly thrust upon them. “Ack- You can start by shinin’ that shit somewhere else.”

The light was directed toward the ground.

“Store doesn’t open ‘til nine… Track’s open at noon.”

Boltius looked amongst the Phoenixes. “Uhh…” He shrugged, casting his gaze back upon the man, “We’re just here for the view, pops.”

No response.

Boltius scratched his ear and averted his gaze.

The man studied them with beady, black eyes. Then, after a moment, he sighed and put a hand up, “Now, listen, I- I-... I done told y’all that I don’t want no troubles... If you can give me two months, I can get you more wheels, but right now business is…” The man gave an exasperated scoff, “I’m…” another huff, “Tell your King I’m doin’ what I can.”

“Uh, what?” Boltius shot the man a loose finger-gun.

“Armond. Tell him I’ll get y’all yer ATVs. I’m good for it. I won’t let y’all down. Last enemy I need is the Phoenixes.”

Boltius knew no Armond… but he knew the Phoenix King, and he was fairly confident she never went by Armond.

Letting a bit of irritation seep into his voice, Bolt made habitual, haphazard gestures with his hands as he spoke, “Listen, old man, I dunno what the fuck yer on about, but if you got business with the Phoenixes, we’re your guys. Who the fuck is Armond?” He held his arms out and turned in a circle, looking around as if Armond could be spotted ducking behind one of the many dunes scattered about the dirt track.

The man’s eyes went wide. He took a step back, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Wh- I- I… No, I… Your… Your associates say he’s your King.” He trembled with old age, but surely some of it was fear working its way into his bones. “If I’m wrong on that, then by good fortune I apologize.”

Turning away from the discussion, rolling his eyes, Boltius reached into the vehicle and took his phone from the cup holder, holding it level with his chin as he spoke, “Yo, either a’ you know an Armond?...”
BOLTIUS NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: The gang reaches their destination. Boltius parks the SUV behind a closed ATV store of which the back yard is a wide-open dirt track. An old man comes out to confront them and says some questionable things.

— —TEMPERATURE: Neutral

— —TATTOO: (Click Here)

— —WEARING: (Click Here)

(Interacting w/ Milo, Hector, Leaf, Yukari, Zach, Raquel)
(Mentioned Vulken)

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Misuteeku Misuteeku QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel @Astrylan Haze- Haze-
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Living in the Shadows
TIME:
Nighttime, Pre-Arc 1, June 10th 2020
LOCATION:
Falcon's Perch, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Helva
Living in the Shadows

"Fried Rice for table 22!"

"Got it!"


Charlie zoomed around the restaurant's lounge, noting down the orders from the customers as well as constantly bringing in quantities of platters from the kitchen's window, each carrying food that exuded intoxicating aromas. Tonight was a particularly busy one, with the great majority of seats being occupied by now. This was arguably Charlie's best-paying job that he had gotten his hands on ever since he moved to South District, he was finally, for a change, feeling somewhat lucky, so even if today required him to be moving around all night, he didn't mind too much, the tips would be worth it, even if he gained a couple blisters in his feet by the end.

He took a short break back at the kitchen, drinking a glass of ice-cold water as he watched the cooks work non-stop to get all the dishes out in time, whenever he did, it reminded him of his own culinary abilities, or rather his lack thereof...Maybe he could start practicing with fresh ingredients tomorrow if the pay was good! But at least for tonight, his dinner was most likely going to be leftovers, they were good leftovers though, so not like he was going to complain about it.

With break time over a few minutes later, Charlie stepped out from the kitchen, with newfound energy and enthusiasm to work. He took a couple orders from some customers before landing on a table, where a black haired woman continued to read the menu.

"Good evening, Miss! What would you like to order?" Said Charlie as he rested the tip of his pen on his notepad



Peckinou Peckinou
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
The Ties that Bond Us
TIME:
Daytime, Post Arc 3
LOCATION:
Noodle Nirvana, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Jesper
The Ties that Bond Us
It was...Quite shocking, to say the least. Charlie didn't quite catch the event live, but just a few hours later, the news were on the internet, quickly reaching the Phoenix's regular browsing. It made sense, ever since he met Jesper, the introverted boy had always been of the elusive and secretive kind, never giving away any sort of information that wasn't absolutely necessary, such as his address, most of his past, or hell, even his last name, but the reason for it all was now unveiled. Jesper Albrecht, son of Lars Albrecht, owner of the Albrecht Industries, a multi-million empire, infamous for its known connections with none other than the Azure Dragons. The Phoenix didn't know how to react to the news, although it was not a relieving discovery by any stretch of the imagination, at best he was somewhat related to the Dragons, and at worst...He was one of them. A message ringed from his phone not long after finding out...It was him, he wanted them to meet, Ten was also included, but they haven't shown signs of life for a while now, something that also had Charlie worried, but all in due time, now he needed to face the reality of one of his closest friendships possibly being in jeopardy, and thus, he accepted the invitation.

_____


Charlie walked up to the assigned location: Jesper's favorite ramen place, and with sheer resignation, he opened the door. The entrance door bell rang, announcing his arrival in an unnecessary manner. He looked around, almost immediately spotting that head covered in shoulder-length white locks. Charlie sighed, taking a seat right next his friend.

"Hey..." Was all he could mutter right away, not really able to tell what could possibly be the next thing to say, especially with what he might have to admit on his own end soon enough. He reached for the menu nearby on the counter, unfolding it in order to read its contents. "So...I guess you have some things to tell me" There was no animosity in his words, but his tone did not indicate any sort of cheerfulness either. Before Jesper could say anything, Charlie closed the menu, sliding it back to its original place.

"Excuse me! I'll have a tonkotsu ramen please, with extra shiitake" He told to the lady on the other side of the counter, before turning his gaze towards his friend, expectantly.



AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
I Would Like to See Your Permit
TIME:
Nighttime, December 2021, Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Lower Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lorette, Eric
I WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOUR PERMIT

#CCA419
Once he arrived at the center of the park, Eric took a minute to stretch. With his legs stiff and straight, the detective lowered his torso forward, hands reaching down for the floor as much as he could, then, he pulled his arms up and then back, slowly but sure, he could feel the burning pain of muscles and ligaments being stretched to their hardest limit, fibers breaking which would soon reattach stronger than before, the basic concept for any kind of physical workout, really. He took a moment to sit down and relax by the park's fountain, taking a small sip of water from his bottle, which he carried in his runner's fanny pack. He looked at the people from Lower Central spend their evening peacefully at the park, quite a lot of people going around tonight, in fact. Eric wasn't a huge fan of crowds like this, he personally prefered when the park was far emptier, turning it into an ideal napping spot, but to each their own, he guessed.

From the corner of his eyes, something strange called to his attention. It wasn't anything extraordinary, unlike the usually flashy events that plagued both his job, and the city as a whole, this looked very unremarkable by comparison. An older woman, eagerly striking a conversation with a bunch of people, many kids surrounding them, it was easy to assume that those adults were most likely the kids' parents or guardians. Again, in a city such as New Oasis, this was something that normally would make people lose interest almost immediately...But Eric knew well, through his years in service to the police, that evil thrived under the concealment of the mundane. Why was she talking to a gather group of people, in the middle of a park in lower central district, at night to boot. The woman was suspiciously well-dressed too, now why would someone with such fancy attire would take the effort to come to a mundane place such as this. Then, there was the dead giveaway that made his suspicion rise to new heights: She handed something to the parents around her, business cards, perhaps? Then, the woman took a hastily retreat from the small congregation.

Eric sighed, just one day of tranquil workout, that's all he wanted, and yet something suspicious takes place right in front of his face. A small part of him thought of the idea of just letting it slide, move along with his life, return home, take a nice shower and maybe eat a sad salad, that would certainly be nice, wouldn't it? Yeah, as if. Eric's sense of duty may not be the brightest, the loudest or the most overbearing, but it was certainly unshaken, he could never allow himself to let something like this go before at least making sure nothing real shady was going on. He stood up, moving towards the retreating woman in something of a middle point between walking and jogging, just until he was a few meters away from her.

"Excuse me, ma'am, may I know what you were doing back there?"


Ramjammer Ramjammer
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
A Lion's Pride
LOCATION:
The Tiger's Lair, West District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
PARTCIPANTS:
Mugen, Camila, Tak, Ryutaro, Welsha, Passeri, Dagger, Hiachi, Eustass
A Lion's Pride
The dark clouds continued to churn above the sky, their cover circumscribing the surrounding atmosphere, acting as the grim premonition of what will soon come to pass. Showers continued within the concrete jungle, dripping down street lights and sliding off the tops of cars to seep into the ground and form puddles. The droplets caused ripples to skip across the surface, reflecting the flash of lightning that lit up the skies above.


Once again, there was thunder. But it did not ring through the sky. Instead, it echoed through the interior of a room, reverberating off the beige-painted walls. It was not the boom brought forward by rapidly expanding air…

But, the sound of a sphincter rupturing.

“Dammmmmmnnn! I shouldn’t have eaten those eggs in the back of my fridge! Who’s the that fuck had the idea that green eggs were supposed to be tasty!?” The loud complaints of a man came from behind a set of bathroom stalls. His form was obscured by the thick metal door; the only thing visible was a pair of dirty white shoes and the loose black track pants hanging around his hairy ankles.

“If I keep this up, it ain’t gonna be long til I get hemorrhoids and gotta start putting medicine up my ass.”

The splashing of rain puddles was replaced by the sloshing of toilet water, and the rain pattering against brick walls interchanged with the splattering against porcelain.

“I need to hurry up and get back before stuff starts happenin’.” Tak outwardly reminded himself of his purpose of being here in the first place as the view shifted to show him sitting inside the toilet stall, his arms resting on his bare legs as he looked forward blankly.

“Alright, time to wipe up….” His hand motioned over, going to reach for the toilet paper holder beside him. His fingers gripped at the sheet hanging out, crinkling it between them as he tugged downward.

The scant sound of the paper tearing happened out of view, as Tak’s empty eyes came to the focus of perspective until slowly his hand raised in front of him, holding the tiny sliver of toilet paper in his hand, looking at it blankly.

Sweat began to form around his forehead as his hand began to shake slightly, his mouth drooping open as his eyes gradually moved down to look and see if his truest fears had become a reality.

Devoid of any soft, white, patterned salvation, a cardboard tube hung from the holder, the circular streaks of adhesive wrapped around the empty tube.

“N-No way… there’s no more toilet paper!?” Tak roared his shock as his spine gave out, his body folding forward like a closed book as his head dropped into his knees, the last piece of toilet paper falling out of his hands onto the ground.

He snappily rose back to sit up straight, fists clenched as he slammed one against the stall wall. “How the hell do you run out of toilet paper in a place like this!? They can afford pretty white marble statues but can’t afford to pay someone to keep the most important blank canvas in their bathrooms stocked!”

Loudly vocalizing his complaints for no one to hear, Tak slid himself off the toilet seat, letting his knees drop to the ground as his pants and underwear still hung around his ankles, deducing his next step to save himself from his current predicament. “I just need to check the other stalls; they gotta have some toilet paper.”

Squeezing himself under the opening to the next-door stall, he blindly reached his hand up to where its toilet paper would be located, and after a brief bit of searching around, he felt the familiar, comforting tenderness of a 2-ply sheet.

*rip*

Once again, he held a tattered sheet of toilet paper in front of his face. His sweating had gone from just his forehead to his whole face, from a slight shake in his hand to a full-on shiver as his pupils dilated.

“S-Surely the other stall has some--”

*rip*

Another half-piece of tissue situated itself in front of his vision. His grayish-blue eyes had gone bloodshot, as blood had begun to pour out of the corner of his eyes, holding the paper so hard between his fingers that his nails had started to dig into his flesh.

“GUAAAAAHGHHHH!”

Tak burst out of the stall, nearly blowing the door off the hinges as he rushed toward the sink, stumbling as his pants still dangled around his legs. He braced his hands against the marble sink top, breathing heavily as his crazed look met him back in the mirror.

“How isn’t there a single piece of toilet paper in this place!? I don’t even need a full roll! I’ll even take one 1-ply at this point!” So he hopelessly bargained as if the gods of toilet paper were watching and might decide to relent at him.

Calming his breathing, he swallowed; all he had to do was think rationally, “Well, if they don’t have toilet paper, then they gotta at least have paper towels!” He realized another way out of this situation, head swiftly turning to look for a toilet paper dispenser.

Then, he saw it in all its horror. Its finely polished metal case shimmered under the golden light.

“A HANNNNNNND DRYEEERRRRRR?!”

His reality was absorbed into darkness, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he reached up to pull at his hair; lightning struck from the heavens and coursed through his body, flashing bright blue as his entire form was submerged in static.

His body went limp, falling against the cold ceramic floor as he lifelessly twitched, smoke wafting from his open mouth. It was only a moment till he regained his composure, using his arms to lift himself up from the bathroom floor and looking towards the door.

“I gotta see if I can get someone to get me some paper! There’s a bunch of Tigers out there! One gotta be able to run and get me something!” He hurriedly scrambled back up to his feet, the fact his legs were still restrained by his pants causing him to flounder a bit as he braced himself against the door, grabbing the knob.

“I just hope that things haven’t started yet--”

Before Tak could finish vocalizing his hope, as he cracked the door open, he was blasted with a burst of ominously colored intensity as if the pressures of the room acclimated to return to equilibrium. When it finally stopped, a clear look of apprehension was on his features as he leaned towards the crack, wedging part of his face through it to peek through.

Immediately, he noticed the massive difference in the atmosphere when he left. The look on everyone’s faces and the way they stood showed a potent anxiety in the air that made it hard to breathe.

“OOOOOII! What the hell is everyone so tense for!? What happened?! Did someone bust out a stick of gum and didn’t share!?” Once again, sweat began to form around Tak’s face, his focus darting around the room as he tried to piece together what was happening until it finally fixated on the center of the room.

The perturbed gaze in his eyes melted away, his eyes lidding as his fixation narrowed. A man who commanded everyone’s attention, his figure staunch as he stood, the word ‘indomitable’ didn’t do him justice. Despite not being anywhere close to him, Tak could feel his presence.

As he looked directly at the look in his eyes. He couldn’t quite describe it; it was not the frigid chill that you’d find in most people who looked in such a way. Instead, it was something rooted deeper, a heat that only intensifies the longer you bore past the crust as if digging closer to the planet’s core. A predator looking for a chance to pounce but not holding the ferocity of a starving beast. Its taste for blood came not from hunger but from a desire to placate something much more.

Tak couldn’t begin to understand it, but as he looked at Mugen, he unknowingly clenched his fingers, nails digging into the wooden door frame, his breath naturally going to a shaky timbre, subduing itself as if he tried to keep his presence hidden. His teeth clenched, and the uncertainty brought with it curiosity as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Who…no, What is he?”

It was a question he ultimately couldn’t answer at the time. But he understood now why the climate in the surroundings had changed so drastically.

Finally, he tore his eyes away from Mugen, focusing on the trio of unfamiliar faces in the background. They demanded just as much attention as he did. Tak could tell, just from a glance at them, that their concentration was solely encompassed by one man. Despite being surrounded by tigers, they fearlessly looked away from the beast, instead gazing loyally at the back of their leader.

Tak stared at them suspiciously, silently observing from his place in the bathroom. Something was bothering him as he looked over the three; he wasn’t sure why.

Then, his eyes opened wide, a realization going through him that caused him to nearly shove his head through the door, forehead bracing against the crack he had made.

“T-THAT’S IIIIIIIIIIIIT!”

He internally screamed amid his epiphany, mouth hanging open as his cheeks sunk in themselves, defining the bones in his face.

“How didn’t I see it before!?”

Taks’ mental spotlight flashed onto Daiki as if the whole area had suddenly become a stage show, his shadow cast across the background.

“He’s the blonde guy who has the charisma of the group! The down-to-earth dude with his head on straight!”
The next light came alive with a click, illuminating Ryoji.

“That one is the quiet and rigid no-nonsense one! He even has a fuckin’ katana!”

Finally, the brightest light shone onto Eustass from above.

“There’s even a redhead with a fiery personality! The one who’s always ready to go crazy when you let him off the leash! The attack first ask questions later type!”

Tak’s eyes scrunched closed as he put all the pieces together, “That bastard….” He breathed out as his eyes shot back open; he looked back at Mugen with a look that rivaled the caution he had displayed before.

“HE HAS A WHOLE FUCKIN’ CLIQUE LIKE HE’S IN A DAMN MANGAAAAAAAA!”

Tak exploded with jealousy and envy, gripping his shirt as he nearly tore it off; as he clutched it in anger, he stumbled and wobbled away from the door.

He approached the nearby hand dryer, placing his hands on opposite sides before slamming his head forward to bash against it.

“It’s not fair, damnit! How the hell does he get to have one of those!?”

Tak shouted his bitterness as he reeled his head backward, revealing the dent in the poor machine before basing his skull against it again.

“I’ve been spending every Sunday practicing the Turtle School teachings! I’ve even been eating weirdly colored fruit at the farmer’s market! Where the hell is my fuckin’ posse!? I wanna be a main character!”

As he complained more and more, he continued to bash his head against the machine until he finally stopped with his forehead resting against it. Blood had begun to pull from his forehead and trail down his face, going past his eyes and down his chin as he breathed heavily, looking at the ground with bloodshot eyes.

It was in this blood loss and pain that he came to a realization.

“...I know what I need to do.”

He pulled himself back from the hand dryer, placing his hands on his hips as he bore a grim frown, the lifeless look his eyes usually wore replaced with a determined gleam.

“I’m going to join that clique of his!”

Then, he slowly looked down at himself, pants still hanging around his legs.

“...But first, I need some toilet paper….”

How was he supposed to get anyone’s attention while this was happening, though!?
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Cleaning Duty
TIME:
Nighttime, February 19th 2022, Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Inigo, Eric
CLEANING DUTY

As Eric Pulled out the civilians from the inside area of the counter, dragging them around like a pair of ragdolls, by now the criminals had managed to recover their sight completely, and now aware of the situation, proceeded to open fire on the fleeing detective. However, Eric only needed to steer a little to the side in order to take cover behind the grand wall of crystal erupted by his trusty sergeant companion. Bullets clashed against the mineral construct, not a single one of the projectiles ever hoping to possibly go through it. Eric kicked the entrance door open, somewhat roughly letting go of the civilians.

"You guys need to go, we'll take care of the rest"

Confused and scared, the civilians stared at Eric for a solid second, before finally understanding their situation properly, they bowed and let out simple "thanks!" as they ran away from the area. Eric sighed, relieved that the most delicate part of the issue was over. He reached over for his walkie talkie, pulling it close to his face. "HQ this is Detective Evensen, hostages are safe and sound, we'll proceed to take care of the aggressors now, no need for backup at the moment but have them prepared just in case." Without even bothering to wait for a reply, the Detective place his device back into his belt, and charged back inside the bar.

"Hey Honey, I'm back"

The blonde delinquent finally got back up on his feet, holding his open hand against the nasty bruise on his face from the kick. "Fuckin' hell, these pigs are oners!" He shouted at his allies, fear and doubt instilled in him by Inigo's threatening words.

"SO WHAT? ME TOO, MAN!" The bat-wielding delinquent leaped through the air, his weapon bathed itself in a lavender light and he was airborne. His attacked landed against the crystal wall, its energy enhancement rippling through the construct, damaging it severely.

"Alright, Ini, let's just clean this place, alright? And again, please, just keep the lethal force to a minimum, only if completely necessary, got it?"

Eric dashed past the left side of the wall, condensing light in his hand in order to shoot new projectiles.


Oner (pronounced One-er): Slang for HPs that consist of the 1%, everybody should start using this term because it's cool 😎


simj26 simj26
 
JESPER ALBRECHT
SCENE:
Meeting 101
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jesper, Milo
Meeting 101
Like a child witnessing snow for the first time, Jesper remained frozen in awe.

The drawing itself was amazing, but it was what came after—rising from the page itself—that was truly magical.

Eyes sparkling, Jesper almost let his own drone slip from his hands, just marveling at the replica. "That's so cool!" His voice was tight yet squeaking, as if he was trying not to wake a sleeping person. His eyes darted between the drawn drone and the real one. "It's just like it!"

Jesper laughed a delighted laugh, devoid of the fear from earlier.

When he looked at the other boys, he quieted. Still, it was a new shyness than anything else. "Milo, right...?" He took a breath, laying the box down. Jesper's eyes sparkled. "Does it last forever? Can you make a million bajillion things at once? Can you make anything?"

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
JESPER ALBRECHT
SCENE:
White Noise
LOCATION:
Central District, Paradise Gardens
PARTICIPANTS:
Jesper, Milo
White Noise
Jesper shot up at the sudden voice. He instinctively looked towards the clearing—the crack in the garden's defense where Milo and Nanami charged out like wolves.

Except, it was only Milo, and he entered properly.

Jesper forced a smile. "Hey...!" His response came a little quieter than he'd hoped for. And suddenly, the nerves were all shooting up; as if they conspired for this very moment. Was this the right move? Maybe we drifted apart for a reason? What does one say after greeting...?

As Milo came nearer, Jesper's gaze fell to the side. "I'm sorry..." For what? For what? "About Nanami. And... not keeping up since we last met." He winced at his own words. Eyes fell to the same spot of grass where Nanami had encircled him, but his gaze didn't linger for long. This meeting was different.

"You know, if you went around to the East, I could have found you." Could I have found him? "I mean, you didn't need to be alone in Central all this time... My family is rich. I could have done something to help."

Jesper still hadn't met Milo's eyes, nor did he know how he himself felt. Anger? Guilt? Maybe a "How have you been" was a better start than diving into the subject. Regardless, no matter how dry his throat felt, what's said is said. He nervously spun the tip of his shoe on the dirt.

Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
High School To Be Named, East District
DATE:
August 2018 || Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Hiachi, NPCs a la @miki and Brii
Double Displacement

He let a large exaggerated sigh at her question. What did he want? For fucks sake he’d asked if she was okay like three times only to be completely ignored each time. He pulled her backpack some to drag her into sitting back down. If she wouldn’t answer he’d just check himself right? He got her sitting down and dragged another chair close by as he examined her legs for any sign of injury.

To an outsider or even the girl in front of him he must look rather odd pulling her back to her seat merely to glare at her legs. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t injuried and thus must be an hp… probably, he released her bag pushing himself back out of the chair.

“You know talking goes a long way. You’re fine, so I guess we’re done…”

He still stood in her way not yet moving. Despite saying she was free to go he spun back on her once more.

“-Actually, screw it. Just give me a damn answer already whats so goddamn bad about talking? It ain’t like- I mean, fuck it ain’t like I asked for your damn lunch money I asked if you were hurt. What type of freak can’t even answer that or give a name but responds to tell someone off for calling ‘em a fitting nickname?”

 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Back in the Game
LOCATION:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 5th
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo
BACK IN THE GAME
It was a strange homecoming.

Strange... He supposed... Because this place wasn't really ever his home at all. Just the place he'd gone to school. And not even for all that long... All things considered, it had just been a blip on the radar. But he knew that wasn't entirely true. No. To Milo, it had meant more than that.

He'd been quiet on the ride, staring solemnly out the passenger's side window. Even the route felt familiar. Nostalgic.

Maybe this was why he'd agreed to come on this mission. Or maybe he just wanted the money.

He leaned against the railing, taking in the extravagant surroundings of the upscale neighborhood in Boustan. The sights, the sounds, the smells... Everything felt cleaner, here.

So this is the real world?

The last time he'd come here, Milo had thought he was done. Done with New Oasis. Done with the past... But New Oasis isn't a city. It's a prison. A black hole that keeps a hold of you, no matter how far you go... Its pull is inexorable.

When Charlie leaned in to show Milo a meme—he'd already seen it, but didn't have the heart to tell him—he smiled and offered a gentle, empathetic chuckle.

Hitoshi beginning a brief of their mission brought Milo back to the present, and he glanced up at the luxurious apartment skyrise, wondering about their young charge. He wondered what it must've been like to grow up in a place like this, away from the terror and carnage awaited them back home. He wondered how his life might've been different if he'd have been born here, instead of there.

It was a pretty fantasy, but Milo had to deal with the present for now.

Charlie had asked about the age of the kid they were supposedly guarding, but that seemed immaterial. At least in the face of other, and in Milo's view, more pressing questions.

"Do we know anything about the client?" He asked thoughtfully.

To Milo, it seemed like an awful lot of effort to go to to hire what amounted to be three over-qualified, very expensive babysitters... And while one look around told him that their client certainly wasn't strapped for cash, he still couldn't help but wonder what kind of person would hire Scarlet Phoenixes—known for their brutality—to chaperone their child for the day? Was it even their child?

So many unknowns... Now he was wishing he'd spent the car ride over prepping, rather than staring wistfully out the window of his past!

 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
Passing The Torch
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 — September 28th, 2021 — 5:00 PM
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Reika, Doctor Slim (NPC), Boltius Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean
PASSING THE TORCH

“But-”

Reika’s poor, loyal guard dog wavered for a moment, teeth gritted as he looked between Reika and the one trying to get to her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her on his watch, he had to stay vigilant, he had to… Hector could feel the ache in his eyelids as they fought against his exhaustion. Even the mere mention of rest was a powerful blow against them, but he remained strong. It would be selfish to give in to such desires in Reika’s time of need. Looking away from everyone, he sighed.

“Do what you gotta do.”

Before he left the room, he turned back to Slim.

“Thank you.”



Hector met the gaze of every passerby, hiding nothing with his look. He was hurting, physically and emotionally, not that they’d fully understand. He said nothing to them, and nothing at all until they had passed the most populous streets. The warm, fresh evening air was a welcome break from the cold, sterile environment he had spent the past day in. The place made him shudder just thinking about it, but again, another selfish thought when Reika needed him. He shook his head, waving that train of thought away. Boltius was talking to him.

“I don’t know…” He really didn’t. He looked up at the sky. It was still blue, but the evening had crept up on him without him even realising, and the first glimpses of dusk were showing. “You must be hungry. Let’s grab food first. I don’t care where we go.” Not that he’d admit it, but the growling of his stomach was a likely contributor to his weakness right now. “I appreciate the Doc and all, but there’s a reason she’s a doctor and not a cook.” He mustered up a half-hearted exhale at his own remark.

 
TAKAONNA
SCENE:
Summer Stalking
LOCATION:
Mushi Sushi, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Tatsuya, Guinevere, Kiwi, Takaonna, Akira T.
Summer Stalking
The sensations of a soothing morning day only triggered fear and paranoia in the Takaonna. This was the time she should be in the sewers, waiting until the night to scavenge for food and whatnot. The day meant people—lots and lots of people. These people would scream and run, or attack; they were threats.

And yet...

Kiwi sat over her neck, directing the blind woman around. She was kind. Safe. She alleviated the feelings normally felt. And whatever Kiwi did to her... "cleaning," she called it... Didn't her sisters do that once in a while for her? And changing her clothes. People weren't screaming anymore.

No fight or flight.

Only walking by.

It was strange.

Only Kiwi could do something like this.

After letting her down, the Takaonna—or rather in this period of time, Shinko—let the smaller girl lead the way. This place was the origin of the food called sushi. Her sisters used to sneak these rolls to the basement after dinner for her. Shinko didn't think she'd find that food in this city.

Instead of breaking in at night like her initial, usual plan was, Kiwi proposed this move.

Only she could have made this work.

At her reminder, Shinko retracted her hands from grabbing everything, letting Kiwi lead the way. "Yes..." Shinko searched her mind. What did Kiwi say it was? "Too-nah roll...?"

gxxberkit gxxberkit Nobody Special Nobody Special The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
ERIC EVENSEN
SCENE:
Bitter Aftertaste
LOCATION:
The Cerulean Orchid, South District
TIME:
Nighttime, Post Arc 3 June 7th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Callista, Eric
Bitter Aftertaste
Eric stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, eyes fully opened as he laid on his bed. By now he had lost count of the minutes he had spent in that very same position, all the while making a futile attempt at being embraced by the influence of the night, to transport his consciousness to a realm of dreams. But reality was once again invading his thoughts a bit too harshly, the image of his fallen comrades was still seared into his retinas. He had thought that at his point in his life, he'd find himself unphased by pretty much anything, but it turned out that the borderline robotic detective still had some traces of humanity left in him.

His mind was too hazy to fall asleep, he needed to keep his brain away from the dark thoughts. However, his routine was so ingrained into his psyche that no matter what he did to distract himself out of his usual methods right now, none would probably work. Even if it was in the dead of night, he needed to get out of his apartment, and head somewhere different, a place that could give him a new perspective, perhaps.

He quickly got dressed in a simple outfit, and walked out of his place in no time, just a couple minutes later, the roaring engine of his bike was already screaming loud through the streets of central district. Against his better judgement, he decided to head to another district, again, he really needed the change of scenery right now. He traveled to South, taking in the sights of the still recovering district, its people lived the day-by-day struggling to survive not only the decadent state of their home area, but also the ruthless criminals that plagued its streets. Eventually, the neon lights of a bar's signs caught his attention. Admitedly a little cliche, to drown your sorrows in booze, letting bartender what was on your mind as the alcohol loosened your tongue. But hey, cliches are cliches for a reason, aren't they?

He entered the establishment, taking in the sights of its interior. Nice decoration, good mood, and the space was just the right size, not small enough as to make it feel cramped or claustrophobic, but not too spacious either, still giving it that classy personal feel to it. Eric sat on one of the counter's stools, making sure to get the bartender's attention.

"Hmm, new face eh? What can I getcha?"

"I'll have a white ruthenian"

"Ahh, haven't been asked to make one of those in a while, most South folks usually just want whatever makes you pass out the fastest"

"Sorry, I'm too much of a delicate flower to handle such things"


The bartender raised an eyebrow at Eric's strange comment, his expression then transitioning into a snort as he made a turn to reach for the liquors behind him.



Wxnter Wxnter
 
Dagger
SCENE:
A Lion's Pride
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Tiger's Lair, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Mugen, Camila, Tak, Ryutaro, Welsha, Passeri, Dagger, Hiachi, Eustass
A LION'S PRIDE
Her aim barely wavered from the leader's head at the sight of the sword. Slow. Sloppy. A sword was only as sharp as the mind who held it, and from the looks of things, the swordsman's blade was as dull as a rock.
"I don't care." Though blunt, the words were as sharp as her namesake, flung straight at Ryoji's own, deflecting them with precise aim. As if to hammer the point home, a flash of lightning shrouded her face in shadow, all except for the golden eye that continued to bore holes into the Mugen and his entourage. The rumble of thunder followed after.

She only acquiesced to lowering her gun when Park laid one of her hands on her firearm, grunting with some amount of reluctance. Not that the gun mattered. It was a deterrent, a flash without the bang. The determinator of who would end up lying face down in a pool of blood was how fast she could bare her fangs, and from what she had seen, it had been talk first, draw their weapons later. They made terrible bodyguards.

She let the Tigers do their bizarre dance with words. She was no longer part of this. She stepped back silently into the darkness, and, with the ease of a beast in the overcrowded undergrowth, melted into the black. King, Queen, Ace, Jack, whatever it was, whoever it was- she was their hunter.

She had killed better. This one would prove no challenge.


 
Ashley Hart
SCENE:
Bleeding Hart
TIME:
Pre Arc 1 - March 2020
LOCATION:
Reinhart Home, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ashley, Callista
BLEEDING HART
His dreams were far from pleasant. Instead of being lost in fantastical scenarios or depictions of long-held desires, he was held captive by memories of the distant and recent past. The visions of blood, rubble, and motionless bodies were cruelly faithful to what he saw back then. He tasted the red iron pooling in his mouth, felt the echoes of pain shoot through his body, and smelled the choking smoke that threatened to make his eyes well with tears.

The scenery jumped between a war-torn alley and a decayed version of Phoenix territory, both tragically decorated with piles of dead comrades. The only reprieve from those gut-wrenching sights was his consciousness going even deeper into the void, replacing vivid visuals with flashes of empty black. He was stuck in a loop of torment and then nothingness, and it lasted until he felt the sensation of his insides being torn apart.

The strange voice reached his ears just as he felt the aftershocks of pain. Still dazed and immersed in hallucinations of lost battles, he acted on instinct, grabbing at the hand that reached for his face. His upper body shot up right as his fingers curled around the blurry figure's wrist, stopping whatever perceived harm came his way. His face held the lingering expression of a wrathful, mindless beast, and the intense flare of red in his eyes cast a faint glow on the threat's fair skin. However, as his vision and the haze in his mind cleared, so did the crimson hue.

Taking in the woman's features, Ashley quickly became aware that she was not one of the enemies who razed the Emperor's domain. He then realized he wasn't even in said domain anymore. He was in a bed, surrounded by lavish fixtures and furniture. It was drastically different from the hell he came from. But when did he get here? And how? The last thing he remembered was bulldozing a path through dozens of unidentifiable intruders after taking a nasty hit to the-

"Ah, fuck!"

Wincing a bit, he once again felt the pain caused by the healing hole in his stomach. Yeah, it was all coming back to him now. He got a giant new piercing all because he felt like playing hero for some Phoenix he didn't even know. The fact that he wasn't dead yet told him that his Potential was probably doing its thing and keeping him alive, but it was hard to tell how much damage had been repaired with the bandages covering everything up. Those definitely weren't there before.

After seeing the state of his body and how it'd been cared for, he turned back to the blonde at his side. He took a good look at her, causing the loose threads of recollection in his brain to connect. He recognized the girl. She joined the Phoenixes around the same time as him, but they never really had a talk before. Not very surprising, considering that he hadn't been all that talkative since Lyric brought him into the fold.

"You're...Mary Posies? Somethin' like that, right?" As his raspy voice put the question together, he finally noticed that he still hadn't let go of her wrist. He immediately relaxed his grip and let his hand fall.

"Ah, sorry 'bout that..." There was a touch of rare remorse in his tone. He hadn't been terribly rough with her, but it still seemed like a shit thing to do to someone after they patched you up. Or at least that's what he assumed she did. "You the one who fixed me up? Thanks for that."

After expressing his gratitude, he took another quick look around the room before turning his attention back to the woman. "This don't look like HQ. Where are we? What happened? What about everyone else?"

With the new surge of energy, his mind raced with thoughts about the aftermath of the battle. Did the Phoenixes win? He wasn't dead in a ditch right now, so that was a good sign, right?


Wxnter Wxnter
 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Blank Canvas
LOCATION:
Pre-Arc 3: September 30th, 2021 - Just before 11pm
LOCATION:
Outside Red West, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Milo, Hector
BLANK CANVAS
Milo's expression was a mask. Better for everyone, Hector said. What a crock of shit he was shoveling, had shoveled down his own throat long ago. But Milo wasn't biting. Rose-tinted glasses weren't for him. Not anymore. He was seeing clearly now, perhaps for the first time in his life. He'd pulled the wool off of his own eyes, and he'd do the same for others willing to see reason. But some, he feared as he stole another glance in Hector's direction, were too far gone. Beyond salvation.

Besides, Milo knew all about the Fall. The Storm. The day that Nanami—the same thing? Milo fought to keep his hands from balling into fists. How dare this man—no, this monster—claim that they wanted the same thing. The truth couldn't be further away...

But Milo also knew that anger wouldn't get him anywhere, and he needed to try and get Hector on his side... For now.

With a forced calmness he replied, "... You're right, what I did that day wasn't helpful." It would've been, if he hadn't failed.

"But maybe... Maybe we can find some common ground, some way to work together." He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. "We might have different methods, but I'm willing to listen, to try and understand your perspective. If there's a chance for us to make a real difference, to help people, then I'm willing to explore that possibility." The words tasted like fresh bile on his tongue.

The truth was, there was nothing, no commonality between them. He wanted nothing from Hector, except to get out of his way. Otherwise, one way or another, one day, Milo would go through him. If it meant saving this city, Milo was willing to go far...

He did not yet know where his own line lay, anymore.

 
Meirin Azuza
SCENE:
Spicy Juice
LOCATION:
Eternal Night Palace (Pleasure District), East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Yushui, Peyton, Meirin, Isaiah, Hanji, Otilie, Jessamine
Spicy Juice


Looking away from Yushui as soon as the drinks were finished, Merin eagerly took the offered highball glass and gave its contents a taste. Sweet. Sour. Spicy. The combination of mango and passionfruit, added with a kick of spice and bitterness of alcohol certainly created a delightfully complex, yet heated flavor; Very heated in Meirin’s case.

“Spicy!” Meirin exclaimed, tongue sticking out as if to cool it from the burning sensations. She then giggled and winked as she answered. “But good! It tastes very good! You know what I like, Pei~”

The tingling sensations. The heat of spice that causes sweat to pour from her body as her immune system kicks in, emulating the aftereffects of training. Meirin enjoyed those feelings. She didn’t tend to drink to get high. She didn’t believe in false happiness. However, she could enjoy the taste of a well-mixed cocktail all the same and, truth be told, she’d never been one to count her cups. Her body told her all she needed to know. And, even if she believed working out her problems–physically–a better cure than washing away her woes with alcohol, Meirin wasn’t the sort to abstain either. On the contrary, she believed life was meant to be enjoyed–so long as that joy didn’t impede upon the joys of others.

Like how sex with just one person grew dull after a while, everything had its limits; Fun was fun until it stopped being fun and abusing pleasure often dulled that wonderful feeling.

Meirin just couldn’t find fun in the misery of others.

“Jackson! Jackson!” Meirin waved, eyes brightening as the blonde haired boy came into view. “No occasion. I was just telling them how we do things in ENP.”


Coyote Hart Coyote Hart @The Crimson King @Seaquill BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Tutor Turmoil
TIME:
Pre Arc 1, 2020 || November 15 || 6:45 pm
LOCATION:
Lab Icarus, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Raphael, Yuto
TUTOR TURMOIL
“Don't overthink the metaphor, darling. ~"

Raph rolled his eyes at Yuto's dog impersonations but couldn't help the ghost of a smile that played at the corners of his lips. When Yuto dismounted and sat down, looking up at him with that teasing smile, Raph just shook his head in mild amusement.

As Yuto accused him of being lonely, Raph's only response was an exaggerated sigh, playing along with the joke. "Oh, yes, woe is me," he deadpanned, sarcasm dripping from his words. But when Yuto sprang back to his feet, slapping cold hands on Raph's cheeks, the sudden temperature change was enough to startle him.

"Oi!" Raph protested, pulling away from Yuto's freezing grip. "I didn't kill anyone, you little menace," he grumbled, rubbing his now chilled cheeks. "At least, not today... Not yet, anyway." He added, a sly smirk playing across his features. Always best to leave one's options open.

"They just left to do... whatever it is they do." He waved a hand dismissively, not really caring about the details. "Now, what sort of trouble are you planning to drag me into?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Yuto, a hint of mischief in his own eyes. After all, if they were going to play, they might as well do it right.

His shirt ought to be around here somewhere...

 
AUGUST AUGUST
SCENE:
Science Snafu
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 — March 29th, 2013 — 4:00 PM
LOCATION:
August's House
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Peyton
SCIENCE SNAFU
He wasn’t a swaggering jock, August. Nor a snob. But he was used to compliments. His accent drew attention and girls fawned over his eyes, enough so that he’d become desensitized and hardly acknowledged Peyton’s kind words.

Almost.

After a stretch of silence, during which he escorted Peyton to the kitchen, he turned to face the other and, without reminding him why, said, “Thanks, mate.”

The tour proceeded into the mudroom leading to his father’s ‘man cave’, which August knew to contain something criminal-related, not to be confused with his father’s upstairs office and storage room, both of which August was not allowed to enter.

After that, they made it back to the stairs and started up.

“Do you know anything about mititis?” Peyton asked. August stayed forward-facing and cocked a brow, letting his hand glide along the stair’s railing. “Wh-... Do wot?”

“That one seems the easiest for us to do.”

August pondered. “...Guess we’ll do it then.” Though, he still didn’t know what Peyton was referring to. Mastitis was a common occurring infection of the breast tissue in breastfeeding mothers, so he wasn’t sure how they could possibly…

It registered then. Ah… Mitosis.

“By the way, I bought us dinner! In case we get hungry.” At the sound of rustling, August briefly stopped and turned to see Peyton holding up a brown paper bag, and an amused grin started to slowly edge its way across his lips.

He covered his lower face with a hand. “Mate, don’t trip goin’ up, yeh?” With a beckoning nod—“C’mon.”—he carried on to his bedroom.

Upon entering, he twirled slowly with his arms wide—twirled himself toward the middle of the room with careful footing—and said in a drab voice, “...Welcome.”

The room was a massive space, geometrically varied in shape compared to the typical rectangular design. Straight in and to the left was the bathroom. Beside that was the walk-in closet. If not for the defining characteristics of a bedroom, such as the bed, it might have resembled a small library by the many towering bookshelves lined with figurines and comics organized by genre, author, and title.

A television mounted the wall between two of the bookshelves, across from the bed so that August could play games or watch from the comfort of conforming memory foam and satin sheets.

“‘S a big house an’ all, but this… is where ah really live.” He pointed to one of the shelves, “See those three suitcases theh?” Just as he said, three suitcases of shiny, metallic silver took up an entire shelf of their own, placed neatly in a row.

“Wu-Gi-Oh, if ya know it... Been collectin’ ‘em since mah baby teeth stah’ted fallin’ out… With mah dad’s help, of course.”

August stepped closer to Peyton, bending to his level. “Each of ‘em’s ‘bout as rare as the number of Pengfei’s ah’ve met in my life.” He booped him on the nose with a gentle finger and made a clicking noise with his mouth.

Straightening up, he put his hands in his pockets and sighed satisfactorily. “So, dinna’?” Teal eyes found and settled on the brown bag in Peyton’s hands.
AUGUST NOTES​
— —POST RECAP: August gives Peyton a non-descript tour of his house. The tour ends in August's room, where August shows Peyton his Wu-Gi-Oh collection without actually showing him his Wu-Gi-Oh collection.

— —WEARING: (CLICK HERE) (Socks instead of shoes)

— —August is 15 years old and recovering from a gunshot wound to his right bicep, which is bandaged beneath his clothes.

(Interacting w/ Peyton)
(Mentioned no one)
Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 

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