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

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MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
The Guy Who Wrote “Art Is In The Eye Of The Beholder” Probably Did It On The Toilet
TIME:
May 3rd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Milo
THE GUY WHO WROTE “ART IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER” PROBABLY DID IT ON THE TOILET
Milo awoke early that morning, the sun barely cresting the horizon, casting the first golden rays through the sheer curtains of his old bedroom as the soft rustling of leaves outside his window mixed with the distant chirping of birds. He sat up, fishing his phone out from underneath his pillow. He flicked up the lock screen that displayed an image of "The Whispering Storm," one of Barker's most prolific pieces, and stared at the time.

The clock read 6:05 am.

Milo sighed. He threw off the cover and stretched both arms overhead, then stifled a yawn with his palm. Today was the day he'd been preparing for. The familiar sounds of the city below trickled in: the distant hum of traffic and the faint, intermittent cries of seagulls from the nearby marina. He eased himself out of bed, his body still heavy with sleep, and padded barefoot across the cool, polished floor. The house was already empty—his parents gone, off to parts unknown before he'd risen. No surprises so far.

He began his morning routine, savoring the small, familiar rituals.

He retrieved a bag of Javamistica coffee beans from the pantry before carefully measuring them out using a digital scale on the counter. Once he was satisfied, he poured the beans into the burr grinder, adjusting the settings to his liking.

As the machine whirred to life, Milo filled the reservoir with fresh water and lined the brew basket with a clean paper filter. The aroma of ground coffee filled the kitchen, a heady, earthy scent. Gently, he poured the grounds into the filter, closed the basket, and switched on the coffee maker before stepping away. He'd return before long.

In the bathroom, Milo stared at his reflection in the mirror, his mind turning over as he considered the day ahead of him. As the razor glided smoothly over his skin, he went through the plan in his head, reviewing the techniques he was privy to, and anticipating the challenges he would face. He tried to imagine the other artists who had been selected, wondering what talents and ideas they would bring to the day... And if they would block his path.

Milo continued this silent contemplation as he stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the cityscape below as he took the first sip of his steaming morning coffee. He didn't remember when the first seedling of doubt had taken root inside of his mind. Perhaps it was when he had gone to see Barker's "The Unraveling," at Luminary Gallery last year. In it, Barker had woven together intricate patterns of color and line, a dizzying visual tapestry that had dragged him into its tangled embrace. It was—Milo remembered thinking at the time—in many ways, a reflection of Barker's own journey as an artist – a constant struggle to push the boundaries of expression and challenge the status quo. And yet...

Milo stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over him, washing away the last vestiges of sleep. He inhaled deeply, letting the steam fill his lungs and clear his turbulent thoughts. As the water flowed over his body, he allowed himself a moment of serenity, a brief respite from the anticipation that had been building within him for weeks.

Once dressed in a carefully chosen outfit, Milo wolfed down a protein bar for breakfast and headed out the door, his satchel slung haphazardly over his shoulder.


The gentle whir of the bike chain accompanied Milo's even breaths as he pedaled, feeling the steady rhythm of his bike beneath him, the slight vibrations from the uneven path resonating through the handlebars and into his palms. The warmth of the sun kissed his skin as a gentle breeze tousled his hair.

The only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath his tires mixed with the occasional birdsong; this part of the District was quieter than perhaps any other. He slowly pedaled to a halt as his eyes took in the imposing gate, adorned with intricate carvings and weathered by time. His breath huffed lightly in his chest as he dismounted his bike, adjusting the strap of his satchel to keep it from sliding down his arm.

"Woah," He breathed, an air of reverence about him. Though, try as he might, he could not shake the feeling of wrongness, that something was amiss. He was here to put those feelings firmly, finally, to rest. At long last, his eyes found the other two individuals standing outside the imposing gateway.

"Hey," he offered, waving a little awkwardly as his strap fell down his arm. He pulled it back up. "Are both of you here for the lesson? Have you been waiting long?"



 
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Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Drunk Walk Home
LOCATION:
Central, Alleyway
DATE:
Post Arc 3 | 1:12 AM
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Teddie
DRUNK WALK HOME
Their lunge at her struck a disruption in her heart like a bolt of lightning. Her veins pounded with a will to live, but her brain was racing with weary thoughts that just wanted the moment to end. She wanted to rest. It was all so much. They scolded her for flinching like her mom used to scold her for climbing on their furniture. So disappointed, Hiachi.

So there. They had their gloves back. As a consequence of her compliance, he reached in his jacket and aimed the pistol at her head again.

And then there was the game.

Hangman was an elementary game. Letter by letter you find the answer to a fairly obvious phrase or word given the context of the moment, because the little kids who played were seized by the excitement of the moment and the teachers who offered it to their rowdy classes were often unoriginal.

Hiachi hated hangman. Why was it called hangman, anyway? Did people used to hang men who couldn’t spell? Hiachi would have been the hanged man—she was really bad at spelling when she was younger.

But right now, Hiachi had been put on a pier, jeered on the platform of her final moments by a single entity, a malevolent force that enjoyed her struggle under the rope.

Fuck.

Hiachi was chilled to the bone, yet her arms were still burning. In a dark alleyway in central, with no one around to help. In these conditions, Hiachi could barely speak—how was she supposed to spell? Guess his name? It could have been anything. What if he didn’t have a name? How would she spell a word that didn’t exist?

Back in third grade, Hiachi had been in a spelling bee. Her worst juvenile nightmare—she hated the stage lights in her face, she hated having to think about the math of the letters, she hated thinking about words that didn’t exist, she hated the smug look of her opponents, she hated the silent drive home. Fourth place.

Hiachi cursed her own reminiscence. Thinking about so much of her past like she was about to die. She couldn’t die—it couldn’t end here. It was a pathetic death at the hands of a sadist. How many people died like she had?

No; Hiachi was still alive.

It was all up to this moment. Hiachi could do it. She would fight for her life up till the end—she wouldn’t fall into death’s hands, they would have to take her.

Rules of hangman; start with vowels. “...A?”


 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Rain on the Mountaintop
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 28th
LOCATION:
Borgo Orecchiette, Fusilli
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jackson, Jesper, Pascal, Milo, Gav
Rain on the Mountaintop
While Passeri's guests stacked their plates high with fussy, foreign delicacies, she allowed tranquillity to take her as she relaxed into her seat. There were a few mutterings amongst the crowd that caused her ears to twitch, but nothing of concern. They were doing as they were supposed to; Chattering, smiling, eating, relaxing.

Her conscience strained against her resolve. Part of her just wanted to leave things like this. To let all of this just crystalize into a fond memory of escape from that wonderful, terrible city that they all called home.

But the firmament held strong. This wasn't a chance she was likely to have again.

"Hmm?" Passeri trilled, lazily inspecting the blonde that had called after her. Jackson. That was his name. Memories of his performance throughout the gameshow came to her, nudging him into the forefront of her focus. He'd done well. Not the best, but well enough. There were things that she could have said about him, but none of them worth giving voice to. He was raw and unpolished, just like anybody from their home. Whether he was a diamond in the rough or just a cheap, common crystal was what remained to be seen.

"Is he now?" She smiled first at Jackson, and then at the diminutive, white-haired boy. This one she knew little about, but not nothing at all. A name-shaped bell had jingled when his thuggish chauffeur had requested to bring him along.

Albrecht.

"Your name was Jesper, right? I'd love to share! Talking about my work is one of my favourite things. What do you wanna chat about? Lyrics? Meaning? The instrumentals? If it's the last one, then I'll have to disappoint. That part was never my forte." She had considered inviting some of her crew along on this trip at one point, but had thought better of it. She doubted that they'd appreciate being caught up in a meeting of villains like this. "But for anything else? I'm your girl!"


 
Callista Reinhart
Scene:
Bitter Aftertaste
Time:
Pre Arc 1 - June 7, 2022
Location:
The Cerulean Orchid
Participants:
Callista, Eric
Bitter Aftertaste
Why were matters of the heart so complicated? That was the question that plagued the damsel's mind as she stood like a mannequin on the dance floor, a glass of cocktail in her hand. A scowl was plastered on her face, and it only deepened further when a man whispered into her ear, "Let's get out of here."

Callista shuddered in disgust. His face was handsome enough in a way that wasn't striking, but recently, her mind had been too preoccupied with a certain red-streaked, raven-haired boy. Ever since that day she'd foolishly professed her feelings thinking they wouldn't make it out alive, she'd found it nearly impossible to think of anything else. A groan rose to her throat.

"I'd rather stay for more drinks, John."

"My name is Daniel."

"Of course, that's what I meant."
She forced a smile, raising her glass to her lips. Over the man's shoulder, she could make out the familiar face of a man seated alone by the bar. Where had she met him before? She searched her memories for answers, but she drew a blank. Had he been one of her drunken escapades in the past?

Suddenly, bright flashes of memory sparked through her mind. Callista coughed, spitting her drink all over John's shirt. "Gre... Gregory?"

"No… My name is Daniel."
He corrected her once again as he wiped his damp shirt with a handkerchief he'd fished out of his pocket. Men were surprisingly patient when they wanted to get into your pants.

"Hush. I'm not talking to — Ah." Callista cleared her throat and flashed him an apologetic smile. Her mask had almost cracked. "Sorry, but the friend I've been waiting for is here... I must excuse myself." Without awaiting his reply, she shoved past him and wove her way through the crowd—toward Gregory Gallons. What better way to cure her boredom and take her mind off of her humiliating confession?

When she made it to the bar, she slid into the stool next to Gregory. Callista gave him a sidelong glance and smiled, before regarding the bartender with a nod and placing her empty glass down. But before she could give out her order, a figure loomed behind them, placing a firm grip on Gregory Gallon's shoulder. She whirled around to see John—no, Daniel, his voice brimming with suppressed anger as he asked, "So you're the boyfriend?"

 
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Callista Reinhart
Scene:
Bleeding Hart
Time:
Pre Arc 1 - March 2020
Location:
Reinhart Home
Participants:
Callista, Ashley
Bleeding Hart
As his hand closed around her wrist, Callista froze. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she scarcely dared to breathe as her eyes met the intensity of his gaze. The sudden contact triggered a flood of memories and sensations she thought she'd left behind long ago.

Her father's angry face loomed in her mind's eye, his heavy hand raining down blows on her small body. She could feel the weight of his rage crushing her, leaving her helpless and alone. In spite of her screams, his grip tightened around her wrist until something snapped.

"You're...Mary Posies?" A voice jolted her out of the painful recollections, a startled gasp escaping her cherry-tainted lips. The man hadn't noticed her waver, distracted by the strange place he'd found himself in. He was on guard, uneasy. What sort of nightmares had tormented him in his sleep?

When he finally let go of her, she quickly recovered and came back to her senses. Callista huffed a short, shaky breath. "You dare mistake me for another woman? I hope she’s at least half as beautiful as me,” she replied with an arched brow, massaging her wrist. With a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her golden hair, trying to pacify the unease that had settled in her stomach.

"Don't thank me yet… And my name is Callista." She grabbed another pillow and placed it behind his back. One hand propped up behind his neck, while another grasped his arm, supporting his weight so he could lean back against it without hurting himself. “Better?” she asked, ignoring his myriad questions. The doctor had cautioned her against discussing the hurricane’s aftermath. What good would it bring to tell him the place they called home was now a picture of death and ruins?

At the break of dawn, Callista had requested her servants to bring fresh flowers to brighten the room. The dark, velvet curtains had been thrown out, replaced by airy ones that allowed sunlight to filter through. In that white and pristine paradise, all was untouched by darkness and destruction, including the blonde maiden, who donned a white silk nightgown and a white cotton shawl. In his current state, that was all she needed him to see. A beautifully painted picture — a far cry from the harsh realities of the world outside of the mansion's walls. A safe haven, even if it was only temporary.

A strange epiphany struck her at that moment, about how she hid her wounds similarly, by lavishly dressing herself in expensive clothing and jewelry. Looking around the beautifully furnished room, it was almost impossible to fathom the devastation that had befallen the South. Likewise, one glance at her would reveal none of her inner turmoil. Wasn't it laughable how easy it was to trick the mind just by beautifying what the eyes could see?

“Hm, don’t fret.” Callista gave him a dismissive wave and sat beside him at the edge of the bed. “I may look like an angel, but I can assure you this isn’t the afterlife.” With a coy smile playing on her lips, she patted his hand reassuringly. "But you must eat.” She straightened up and peeled away the blanket, picked up the tray from the nightstand, and set it down carefully on his lap. Steam rose from the bowl of hot soup, filling the air with the aroma of rich, savory broth.

She reached out to pick up the spoon, but her attention was drawn to the childish pajamas they'd changed him into the night prior. Callista broke into a half-suppressed laugh. It was flamingo pink with strawberry prints, and it fell short down his calf. “—Hahh. Sorry, sorry." She sighed, placing a hand over her lips to conceal the remnants of an amused grin. She felt her tensions melt away. "I’m just glad my old pajamas fit you… What’s your name? I don't believe we've officially met."

 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
North Says No!
TIME:
February 5th, 2022
LOCATION:
Redwater High, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park, Eric Evensen
North Says No!
Passeri flinched as the gentle cotton of the detective's handkerchief brushed against her skin. Bright, fresh red flushed through the white material, and her eyes briefly locked with his. She bored deep, drilling through the layers of glassy apathy in pursuit of one simple truth. How much of this could she trust?

"You know, I'm pretty sure that a snap of a secret rendezvous like this would be a lot worse, actually." She offered the officer a small, wry smile as he fell in beside her." The thought is sweet, though. We're just lucky my manager isn't here! I think he would've blown a gasket if he ever found out that I let the merchandise get scuffed up like this."

During Eric's words of encouragement, Passeri's expression was unwavering. They were sweet, sugary words that the detective spoke, ill-suited for his usual glassy demeanour. Maybe it had to do with the company that she kept, but they were as rare as they were saccharine. If she were a more emotional woman, or if she had only been a few years younger, she might have teared up on the spot. Even as the person she was now, though, she felt a small shoot of appreciation bud within her.

She wished that more of the people in her life would make things this easy.

"Well, it's nice to know that somebody was affected by all of this, at least." That had been the point of all of this in the first place, hadn't it? She'd cared for the results of their outing today, yes, but they'd never been the point with a capital P. She'd let it all get away from herself. A moment of weakness. That's what everything since that haggard drunk had appeared had been.

"But you don't need to worry. I know better than anybody just how badly this city doesn't want to change. Take one step forward and it throws a tantrum like a child that's had their favourite toy taken away. But that still means that we're moving forward, right?" She wasn't sure many of her words were genuine, and how much of it was just flowery platitudes. Or even which of them she wanted them to be. "If even one of these kids walks home today with a new perspective on things, then that's enough for me." For now, at least. "You know how in cartoons they'll roll a snowball down a hill? And by the time it gets to the bottom it's like a boulder? That's how I think of events like these. Like we're starting a dozen little snowballs on their way."

She extracted herself from the wall, and met Eric's smile with an inextricable one of her own.

"And I hope you're one of those, Eric. Really." While foreign to her lips, the detective's name split forth cleanly. "I've got high hopes for this partnership of ours. Let's both cross our fingers that I don't disappoint!"

 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Return To Sender
TIME:
Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Hotel Gaul, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park
Return To Sender
The hotel room quickly peeled away from the hotel room, and the two women were lifted towards the sky. The night of New Oasis was rich, and filled with life. Cars honked beneath their feet, and the wind buffeted into them, as if it too were hurrying to one of the city's endless parties.

But, that wasn't the kind if nightlife that awaited Passeri and Hiachi. Their masks were of thick, black cotton, not delicately applied makeup, made to hide their identities, not flaunt them.

"And here we are." Passeri chimed as the platform stopped, flush with the hotel's uppermost balcony. A long, shimmering pool was carved into it, surrounded by sunchairs, and tiny, personal tables. Hiachi stumbled off the platform ahead of her, grasping at a spoke of railing in a desperate attempt to retain her sense of balance. The construct blinked out of existence as Passeri stepped after the younger woman, and rested a hand of reassurance on her shoulder.

"Sorry about that. I forget that people can have some trouble getting used to that little trick. It's kind of like a roller coaster, right?" Or one of those machines that lifted you up and then plunged you down, she wasn't sure. Her memories of amusement parks were awfully foggy. "Afraid I'll have to ask you to chin up, though. Peel your eyes. We're on the clock now."

Passeri padded lightly towards the dim penthouse, navigating around haphazardly strewn pieces of trash and toppled furniture. Thoroughly emptied bottles of booze decorated the living room, as well as tiny baggies that she assumed had previously been packed to bursting with fine, white powder. If you ignored the lavish furnishings, the thoroughly trashed suite painted a picture that she found familiar. Or familial. The muddled scents of dried booze and vomit offended her nose, but even worse, they reminded her of home.

It was a good thing that her protege wouldn't be able to see the scowl behind her mask.

"Well, this is going to take longer than I thought." She called back to Hiachi, kicking aside one of the random piece of trash that littered the penthouse. She eyed the adjacent dining room, as well as the stairs which led to an upper level. They didn't look much better. The entire penthouse was littered with the aftermath of a raging party, and thoroughly cluttered with trash and broken pieces of the decor.

"Anything catch your eye? This kind of thing isn't actually my speciality, believe it or not. If you were a drunken blackmailer, where do you think you'd keep your dirt?" She'd posed the same question to herself, but she doubted that a hotel room was going to have a secret room like she would've hoped for. "You know, you would've thought that he'd have kept the partying until after he'd made his money. Isn't this, like, counting your eggs before they hatch?"

She wandered around the living room a bit more, upturning pillows and checking under discarded pieces of clothing and, eventually, almost tripping over a mop decorated with googly eyes and a pair of bright red, plastic lips. The dead-eyed piece of cleaning equipment stared at her with a look of pure, sanitary audacity, and a shiver ran up her spine when she imagined just what had led to the creation of such a prop. She recalled the preparation she'd put into making sure this all went smoothly. Maybe she'd been giving her blackmailer too much credit.

 
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𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
As: Elizabeth Norden
Scene: St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
Time: July 1st, 2022 | Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1

I am here: Port, North District
With:


"Make you betray your eyes, when I hide in plain sight"

The woman took Naomi's bag after a moment without a word, an air of indifference about her. Naomi wasn't certain that it was true indifference--moreso, she thought it was that mask that people wore when dealing with annoying people that they didn't have the energy to fight with. Which was fair. Elizabeth was annoying, and if Naomi was getting under the skin of this worker, that meant that Elizabeth was working. Naomi eyed her carefully as she grabbed the bag, a hand shooting out as though she might drop it as she adjusted it for her height. A sour look crossed Elizabeth's features, although she didn't say anything, just eyed the bag suspiciously. The girl was undoubtedly smart enough to understand that it was a "don't you dare drop my bag," look.

But while Elizabeth was being prissy about the bag, Naomi was eyeing the lump in the back of the worker's shirt. That was a gun, wasn't it? Jackpot. Naomi thought. A regular worker wasn't going to be carrying a gun while on duty--however, an undercover Tiger member would. Target sighted. Naomi flipped her hair over her shoulder, glancing back at the crowd as they moved towards the boat. She sure was taking forever to answer what her name was. Naomi stared the girl in the eyes as she eventually answered with a name. Yui. If the hesitancy to answer was any indication, that was probably a fake name. But well, there wasn't anything Elizabeth Norden could do about it. Naomi could try and weasel the real name out of her later. "Thank you, Yui. This way," Naomi said, glancing at her phone for her room information. "The room is 725," she stated simply, expecting Yui to know how to get to said location. After all, she was the employee here while Naomi was the guest.

She walked in complete silence for a moment, before Naomi's own personal dislike of silence wormed its way in. But she had to think of something to say that Elizabeth would care about. "What programs are available and at what times? What would you recommend for someone to do?" Naomi asked. The second question was fishing for information about Yui--what did she think sounded interesting? What did she think Elizabeth would want to do? An actor had to know their character before they embodied them, after all.



((ooc: ))
((Outfit: Same as Picture))
((Catch Me If You Can))

QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel miki miki
 
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
Charlie continued to serve the rest of the customers in the restaurant, every single time, he welcomed every single new person with a radian, sincere smile, never faltering to take and deliver orders with contagious positivity, part of him wished that said enthusiasm wasn't fueled by monetary gain, but hey, rent was an everpresent looming threat on the boy's horizon, so there was no true shame on it at the end of the day.

What seemed to be just a regular albeit particularly active day at his job took a suddent, unexpected turn as a small group of unfriendly-looking individuals entered the establishment. Charlie got visibly worried as they argued with the receptionist, hopefull they would just up and leave once they had a word with his boss, perhaps a foolish hope, especially considering they were even armed, but he couldn't help it, really.

And foolish it really was, as the lady in black gave them a piece of her mind, and while he definitely understood where she was coming from, he also sighed as he understood the clear repercussions of her words, a result that was immediately clear as one of the intimidating men approached her. Naturally, even the non-conflictive blue-haired youth understood that staying idle at such a moment was unacceptable, he had a gift after all, and letting it go to waste would be the biggest of shames.

With hurried steps, he placed himself between the approaching man and the dining lady, extending his arms wide to the sides as the make his intention clearer. "Please, sir, we don't care about turfs here, you're scaring the customers so I will have to ask you to leave right now." He was undeniably scared, his heart beating at maximum speed. He had barely ever fought in the past, a trait of living most of his life under the protective veil of the wealthy life, both a curse and a blessing in a city such as New Oasis. But regardless, his resolve was made, not only did he want his workplace to not be in danger, but he legitimately worried about the people in danger.

The man, however, did not take Charlie's intervention kindly, a vein on his neck visibly popping out due to his now increased ire. "Fucking hell! Another bitch getting on my nerves, wanna die that badly?" Unwavering, Charlie simply stared back, only sparing a few more words at the delinquent. "Please, just leave." The man smirked, letting a short cackle as he stared at his weapon. "Well, I warned you okay? BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE NUISANCES"

He raised his sword high up in a diagonal motion, eventually coming back down into a violent cleave. Charlie was admitedly scared, but he had to trust his gift, he had tested it many times in the past, he should be able to take it. Instead of making any effort to clumsily avoid the attack, he raised his left forearm, the limb coming into contact with the sharp edge. However, no blood was drawn, the blade impacted against the arm as if it was a wall of stone, the clang being somewhat muted by the light padding that was his sleeve. Quickly taking advantage of the opportunity, Charlie reached for the man's wrist with his dominant hand, and proceeded to apply a good amount of force on the attacker. The pressure was strong enough that the pain caused the criminal to wince and grunt, as he felt his grip on the blade weakening, eventually letting go of it completely, the weapon loudly landing on the floor. Once the enemy was disarmed, Charlie raised the man's arm and used his now-free left hand to hit the Bull's chest with his palm, knocking the wind out of him and pushing him back a few feet, almost back to his allies. By now, some customers could be heard yelping by surprise and fear at the suddent turn of events, nobody ran out of the building yet, however, as that would imply having to get through the Raging Bulls first. Charlie stared intently at the trio, he didn't need to repeat himself again, his eyes communicating a new plea for retreat, but also a determination to not let these men cause any more trouble to the restaurant and the people within it.



Peckinou Peckinou
 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
LOCATION:
The Open Seas (Day 0)
PARTICIPANTS:
Naomi
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
Thankfully, the woman ceased her incessant commands when she walked up the ramp and onto the boat. A good thing for Hiachi (now Yui, apparently) who hated small talk more than anything. At least the woman had the decency to not question the gun on her back, even if she had seen it. Hiachi was glad that rich people didn’t question things.

Hiachi hated the way this woman carried herself, though. She was high and mighty, with no awareness about the ways she could possibly make others uncomfortable. She twirled her blonde hair around, not a care in the world. She eyed Hiachi like her hands were covered in dirt, or blood, or both. God, she couldn’t wait to finish helping her. Hopefully she won't encounter other people like her.

Hiachi stopped by the front desk before grabbing a few things from the front desk agent. A keycard for room 725 and a brochure.

Hiachi was supposed to be taking her to her room now. She recalled the room numbering scheme that Elias had told her—They boarded on Deck 5, so the woman’s room would be two floors up. Easy to figure out, but it would take a while for her to get there. Hiachi was careful to not walk too fast, nor too slow, because she would probably find a way to complain about both.

But then she asked about available programs. What times they’d be happening, and what kinds of things she would suggest for her. It could have been a genuine question, and it could have been a way to fill the silence. That was the trouble—now Hiachi had to actually think about her answer regardless, because any tips she could get were based on her hospitality.

Damn, what was going on again? The St. Steinburg was huge, and there were a lot of activities that Elias listed that Hiachi had half-forgotten already.

“—!” Hiachi breathed in, halting the noise of confusion she was about to make. All she had to do was list some activities that a high-class person like her would enjoy. And perhaps something else that would bring Hiachi a bit more fortune. “The pool and bars are always open, so you don’t need to worry about that. If you want to relax, you can go to one of the spas. If you’re looking for something more exciting, you could always go to the movie theater or a nightclub later at night… Or you could try out one of the casinos.”

Hiachi was uncomfortable forcing that corporate tone through her tongue, but it was worth it. If she could con this woman in a game of poker, it was worth it. She wasn’t allowed to gamble on tiger turf. They were on the lawless ocean, and unless Elias struck her down himself, Hiachi was free to flex her gambling skills. And siphoning some cash out of this prideful woman would be the only thing to make her feel better that wouldn’t violate her employee code of conduct.

As they approached the room, Hiachi handed the woman her keycard and brochure. “If there’s anything else you want to know about, you can look through the brochure—or, you can ask me or another employee.”


 
Peyton Xiong
SCENE:
This is an Investigation
LOCATION:
Sang-Cheol's Car North District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 || 1 Month Later
PARTICIPANTS:
Peyton, Sang-Cheol
This is an Investigation
"Oh, okay sunbae!" Peyton replied to the man's threats. Honestly, Peyton had been tempted to call him hyung again just to see what he would do to try to kill Peyton. Don't threaten me with a good time and all. The angry noise that emanated from the man was a promise to Peyton that this would be a very eventful car ride.

It also seemed that Peyton's reputation preceded him-- this sunbae knew of Peyton's past actions. The way that the man gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles indicated to Peyton that perhaps his claim about not caring about Peyton's actions... weren't true. Unfortunately for Peyton, he didn't realize it was his current infuriating behavior that caused the sunbae to say such a thing.

"Oh, the raid! Caio told us about a blacksite that he thought had Raph in it, and I snuck along!" Peyton said cheerfully, "I had a lot of fun! There were a lot of weird uniformed people and some HPs! I really liked killing them! But then the big sword guy took Caio away!"

Peyton's description of the raid was sufficiently bland and lacked any details. The truth was, Peyton had blanked out for much of it, the joy and exhilaration of his bloodlust drowning out specific memories. But there was one particular moment that Peyton remembered...

"When we rescued Raph, he only paid attention to that one guy! August!" Peyton fumed, "It's no fair! He didn't even seem that angry at me! All he had was eyes for August! It was also really easy to leave for some reason."

Peyton's anger was only ephemeral though. In the next moment, he was leaning across the driver's dashboard to get a better look at his captor. The man seemed normal enough except for the very obvious rage that he radiated. And Peyton liked that expression.

"Hey, sunbae, let's make a deal! How about when I answer one of your questions you answer one of mine!" Peyton asked, "So! What's your name, and where are we going?"

Misuteeku Misuteeku
 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Hide & Seek
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Daytime, June 30th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Keith
Hide & Seek
Keith could feel it in her gaze, fear, doubt and confusion were all clearly portrayed in her expression. The dragon felt relieved, for this was most certainly going to be an easy job. He didn't even need to begin fighting her to understand their current dynamic, he was the hunter, and she was the pray. She was even standing there, stuck in place as the fear overcame her, she probably couldn't move a single finger in her body, Keith gave a single step forward triumphantly, he just needed to capture her and take her back to ADHQ.

...Except she was now running?

"...O-OI! GET BACK HERE!"

Keith broke into a sprint, giving chase the mysterious intruder. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he was sure that she was going to just freeze in fear! He clicked his tongue as he rushed forward, having a surprisingly difficult time staying close to the girl, she certainly was quick despite her looks. Once they were both running down the stairs, Keith decided that it was a good time to use the elevation advantage to catch her. He hastily took off his gloves, revealing the scarlet hue that pigmented his arms.

Should Hiachi turn around, she would be met with large, deformed red hands adorned with menacing metal claws, bending and stretching unnaturally, rapidly shortening the distance with her.


miki miki
 
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JOZEF DAALMAN
SCENE:
Spotting The Wingless
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Celeste, Jozef, [NPCs: Flea, Tick] | Keith, Nona-Me [NPCs: Dragons x2]
SPOTTING THE WINGLESS

“Do you have it all with you?”

Flea had been staring down the two bodyguards for what felt like forever, the tension in the air leaving her on edge. She looked down at the source of the voice, at the lady, Cynthia, hunched over between them. She had been assured the client was trustworthy, not the first deal she had done with the Serpents, and not the last either.

“Yes.”

Flea nodded, nudging the man beside her, who flinched and nodded too, gesturing toward the van — belonging to ‘Ennis And Son’s Window Cleaning’ — parked beside them.

“Do you have all our money? You know how this works.”

The lady inched forward, hands shaking around an ornate cane. Pale eyes looked up and down the Veteran with little expression at first, narrowing in suspicion as she turned her attention to Tick, Flea’s Rookie companion.

“Of course I have the money, dear.”

At the click of a perfectly manicured finger, one guard stepped forward, holding a briefcase in his arms. It cracked open, revealing their reward — lots and lots of money.

“Good. Tick!”

The van door creaked open, revealing several nondescript boxes. Flea took the briefcase, and the boxes began to be unloaded.

“Look, I ain’t making a habit of sneaking around East. Next time we’re back on our turf.”

Everyone stopped in their tracks, all eyes on Cynthia, who inched ever forward to Flea. “Look at me, Serpent. You’re going to make an eighty-year-old woman go all the way to that slum of a district. The disrespect from you lot. For shame. No, I stay here with my boys. You do what you’re told, I know your boss.”

“At least give us a little something extra then, make this worth our time.”

“Ha.” Cynthia turned around slowly, shuffling towards one guard. “That mouth of yours will get you killed someday, dear. Talk like that when you have something worthwhile to do with yourself.”

“Tch.” Flea stood there while the guard bent down to Cynthia, letting her whisper instructions in his ear. He turned around, heading through to the restaurant they had gathered behind. Cynthia shuffled back up to Flea.

“He’s sorting it out.”

Both women watched as the goods were unloaded. Flea had no idea what use a little old lady had for the Serpent’s products, but it wasn’t part of her job to know. She just wanted to get paid and get some sleep. She felt a little more relaxed now, but couldn’t shake off the feeling that danger lurked around the corner. If there was anything she didn’t trust, it was the eyes watching the scene from above.



“-And I told him I had the right to use all the coupons with my shop! And he said no, something about store policy.” Jozef paused to take a sip from his iced coffee, stretching his legs across the cold metal floor. “I ended up redeeming them all, but I paid more for his tip anyway cause the guy looked kinda down. We both won in the end, except for me, and he still had to type in all those coupons. Hm.” He looked up at Celeste, grinning. “Oh well- Oh hey!”

Thunk

Jozef flopped onto his side, rolling into a kneeling position as he peered through the metal fence. They were suspended several floors up, on the escape route of a nearby building. He squinted as he looked at the scene ahead. “Can you see them? Is it all okay?”



“Think the others have seen them yet?”

“I told them to holler for us if they do.”

“Well, haven’t heard anything.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

Two men paced the dimly lit streets, to no avail. They weren’t expecting to find anything out in the open, rather they were there to be prepared when the other scouts did. From the swords at their sides and the way they carried themselves in a dignified manner, it would be easy for onlookers to guess their affiliation.

“In any case, they made a mistake crossing over. I wonder what’s made them so bold, thought they'd be scared after we destroyed their lab.”

“Desperation.”

They continued to walk. Nearer to their targets, two more Dragons lurked, about to uncover the Serpent deal.

 
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Nona-me Gregor
SCENE:
Spotting The Wingless
LOCATION:
East District
TIME:
Night
PARTICIPANTS:
Jozef, Celestine, Keith, Nona-me, Serp + Dragon NPCs
Spotting the Wingless
Flats dangled in the air above the streets. The bristles of the broom flowed along with the wind, the axe cutting through the sky as it circled the area. Her silhouette crossed the moon.

Supposedly, Serpents were here, unpermitted. Not the decision Nona-me would’ve made, but surely they had their reasons.

Whatever their reasons were didn’t matter, though. Unfortunately, these people weren’t wanted here, and they were to be made to leave in a timely manner.

Shouldn’t be much harder than wrangling an adult swan! She smiled to herself.

An alleyway went under her with almost no mind paid to it, but she quickly backtracked and hovered over the street. She hummed with a thoughtful feel to it, her eyes trailing between the suspicious figures in the dark.

Her feet lowered until they gently hit the roof of a nearby building, her arms taking the broom from under her and hugging it closely. She kneeled to get a better view.

From what she could tell, there were four figures, and an open van that was being unloaded.

She looked around the area, bringing up a walkie-talkie to her face.

“Suspicious figures out in the alleyway between…” She whispered the names of the buildings. “...Stay vigilant, there might be more.”

She mounted the broomaxe again, going back over the alley. She hovered in wait for a response.




WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten angel doe angel doe Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Reminiscence Dedai
SCENE:
Peter Picked a Party for a Pointless Pizza Picnic
LOCATION:
Ruined Playground, North District
TIME:
Afternoon, Summer 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Kaiga, Naomi, Sill, Julian, Kisara, Taka, Haley, Raph
Peter Picked a Party for a Pointless Pizza Picnic
It was almost in slow-motion.

The basket cracked against the ground, landing on its side. Sludge splattered everywhere, coating the opened food that had fallen out. Rem’s mouth was agape, her hands up beside her head in shock. They moved to cover her mouth.

Suddenly, the world didn’t seem to be in slow-motion anymore, and Rem had to stare at the consequences of her own clumsiness.

Her expression went neutral as her arms went slack at her sides. “Whoops.”

Turning around to face the randomly selected people she was walking with, she shrugged. “Who wants pizza?”


After taking a tally of orders of everyone there whilst on a phone call to the nearest pizza place, she finally put her phone away.

The group had made it to the picnic spot. Old, rundown tables sat under a broken pavilion with a missing leg. If they were lucky enough, it wouldn’t crush them while they sat. They were visibly clean, at least— for whatever reason.

To the left of the pavilion was a children’s playground. Equally as clean, but equally as rundown, with one of the slides broken and any metal having rusted. All but one swing had been swung over the pole they hung from until they weren’t swing-able. It wasn’t at its prime in the slightest.

Rem crossed her arms, tilting her head at the sight. With a joyful tone that didn’t match her expression, she informed them, “The pizza’ll be here in 20 minutes! If we’re lucky. Sorry about dropping the food! I didn’t mean to.” She turned around to face everyone else. “Don’t starve while we wait!”

She promptly returned her attention to the pavilion, making her way to sit at the nearest table and covering her eyes. Her head was killing her.



The Crimson King The Crimson King tityanya tityanya Peckinou Peckinou Sei Shonagon Sei Shonagon simj26 simj26 AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa kase9187 kase9187 Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Back in the Game
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 5 2022
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hitoshi, Milo
Back in the Game
Charlie listened to the girl, Elizabeth, and Hitoshi talking about private military, and how they were often employed by their current client. Charlie wasn't exactly sure what that really entailed, but he supposed that it meant serious business, he very much doubted that "cheap" and "military" were terms that held any sort of compatibility. He was then admitedly a bit caught off guard by Elizabeth's harsh words about the zoo, but he didn't let that get him down, instead, he raised his right hand up to his forehead at an angle, saluting the girl. "Ma'am, not at all, Ma'am!". He was also able to appreciate Milo's words backing him up.

The Phoenix himself relaxed for a short while on the back seat, simply enjoying the view of the fascinatingly alien city. That is, until Milo started to speak, a question that was undeniably also gone through Charlie's mind, how could he not wonder about something like that as well? When she explained herself, Charlie's eye's lit up, a smile forming on his face.

"Oh, I get that completely!" He said as he pulled out his phone from his pocket, his finger sliding through the touchscreen as he slid through the hundreds of photos he had taken that month alone (No stray shall ever stay un-photographed and un-pet on his watch). When he found the picture he was looking for, he leaned the device in front of Elizabeth.


OIP_19.jpg

"This is Sprint! I've had him since I was a child, can't really say I take him with me everywhere, but I always like to resort to him when things get stressful or sad for me, I think we can all do with the emotional support that these little guys give us" Obviously that's what she must've meant by helping her. Admitedly, that last part she mentioned about not relying on people worried the rookie a little bit...But in the end, he was in no position to say anything to her about that, neither from a professional or moral standpoint.



joshuadim joshuadim Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Zachariah C. Locke
SCENE:
Fell and Cruel Hounds
LOCATION:
Actaeon's Rest, Central District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger, Corvo, Lily, Musai, Zach, Yushui
Fell and Cruel Hounds

Zach chuckled as the girl shrieked her introduction, gun melting to its base form in her hand. Having finished loading his chosen gun(s) and equipping them on his person, the currently black haired man held out his hands in a defensive, pacifying manner. “Whoa, whoa, we’re all allies here, right Lil’ Missy?”

It was hard to say whether she was scared or indignantly angry; Probably a combination of both. Then again, people were complicated things, despite all just being sacks of meat in the end, and he didn’t doubt that she was as complicated as her potential seemed to be. White flames. Black flames. While his God’s Eye(s) could ‘read’ the aura of her potential, seeing them in action gave him a better sense of their capabilities.

His eyes, behind the shades, followed Carrion to the table.

“Seven years of being bullied by cute, yet scary Blondie~” Zach answered. He always assumed Merkola was a former military official of some sort, given her general attitude, vast knowledge of weaponry/assassination techniques, and combat experience, but he didn’t actually know; She wasn’t especially open about her past. What he did know was that the former Phoenix had given him his current shades and first gun(s). Naturally, he refined his knowledge/skills through experience and other sources in addition to the things Merkola taught. He had to. His potential wasn’t as combat-oriented as Vulken’s or Lyric’s. He couldn’t be a part of the Phoenixes–or do his jobs–without being able to hold his own in a fight. He couldn’t rely on flames that burned hotter than a sun or strength that pushed giants to survive.

Therefore, he chose to specialize in a different set of skills.

“Communication do be important,” Zach agreed. “I also love me some supr–,”

"Enough chatter. They're here. Kill every single person that comes through those door–”


Zach wanted to say he was surprised by the following explosion, but, given he’d had his God’s Eye active behind his shades the entire time, that would be a lie; He could see the apparitions that appeared on the roof and the subsequent punch from the Quiling girl. He’d been able to see approaching vans, the mob of black soldiers slinking into the building, shouting orders and evacuating civilians as well.

How nice of them.

Shrugging when the client gave her order, he glanced amusedly at his fellow Phoenix. “Guess we get the fun job~ Watch for the 10 o’clock sniper.”

He tossed a pair of burner phones–which came equipped with his number–at Lily and scared-faced Park before snatching an automatic assault rifle from the display and following the client up the stairs. While support and sniping were his specialties, Zach didn’t shy away from close quarter combat either. On the contrary, he found it thrilling and, like any other Phoenix—whether born or bred–didn’t tend to turn down brawls.

Mirroring the client, Zach aimed his gun at the smoking debris and waited for it to clear somewhat instead of immediately firing–even though he totally could’ve; He saw their figures clearly through all the dust, after all. The masked man entered the penthouse first, barely managing to get a few words in before the client open fired.

Elise Cutter.

Zach hadn’t known the client’s name.

He hadn’t expected her to ‘die’ so quickly either. Blinking as Elise’s body tumbled down the steps, Zach was silent for a moment before the absurdity of how quickly they failed caused him to burst into laughter despite the morbidity of the situation; A ghost wasn’t going to pay him to kill her enemies. The dead didn’t even have enemies and Zach hadn’t quite reached the level of insanity where he’d kill people for no reason. It was a job. He got paid for it. Drawing that line between the people he killed and people he didn’t helped him keep his humanity.

“Welp,” Zach managed when he finally calmed himself, assault rifle still trained at the bounty hunters though he had yet to fire. “There goes my reason for being here. Cutter must've done something big to have so many mercenaries sicced on her...some big named foreigners as well~ ”

Then again, since he knew her to be an HP, there was a chance she was still alive.

Actually, he got the feeling that there was more to the job than meets the eye, but whether his suspicions proved true or not didn’t actually matter in the long run.

“But ya know, I hate losing,” Pulling the trigger, Zach held it and let loose a continuous spray of bullets as he steadily backed towards the stairs, his other hand reaching into the pocket of his pants. Whether the bullets hit, or did any damage, didn’t actually matter; They were a distraction. Zach knew he was dealing with HPs like himself. Thick skinned. Thin skinned. They came in all kinds, but a degree of resistance to the pellets released by firearms wasn't uncommon. Pulling out a smoke grenade, he undid the pin and dropped it, black fog encasing him in darkness before starting to spread throughout the top floor of the penthouse. Hawk worked best in darkness. His eyes made sure of that.

Eyes that were focused on his adversaries as he attempted to read their potential even while gunfire sounded in the darkness to occupy them; With any luck he'd uncover a weakness of some sort, though figuring out what exactly downed Elise Cutter so quickly worked too.

“So, Carrion, shall we change up our plans a little? Contact Lily?”

Checking Cutter’s body was the priority in Zach's mind. If the client was still alive, Lily, with her white flames, could heal the injuries and they’d resume. However, if the client really was dead, the group’s priority ought to shift from killing all the assassins after Elise Cutter to getting out alive; Revenge-killing wasn’t Zach’s style–he barely knew Elise–and there was little point in continuing a bloody massacre if they already lost. It didn’t matter how many big name bounty-hunters he managed to kill. He wasn’t going to get paid for it if the client was dead.


simj26 simj26 The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit @Kameron Esters- Elenion Aura Elenion Aura AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa @ATurei @Seaquill (mentioned: Peckinou Peckinou )
 
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Kisara McDowell
SCENE:
A Pledge to Tender Moments
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Kisara
A Pledge To Tender Moments

“Badass?” Was she really that cool? Heh. Of course she was! She thumbed her nose at the compliment, looking as smug as can be. She skipped along, beside Jackie, ignoring the dull pain on her right calf. It wasn’t anything to worry about, probably, but he was right- she couldn’t be the strongest without rest. After all, an army marches on a full stomach, and a warrior fights at his best! That was when they were the strongest!

“Hm hm hm!” She nodded enthusiastically with Jackie’s suggestion, but what caught her ears was the mention of her being a villain.

“A villain?” She rubbed her chin in thought. She never really thought about it. What was her persona anyway? She definitely wasn’t a princess. That was too soft, too ‘pink’, too frilly. So, for real, a villain didn’t sound bad at all, really.

A villain was someone who united the good of the world against them, after all. If she could rise to that status, if she could truly become the strongest in the world, perhaps, then, everyone would band together as one- no hate between brothers and sisters, no enm- emmi- entim- anger between fellow human beings. ‘Villain’ sounded a little weak, though. “Nay! I am no simple ‘villain’! I am a supervillain! Wahahaha– oops, sorry!” She was only just about to strike an overt pose, before she noticed some quizzical eyes aimed her way.

But what was more important to a supervillain was not power, but their own band of supervillains to face against the heroes! She overtook Jackie, running in front of him, before whirling around to face him, stretching out a hand towards him. “Very well, Jackson Alessi! I accept your wishes! In return, you will serve as one of my greatest allies against the forces of all things good! Together, we will conquer New Oasis, and then the world!”



@BriiAngelic
 
Inigo Han
SCENE:
Cleaning Duty
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Eric, Inigo
CLEANING DUTY


“Die, it is.” Even with his soft voice, his words cut through the cacophony of voices and noise as the bat slammed into his crystal wall. Shards scattered across his unblinking face, unperturbed by the destruction of his defense. Without acknowledging Eric’s insistence that they handle this without brutality, he formed his crystals upon his arms. There was a slight pause, before both of his arms were encased in white crystals, both forming armored gauntlets.

“Remember, you chose this.” A death knell if there ever was one. One that tolled in their ears, promising them that their ends will not be soft, and that everything that came after was a result of their actions. They should have surrendered, they should have chosen the easy way out, but they chose this, instead. He drew his fist back and punched straight through his own wall, shattering it completely, showering the thug with the bat with a rain of white crystals. He stepped forwards, dipping low, and his second blow came from below, driving up straight towards his target’s chin.




Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
Kisara McDowell
SCENE:
Omnia et Vanitas
LOCATION:
???, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kisara, Raph
Omnia et Vanitas

“Hm?” She swung her hands by her side callously, and leapt up onto a line of handrails beside them, balancing precariously on them, before continuing to keep up with Raph. She wasn’t the best at reading expressions, she didn’t think, but at his own snide remark, Raph’s face scrunched up in an image of self-hatred. She, perhaps foolishly, perhaps wisely, chose not to pursue that line of conversation. That said, he was wrong. If she really wanted to take someone out on a date, it’d be to a nice view of the city, up above some Tiger’s building, on a cinematic helicopter pad, where they’d trade blows like their lives depended on it. She had been planning that for a while now. She just never saw the time or opportunity to invite that man out for such an occasion. Nor did she see any need to. He was busy, and she was sure she didn’t even register in his radar.

Instead, she chose to focus on his other comment.

“You mean fish?” She knew exactly what he meant, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She rubbed her chin, as if deep in thought, like she was actually considering the aquarium.. “Yeah, I thought not. Seems kinda boring. What kinda aquarium doesn’t let you fight the sharks, right?!” She gave a light chuckle, before springing off the handrails as they came to an end, landing neatly beside Raph, and continued skipping along.

“Well, first–” she turned her head, and her dark eyes sparkled. “First, let’s get something to eat!” She pointed at the rundown shophouses across the road. A dilapidated wooden sign that read “Mikado-ya” hung over its sliding doors. The inviting scent of salty broth wafted out of the doors, and she was beginning to get the rumblies. She took hold of Raph’s arm, and pulled him along. “Have you ever had Mikado’s ramen? It ain’t look like much, but you can choose how tough you want your noodles, and how salty you want the broth to be! Personally, I like ‘em as tough as possible, and as salty as it can get!”

The shop only had one or two customers inside, quietly parked at the corner seat. The lone chef looked up from his phone as Kisara entered, with Raph behind her. “McDowell,” he grunted as a greeting. “Today’s lobster,” he commented, before returning to his phone. The sounds of Wafuku voices and the telltale clashes of steel against steel indicated that he was watching one of his anime.

“Oh yeah! They also serve different kinds of specialties every week! Last week was cheese, and the week before was spicy!” She shook Raph’s arm excitedly. She pushed him down on a seat at the counter. “You already know what I want, boss! Everything on top, salty as heck, and tough as nails!”

“Uh huh,” the chef nodded.

Kisara pushed a piece of fading, laminated paper towards Raph. It was as much of a menu as it was just a series of basic words. “Look! You can pick what toppings you want too!” She pressed her finger on the excuse of a menu, indicating the selection of bamboo shoots, spring onions, meat, seaweed, and soy sauce marinated eggs.

Hopefully, the food was enough to keep his mind out of the rut for the time being. She had never met anyone who couldn’t be sated by Mikado’s ramen.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Haley "Rolos" Boyd
SCENE:
Peter Picked a Party for a Pointless Pizza Picnic[xxx]
LOCATION:
Ruined Playground, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kaiga, Naomi, Sill, Julian, Kisara, Taka, Reminiscence, Raph
Peter Picked a Party for a Pointless Pizza Picnic
Rolos could see the box fall, watching the contents mingle in a rather disgusting fashion. Reminiscence looked back on the party and asked a simple "Who wants Pizza?"
He'd respond with his own neutral comment of "Sure. Can we grab a four cheese at least? I have a hankering for cheese right now."

--------

He'd walk over to the pavilion, tapping the ground with his foot to cause a pole of concrete to extend upwards to help hold up the final corner of the pavilion. "Ah, it's alright. I only eat exposure anyways. People keep trying to pay me in it after all." He would chuckle tapping his foot and launching a small cube up onto the table. It was maybe six inches all around, and he'd tap it to slowly start carving away at it.

He could always just shave it down in seconds to whatever shape he wanted, but it wouldn't be a good shape. It would be like a perfectly carved sphere. He was working on something more detailed while he waited: A Lucky Cat statue. It would take a good minute before he was finished, though. And of course it was a solid grey color to match the concrete he'd taken the block from, the remains dropping onto the ground to refill the hole as best it could.]


The Crimson King The Crimson King Elenion Aura Elenion Aura tityanya tityanya Peckinou Peckinou AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa gxxberkit gxxberkit simj26 simj26 Sei Shonagon Sei Shonagon
 
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Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage
LOCATION:
St. Steinburg, Lower Deck ---> St. Steinburg ,Upper Deck
DATE:
July 1st, 2022 (DAY 0) || Post Arc 3, TimeSkip 1
TIME:
5:20 PM
INTERACTIONS:
Elias ---> Callista
St. Steinburg's Maiden Voyage

Tak was completely ready! He was about to run around the deck two times over! Shakedown suspicious people! Maybe patrol around some of the restaurants! And make sure to frisk some of the sexy ladies! All for the safety of the ship, of course!

Of course, despite his big talk and bold claims, defending the ship had quickly begun to drop down the list of importance, getting his worth out of this summer and the fleeting ten days were his top priority, and there was a lot for him to enjoy while he had the time.

He was feeling good, and the sly smirk on his face showed it. Well, at least it did until bushy black hair and widow’s peak forced themselves in front of his vision. He instinctively recoiled a slight bit, putting weight onto his back foot as this random guy got up in his face, trying to dick measure with him about their job of protecting the ship.

Just listening to him talk caused Tak to clench a fist, this guy was definitely punchable! And his hairline looked like a car window with windshield wipers! For some reason, that pissed him off too!

Before things could intensify any further, a robust clap from Elias broke the two away from concentrating on each other, Tak sharply glanced over toward the man ringleading this whole thing, exhaling out of his nose as he unclenched his fist. Looks like he'd let windshield wipers get it off easy, this time.

“Well, if that’s all then I’ll be goin’,” He turned away from the rest of the group, shoving his hands into his pockets as he strolled towards the stairs to the higher decks. “It’s about time I get acquainted with the layout of this damn thing.”

Of course, there was no getting acquainted with the layout for Tak, he probably couldn’t even read a map.

So as he mentally noted about the party happening in the evening in the ballroom, his head tilting to the side slightly. “Doesn’t really sound like my scene, but maybe I’ll check it out,” He openly pondered as his steps echoed through the empty staircase, the real question wasn’t if he would go, but if he could even find it.

The thought immediately vacated his mind as he felt the sun hit his face, briefly blinding him as he raised a hand to shade his from the glare, the faint sound of gulls in the distance as they flew above the ship, attracted to the food that was already beginning to spread around the ship from the numerous people on it.

“Alright, time to find a buffet,” Tak immediately decided, his gaze narrowing along with a pair of black bars that closed in around his eyes, showing a visual representation of his resolve and immediate choice, despite the large number of things he could do on this ship. He was pretty hungry, and he was gonna need some fuel to keep him running at full energy and enjoy the rest of the day.

Just as he prepared to wander around and let his nose lead him to some food like a starving rodent, he suddenly froze in place, mouth hanging open as his eyes widened, a stifled gasp coming out of his throat as his fingers splayed open, the slight twitch in his digits being the only movement coming from him as he was completely starstruck.

She was approaching his direction, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen! Just the way the sunlight glistened off her clear complexion and how her clothing accented her waist and bust, and how her long blonde hair bobbed along with her sashay, ignited something in Tak, he became insanely aware of his status as a man in an instant.

His mind was blank for a long moment before he remembered to breathe. His brows knitted together, a small sweat going down the side of his face. Was this the type of bombshells money attracted!? Damn, he hated being poor! How the hell was he supposed to stand a chance among such amazing ladies when there were no doubt hundreds of rich guys walking around with their pretty looks, like Elias? He didn’t stand a chance!

Such a sobering realization made him scowl as it seemed like the gap between him and this stunning woman was worlds apart despite their distance between each other quickly closing. He was duly reminded of how little his existence actually mattered in the face of excellence.

But, as he placed a hand in his pocket, prepared to drop his head and walk past with his eyes hidden behind his hair, the crinkle of expensive paper touched his fingertips, his eyes flickering to life as he remembered.

He pulled the platinum ticket out of his pocket, bringing it in front of him as it waved in the wind. This thing, just for these next couple of days, made him different. He wasn’t the normal “nothing worth talking about” Tak! He had a ticket that could buy him anything he wanted on this ship!

For once, just for this time, he was better than a few cents in his pocket! Booze, beautiful women, delicious food! It was all within his grasp, and like hell he was about to shy away at the first chance to see how far he could go!

Bolstering himself, Tak placed the ticket back into his pocket with renewed confidence, staring dead-ahead at the blonde as she approached, she was in earshot now, it was do or die time!

“Yo!” Tak curtly waved toward her, hoping to gain her attention as wore a toothy not caring how disheveled he looked, from his messy thick hair and wrinkled clothing, and spotty stubble as he tried to talk to the woman who was leagues out of his.

He had already got the ball rolling, he just needed to stick its landing. Now wasn’t the time to get cold feet!

“Damn, you’re pretty!” Tak bluntly stated, leaning a shoulder against the nearby edge as he prepared to state his intentions plainly, no point in awkwardly beating around the bush “Think I could treat you to some--”

As he prepared to finish his statement, his eyes drifted away to look over toward the shifting ocean, waves splashing against the hull. All of a sudden, he became aware of the fact they were sailing and moving across the ocean.

Huh, for some reason that didn’t sit right with him. Why does his throat feel so tight all of a sudden--

“GOPPUAAAHHHHH!”

Tak leaned over the side of a ship as a blur of mosaic-blurred green and brown chunky sludge spewed out of his mouth and splashed down into the ocean below in a long stream. What had just happened? Tak didn’t know as he weakly stepped back away from the edge, evident bags under his eyes as his color had considerably paled in his sickness, a stray strand of vomit hanging from the corner of his mouth before he wiped it with his sleeve. He shakily turned to look back at the woman he had attempted to hit on, chuckling awkwardly.

“...Looks like….I get seasick…” He faintly spoke, all of his confidence from earlier had left along with his bowels.

So much for this being his big break!


QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel Wxnter Wxnter
 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Monday Brunch
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 5th
LOCATION:
Passeri's Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park, Ryutaro Hashimoto
Monday Brunch
This was rich. Memories of the day of the earthquake flushed through Passeri's mind. In Ryutaro's words, she heard parroted those of the keepers. Ambition. A higher purpose. That sanctimonious proclamation of philanthropy. It seemed like every self-righteous member of the elite these days had a speech prepared to explain why they, specifically, were the rightful inheritors of whatever seat of power it was that they pursued.

"A better world, hm?" They were pretty words, to be certain. Ones she'd probably echoed before. "It's a bit less grandiose in my case, but we're on a similar wavelength, then! I'm sure you're familiar enough with the work that my agency and I have been putting into the city..." Over Passeri, the grim crown that was Central's desolation loomed large, infusing her words with a bitter sense of futility.

"...But clearly, it's not cutting it. There's only so much that I- that any of us can do in the face of the forces at play in this city. King or Queen, Jack or Ace... We're like children fighting over sandcastles." And it was only a matter of time until some sleeping giant came along and knocked them all down. "So long as we're fighting, at least. What I want for this gang and what I want for this city are the same, and it's simple. Togetherness. For us to finally lay down our petty grudges and make this hellscape of a metropolis finally live up to its name."

On paper, it was a simple thing. But they'd not been blessed with such storybook straightforwardness.

"I'll be honest with you. The history lesson? Less convincing than you'd think." They'd been sparkling platitudes, and nothing more than that. It was oh so simple a thing to compare oneself to history's greats, but scrawling one's own name into the history books alongside them was a test of mettle that most would fall short of. Ryutaro clearly held the confidence to consider himself above that pitiable minority, but whether he possessed the competence and determination to escape that grasping sea of hands, only time would tell.

"Making the world a better place, on the other hand... That's something I'd like to believe in. It's a kind of thinking that we could certainly use more of in this city." She'd had more than her share of defeated nihilists. "So long as these aren't just pretty little words, at least! I'll be keeping my eyes peeled, Sir Queen. I hope I'll be seeing the seeds of this better world of yours sometime soon.

 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Fighting A Wild Animal Seems Scary Until You Get Hungry
LOCATION:
Central
DATE:
April 17, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Tak, Dante
Fighting A Wild Animal Seems Scary Until You Get Hungry
Whatever malevolent force that intrigued Hiachi to go anywhere with Tak was feeling particularly cruel that day. When she came home last night, half-sober and three-thousand amestriyen poorer, of course she hadn’t been thinking very clearly. She gave him a simple ‘okay’, and her fate was sealed.

So here she was. In the sun, hungover, at the zoo—watching as the man she met a little more than a week ago yell at a child.

Why would you say that… Hiachi scolded, already exasperated. “You made a little girl cry. Do you want this to be your legacy?”

She wasn’t exactly making sense, but she couldn’t scrape up enough energy to use words that made sense given the context. Part of her wanted to turn around and walk out of the zoo, but the other half wanted to stretch whatever money that had been spent on the ticket. She hadn’t ever been to the zoo outside of that one field trip in second grade, because there was nothing more nightmarish than handling five kids that acted more like animals than the ones in the enclosures.

Tak didn’t think so, though. He was loudly complaining in the middle of the establishment. If he hates the zoo so much, why didn’t he sell the tickets!?

Hiachi was speechless as Tak started complaining about bringing her along. With a heavy sigh, she looked at the clock. Today was going to be a long day.

The good thing was she wasn’t alone this time. A lean and pale man that was about the same height as Tak, and yet infinitely more foreboding. Hiachi had seen a couple of parents veering their kids away from him, like he was the embodiment of the plague. To be fair, he did look irritated. Uncomfortable.

How did Tak become friends with someone so brooding? Hiachi didn’t know. But at least he was there. She wanted to introduce herself, but the words weren’t coming to her. Instead, she aligned herself with him as they walked, hoping her solidarity would come across.



 
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Helva Linxal
SCENE:
To live in the shadows
LOCATION:
Falcons Perch, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Helva, Charlie Roda the Red Roda the Red
To live in the shadows

Helva smirk widened as the man started approaching, grabbing the handle of hot coffee that was brought to her by their waiter, she then made a quick glance to the steak cutting knife making sure it was there. Before looking back to the man storming towards her table, she was more than ready for a fight if need be, and by how things were going a fight was more than likely to happen. Helvas wasn't really fond of fighting in a space with so many people like this, but it wasn't like she was able to choose the fight location and those guys were just too straightforward with their approach in getting what they wanted. It honestly left a sour taste in Helvas mouth, but before the man could get in between their table, their waiter had gotten between them, Helva couldn't help but frown as he did that, a thought came to mind Just what does he think he is doing? But while she doubted he was any sorta mind reader she couldn't help but be a bit concerned now, since the kid was playing hero. It wasn't something she had anticipated in her plans for this scenario and but she knew that she had to adapt pretty quickly to it, as their adversary got into a heated argument, Helva did nothing but watch things unfold, to her surprise their waiter, was much stronger than she had anticipated being able to push back the Raging Bull member back towards their friends, much to the surprise of the other members. Helva was now sure that he was definitely a hp, though if that was just natural strength or his potential, she wasn't entirely sure as of yet.

Though after a moment of stunned silence, the men regathered their bearings and the rest of them started drawing their weapons, the biggest of them pulling out a pair of fisticuffs and the other one pulling out a duel set of knives. They each going in separate directions in order to try to encircle the blue haired boy as best as they could, kicking whatever obstacle in their way, while the other civilians in the place moved away from them when they got too close. The bigger man then spoke up cracking his neck before saying, "Alright kid, so you wanna play Hero huh? well I'm goanna show you what happens to wanna be heroes that get in our way."

Helva looked at the scene for a moment, debating on weather to jump in or not, their waiter was outnumbered 3 to 1, he surely must of had some sorta plan for this if he was so willing to get in-between the group. He had unknowingly saved that swords man life, though that was a good thing anyways, she wanted two of them alive so that should be able to properly interrogate them later, the bigger man, was the guy she wanted dead. Just by the looks of him, he would of been too much of a hassle to restrain and transport, and would probably be a pain in the ass to take down and subdue, it would of been better to just kill him and take in the other two. Though while Helva originally felt like her best bet was to watch the scene play out, she felt that she had to intervene so that her knight in shining armor didn't get himself killed. Dealing with enemies from three directions was a not exactly that fun. She honestly expected the three to be more of the type to charge forward swinging at everything that moves rather than actually try to be strategic about anything. But it is what it is, Helva got up from their seat, and grabbed their mug of hot coffee, before walking in front of their waiter, and speaking "Now hold on a minute, now, i think i recall you guys from somewhere, Ah Hah! You guys are from that small little gang in the West, the Raging Bulls aren't ya?"

The bigger man of the group looked at her, with a sneer before saying "Pshhh, so you do know who we are then? Then you should of known that getting in our way was a mistake, but if our reputation is great enough to where a southern bitch like you would know who we are then I guess there is a bit of hope for this rat hole." Helva slowly approached the bigger man as she spoke "Oh yeah, come to think of it I did also hear another thing about you guys as well." The man then lifted up one of eye brows as if curious as what she was going to say next, but just when Helva had gotten in reach of the man, she stopped approaching him and instead simply said "That you guys had full intentions of sticking your nose down where it doesn't belong." without hesitation she splashed the contents of the coffee cup onto the mans face, making him cry out in pain the the hot, liquid blinded him, as he then went for a swing, towards her, but Helva had anticipated that quickly throwing the mug at towards the sword man, and drawing out her tomahawk and she ducked down, slashing at the mans thighs causing him to scream out in pain, she then quickly went on to follow up their slash with a slash towards the mans neck , but instead of hitting flesh she was met with a thunk as his skin started to harden. Helva cursed a bit as the man fell to the ground "KILL THAT BITCH! NOW! YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!" he screamed out loud as he shouted in pain, and the man with knives in his hand quickly charged towards Helva with swinging wildly as he slashed towards her. While the sword wielder delayed a bit due to slashing at the cup that was thrown at him, shards flying in different directions as his sword connected. Both of the mens attention were now focused on her, and they forgot entirely about their original target as they focused more on taking the women who nearly killed their supposed leader.

 

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