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

Roda the Red @Coyote Hart

SCENE:

Ice Breakers

LOCATION:

New Oasis Police Department Floor 2 Break Room, Central District

TIME:

Post Arc 3 || June 25th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Sebastian, Chikage, Kyoden, Jean, Tatsuo, Yelena, Inigo, Eric

ICE BREAKERS

It made her smile, seeing so many of her peers attend. Eric. Inigo... Then the superiors, Chikage and Yelena, and a new face. Kyoden, a cop who went undercover in the Serpents. Tatsuo's smile tugged with sympathy. She'd heard and seen how violent the Serpents could be. It must have taken plenty of grit and endurance to stay in their company for so long... "Welcome back, Kyoden," she greeted with a slight bow of her head. "I hope you will feel at ease now that you're out of the woods."

Something about his face seemed strangely familiar. Tatsuo flicked through her memories, particularly of people in the East... but drew a blank.

There was another thing on her mind, anyway. Yelena; notably how the others shifted in her presence. Tatsuo wasn't there for the raid, but she picked up some details on what happened. Yelena apparently brought a defense that was... inhumane, putting it simply. She had no idea what that entailed, but she didn't want this gathering to form the way it might around Yelena. What she needed was a way to break the ice.

And Tatsuo knew exactly what to bring up.

She approached Yelena, scrolling through her phone and the funny memes on her social media. On the first one she found, Tatsuo showed it.

"He's talking about the phrase 'money talks,' but then he talks as if it's his money. And he says his money just waves goodbye instead! That means his money is being spent too quickly, but he's saying it as if money was a living thing, like how the phrase says 'money talks!'" Tatsuo couldn't hold her giggling, finding it way funnier than it really was.

Peckinou · Sep 29, 2023

Helva Linxal

SCENE:

To live in the shadows

LOCATION:

Warehouse, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Helva, Hiyma, Charlie

To live in the shadows

Helva stayed quiet as she kept hidden within the warehouse, watching and waiting as Charlie made no attempt to take the initiative, seconds turned to minutes and it didn't take long before it soon became dark. His fate was now sealed as she had now gained an advantage against him, the darkness was her home and she welcomed it's embrace as she could now see clearly. If there is one thing Helva had to admit, it was that the kid did have patience, but unfortunately, patience wasn't the right answer in this scenario for him. He should have known that the test had started as soon as he entered the place, and now that it was completely dark Helva was ready to strike. As Charlie finally began to transverse the area, Helva kept quiet a slowly followed him her eyes being able to see him clearly and her dark clothing blended well with the darkness. She looked down below her as Charlie moved and soon stopped upon kicking a piece of rebar, breaking it apart and wrapping it around his fist in order to form a makeshift weapon. When he was done there was silence for a fleeting moment, Helva didn't make a single move as she then gave a one-word telepathic message to Hiyma "Now." .

After that Helva withdrew for a moment and then pushed a crate towards Charlie in order to make it fall on top of him, she didn't know what was in it but the crate felt heavy enough. Still, she didn't hesitate before moving to a new location and shoving another crate toward him, and then she jumped after the crate using it to conceal herself and make her own attack, planning to use her weight and the force of gravity in order to land and kick him towards the ground.

----------------------------------
Meanwhile, after Hiyma had received the signal she let out a sigh as she soon put away her phone, allowing the shadows to take a grip on her, a comforting feeling that she was very much use to by now. Now it was gripping her as dark shadows began to encase her in a sort of catacomb for a fleeting minute, and it then soon began to transform her.

simj26 · Sep 29, 2023

Elise Cutter

SCENE:

Calling Amestria

TIME:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 4th, 2022

LOCATION:

Not-So-Abandoned Storefront, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Dagger

Calling Amestria

The Princess was struggling. With every attempt she made to move the equipment, grunts of exertion escaped from her lips. It was almost entertaining to watch. She had made a few sharp exhalations through her mouth every time the Princess stumbled, trying to shift the plants by herself. At least she had asked for help, unlike other people she could name. That was what she was here for, after all. A helping hand, whether it be to open up unwanted packages, or open up someone’s throat. Still, even then, the Princess was stubborn enough to keep trucking along with her self-assigned workload. Elise questioned the wisdom of such a decision. It seemed as if being a HP did little to aid her in terms of strength, not to mention that sweater wrapped around her. A cute ensemble, but very unhelpful in such weather.

By comparison, Elise, herself, was in an unflattering tank top and a pair of dirty jeans, with a headband tied around her head to keep the sweat off her face. The shadows under her eyes had lifted considerably, and her countenance was a little better off, looking less like she had spent 5 years without proper sleep, always clutching onto a gun, facing the door.

She stepped out from the van, pulling with her yet another plant, and lifted it through the threshold with ease, just in time to face the Princess’s question. She smirked, and exhaled through her nose. “One or two left. In my experience, just keep truckin’ always seems to be the way it works. Get into the rhythm of it. Eventually, it just becomes a blur.” For the past few items, she had simply deposited them to one side, and returned to drag the others out of the van. This one, however, she marched towards the rest of the displays that the Princess had made.

“You, however, look like you’re having blurs for a different reason” She set down the plant, dusted her hands, and walked back to the van. She reached through the driver’s window, and pulled out a bottle of water. She tossed it over to the Princess. “Take five, ‘Seri. I'm not in the mood to play nurse.” She gave the Princess a saluting wave, climbed back into the van, and re-emerged, dragging out yet another load.

She grunted and shifted her grip, before making her way back to the gathering of plants. “So, what’s the plan with all these? We really gonna open this place up?”

The One Eyed Bandit · Sep 29, 2023

Passeri Park

SCENE:

Return To Sender

TIME:

Post-Arc 2

LOCATION:

Hotel Gaul, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park

Return To Sender

A shadow loomed at the end of the hall, a girl-shaped hole in the crack of light spilling out of the bathroom door. Passeri kept her eyes trained on the man, unblinking, as he did for her. Within his mind, he was a knife on a spring. A cobra, waiting to strike. She only needed to flinch, to blink, to show some crack in her composure, and then he would strike. His muscles tensed, and his focus narrowed. The more his world reduced, the more it became he and his target, the deeper his ignorance grew.

When Hiachi pulled the towel taut around his mouth, he almost didn't notice. Addled by fixation as it was, his mind dismissed the white streak that flicked across his vision. Only when his mouth went dry, and the piece of stained cloth tightened around his head, did his grasp on the world reassert itself.

His high pushed him through the shock, and he twisted violently within Hiachi's grasp. A pair of red, angry hands immediately went to the chemical-soaked cloth, desperately struggling to yank the intrusion from his gullet. Normally, it might have be in vain, but his blood was running hot with both adrenaline and fine, white powder he'd snorted only an hour before. Passeri's eyes went wide as she saw the fabric begin to pull away, tearing to shreds at the man's frenzied strength.

No wonder he'd been able to so casually toss her through a wall.

The hallway turned pink as a set of Passeri's constructs swung into the man's fists, knocking them clear of the rag. He continued to struggle for a few moments more, but the more desperate he grew, the sharper his breaths grew, and the more distant his strength became.

With a final, pathetic gurgle, his body went limp, and he slid to the floor.

"Great work!" Passeri beamed, marching over to Hiachi's side. She wasn't sure what she'd expected of the girl, but this sort of decisiveness was not it. Her face was bright, beneath her mask, or at least it was until it turned entirely stiff. Hiachi spoke plainly. A plainness that did not match the content of what she'd said.

"Sorry?" The word left Passeri's lips before she processed it, tinged deep with surprise. There was an amount of initiative she found refreshing, and then there was a step further that became chilling. She wasn't sure where this lay.

"Off the balcony? That's-" Insane. The word caught in her mouth. Now that she'd said it out loud, she couldn't deny that it made sense. She was getting an image of the gears that were turning within the younger woman's head. It would've been easy. It would've been clean. It would've tied up all of her loose ends.

But, damn it all, could she really turn Kenki's little sister into a killer?

"Let's take it easy." She couldn't. Not if she wanted to look him in the eyes tomorrow. "This is the guy. The reason we're here. He doesn't know it yet, but his life is already over, and with that laptop taken off his hands, there's nothing he can do about it." Her words were steady, and firm. She recognized the trembling in Hiachi's eyes. She'd seen it in her own, a long time ago. There were more highs that a person could ride than only the chemical kind.

"Help me move him into the tub, instead. If we dress it up a little, anyone is just going to think that anything coming out of his mouth is just because this little bender of his." She placed her hand on the younger woman's shoulder, and locked her eyes with hers. "Okay?"

She wasn't asking.

miki

thebigfella · Sep 29, 2023

Takakazu Shishido

CS Link

SCENE:

The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

LOCATION:

Central District

DATE:

July 12, 2013

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi (

miki )

The Memories of Summer Are Remembered More Fondly When You’re Stuck In The Cold

With the girl finally giving up on trying to touch his heroic weapon, the masked mystery stepped back onto his feet, hoisting the stick over his shoulder as he looked at the girl curiously. She had a look of indignation on her face, a look of someone not about to just let things go.

“Ehhh?” Her question earned a sharp tilt of his head, “What are you talkin’ about? Girls can’t be heroes! Boys get to be heroes!” He explained, pointing his stick at her with a grin, “Girls only get to be princesses!”

He was clearly teasing her, sticking out his tongue childishly, though it quickly found itself retracted back into his lips as the sounds of jiggling coins hit his ears. He looked at the tiny coin purse of hers with a blink. It looked like it was handmade; the minor imperfections in the fish’s eyes reminded him of some of the toys his mom would bring back home for him when he was younger, usually having misshapen limbs or heads or being completely indistinguishable creatures, like the one “Cowbuckle” thing he had, but they were all made from his grandma.

…He kind of wanted his own coin purse like that. If his grandma was still around, she probably would knit him one.

It’s not like he would have anything to put it in; he’s never had his own money.

His face visibly scrunched up. At that moment, he realized he had become jealous of this girl and her purse full of coins. And as she talked so confidently, using big words he didn’t understand, his face only scrunched up more until wrinkles and smile lines were prominent enough to appear on his cheap plastic mask as his mouth upturned in dissatisfaction.

“I bet you're lying." He called her out, trying to mask that fact that he was jealous by believing she was bluffing. "Go ahead and prove it then!" He demanded, pointing a finger right at her. "And I'm going too, to make sure you're not cheating!"

angel doe · Sep 29, 2023

celestine renee cadieux

SCENE:

spotting the wingless

LOCATION:

east district

TIME:

nighttime, post-arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

jozef, nona-me, keith, celestine

spotting the wingless

Just as Celestine was going to aim a strike at the red-haired one, the other dragon rushed past and dropped something at her feet. It shattered, splashing something against her legs and causing the taller woman to jump back, "What did you-?" Celeste's question was abruptly cut off by her startled yell as she floated into the air, pale eyes widening.

Thankfully Celeste didn't float too high, but this was enough of an inconvenience to prevent her from helping her fellow serpents. This whole thing was also incredibly disorienting, but that was quickly overshadowed by her anger and frustration. The only thing Celestine was useful for outside of destroying the memories of others was her strength and skill in a fight, and now she couldn't even offer that.

As much as she wanted to do something, anything, she didn't dare move out of fear she would spiral out of control. Rather, Celestine prayed her feet would touch solid ground again soon. Each second that passed was excruciatingly slow and she could feel her eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. All Celeste could do was watch helplessly as her friends were attacked.

Celestine's gaze found Flea first as the other dragon rushed her, swinging a large axe and missing three times before finally pinning Flea's jacket against the wall and punching her in the stomach. Celeste could feel every muscle in her body tense as the dragon pulled her axe out of the wall again and swung. She seemed to be swinging a bit high, if Flea ducked in time she might fare better than if she tried to jump away.

"FLEA, DUCK! Celestine called out, hoping Flea would be able to get out of the way in time. At that same moment, she finally fell back to the ground, landing on her feet and stumbling forward.

It was then that she saw Tick and her heart dropped to her stomach. He had fresh wounds in his torso and blood covered him. Celestine rushed to Tick, grabbing and pulling him away from the red-haired one, "Try to refrain from dying, please. I cannot bear the thought of bringing any of you back in body bags." Her voice shook while she took a brief moment to bind Tick's wounds with her own jacket in an attempt to staunch some of the bleeding.

"Do not do anything rash," Celestine held Tick's gaze evenly as she spoke before turning to see what else she could do.

Celeste had two choices: Help Flea or help Jozef, but she couldn't do both. Why couldn't she have been born with a more useful potential? Cursing internally, the tall woman turned to the person closest to her and the one currently at the most risk- Flea and the dark-haired dragon wielding an axe.

Rushing the dragon, Celestine aimed to slam into her in an attempt to get her away from Flea. There wasn't much else she could do- though perhaps it was worth trying to scramble the other dragon's brains- confuse her enough to incapacitate her. It might buy them some extra time, hell even a few minutes might be the difference between life and death for them.

gxxberkit

WhiskeyMarten

Roda the Red · Sep 29, 2023

CHARLIE HUGHES

SCENE:

[A Helping Hand]

TIME:

Sunrise, January 10 2022, Post-Arc 2

LOCATION:

East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Kazue

A HELPING HAND

As Kazue partially dismissed his worries, replying that her knowledge of his situation simply came from a message, his heart grew less weary. Perhaps Dragons had a habit to warn nearby civilians about gang threats as well? Would fall in line with their manipulative delusions of peace, after all. However, his weak smile banished as soon as she presented him a very concerning hypothetical. "Well, I uhh, uhmm..." He was barely able to utter anything in response. What WAS he supposed to say? On one hand, he would probably take his leave and run away as fast as possible, as one dragon can easily call for the help of many. But on the other hand, Kazue DID claim she wanted to help him, but , could he really trust that, if that happened to be the case? Which of course, fortunately wasn't.

Well, that is until she released a final bombshell, actually confirming her identity as one of the gansters of the East. His eyes went wide, his limps trembling as he forced a very awkward smile. "Oh no no no no" He uttered, walking in quick circles as he held his head with both hands.

I SLEPT WITH THE ENEMY?!

As much of a promising rising star as he was, the rookie was far from flawless. Many a mistake tarnished his track record, but out of all of them, this one might take the cake, not, it took the entire bakery.

Pushing the elephant out of the room. Charlie's mind returned to the issue at hand, as he was now faced with an offer of help from an Azure Dragon. He knew the girl, and seriously wanted to trust her. But beyond her mere words, there was no evidence that her intentions were true, and not a ploy to get him to lower his guard. He needed to make a choice, and he needed to be fast about it.

He turned around, his expression still doubtful and worried, giving gentle steps towards Kazue. "Would you...really help me?" He took one more step before stopping altogether. His shoulders relaxed, having made up his mind on his choice. "I guess it's only fair I tell you...I'm from the Scarlet Phoenixes...B-but I promise I haven't killed any dragons! I just had to fight because I had no choice"

Hesitating for a few seconds, Charlie pulled back on his sleeve after recalling Kazue's petition to show where she needed to aid him, revealing somewhat nasty gash along the length of his forearm. While it wasn't bleeding much at this point, it had already coated most of the limb in red. It also just now served as a reminder that the wound HURT LIKE HELL, but for now he would have to just deal with it. He also had a few minor wounds here and there, but if any place needed to be tended to, it was that cut. "So...Do you have like a medikit or something...?"

@azenmannumber2

joshuadim · Sep 29, 2023

HITOSHI YAMAKAWA

CS Link

SCENE:

Searching for the Light

TIME:

The Day After Get(ting) Help

LOCATION:

Tommy's (Abandoned) Scrapyard, Outskirts of South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hitoshi, Charlie

SEARCHING FOR THE LIGHT

Hitoshi blinked towards Charlie in silence for a few moments as dead air took over the atmosphere, before the veteran shook his head. "Kid, c'mon, that wasn't just stress." Hitoshi then stated with a concerned frown. Dusk had started to settle after having spent so much time at the scrapyard, as the waning light of day truly began to give way to night. The fleeting sun illuminated a part of Hitoshi's face as he let out a sigh. Before Charlie could respond, Hitoshi went back over to the truck and grill and turned both off. The faint echo of music was no more, leaving the two with just the ambience of a soft breeze and the distant city horns.

It was then, wordlessly, Hitoshi motioned his head over towards the crane that once carried loads of metal with its powerful magnet. To climb up its spine towards its peak, it would provide an ample view of the distant - yet ever so present - city of New Oasis and the nearby highways that connected to it like arteries. Charlie, without any other recourse, climbed up the ladder towards the top as well and found Hitoshi sitting; staring at the city beyond as his feet dangled off the edge of the crane. "You don't gotta lie to me, kiddo." Hitoshi then said, finally breaking the tenuous void of conversation that had erupted from earlier.

"What's on your mind?" Hitoshi asked, turning his gaze towards the rookie. "No bullshitting. Just between you and me."

joshuadim · Sep 29, 2023

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

The Art of the Deal

LOCATION:

West District, Czar Restaurant

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Ryutaro

The Art of the Deal

"Good choice." Ryu said, as he waved the waiter over to take the menu and their orders. "Pierogi for my guest, please. And I will have the cranberry and sour cream cake, with a side of black tea. Oh, and some tea for my guest as well." Ryu then turned his attention to Hiachi briefly: "The tea here is quite a spectacular little thing. Trust me." The waiter nodded and briskly left towards the kitchen, leaving both Hiachi and Ryu alone for the time being. It was then that Ryu spoke up again, with a slight curl to his lips: "It's written all over your face: 'why am I here? what do you want from me?'" he said in a jesting manner, "For someone who once had a poker face, you sure do wear everything on your sleeve."

Gently tapping the table he then leaned forward with his hands clasped in front of his mouth and elbows on the table. "Now. Before I answer you, I want you to answer my own question. So, do tell me, who are you?" he asked, "Why did you simply walk into the casino and decide to start ripping off everyone in sight? Bold. I will commend you for that. But also stupid, given the town you're in." The Tiger Queen then narrowed his eyes: "Help me understand you."

miki

gxxberkit · Sep 29, 2023

YONG-YUT SOMSRI

SCENE:

Pecking Order

TIME:

Post Arc-3

LOCATION:

DMV, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

YY, Zane

Pecking Order

At the man’s entrance, Yong-Yut did not look up. People come and go through the door all the time— that tends to be how buildings work.

But at his choice of seating, and his familiar voice being directed towards her, she had to spare a glance. (As did everyone else; such is human curiosity. Lucky for them, though, they were granted the ability to pay him no more mind.)

She flinched at the sight of him. For a moment, her face crunched into a mix of confusion and agitation. Lightly tapping on her clipboard, she looked back down to write. Her posture straightened. Her breathing became deliberate.

“I’m afraid I don’t know a ‘Yee-Yee,’” she mumbled. The ceramic diamonds that ran along the trim of her scarf clacked against the legs of the chair. “Perhaps”—the scrawling on her paper became faster—“you’ve mistaken me for someone else?”

BluEndings

gxxberkit · Sep 29, 2023

Nona-me Gregor

SCENE:

For Rest

LOCATION:

Nona's Forest, East District

TIME:

March 7 2020

PARTICIPANTS:

Nona-me, Hifumi

For Rest

She hummed with a smile. “Those are funny coincidences.” Her eyes opened to gaze upon the water. “Usually I just reflect on my day and grievances. And then I check on Percy.

“But really,” she tittered, “I only asked as a conversation starter.” With the wind gently pushing her hair, she stuck her hand into the cold water. “How are you, how’s it going, what’s on your mind? In that sort of vein.”

She turned to him. “But, your response was perfect, anyway.

“...How do you keep finding yourself at watering holes?” she mused.

Her attention went to the swan in the distance. From so far away, it almost seemed stationary. The gentle ripples on the water running towards the bank, however, gave away its small movements.

Nona-me suddenly perked up, turning to face Hifumi once more. “Would you like to give Percy a treat before we leave?”

BluEndings

thebigfella · Sep 29, 2023

BLACK CLOAKS (NPCS)

SCENE:

The Murder Above The Coffin

LOCATION:

Central District > North District

TIME:

June 8th, 2022 || Post-Arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

Areith, Deirest (

The One Eyed Bandit )

THE MURDER ABOVE THE COFFIN

The moon sat in the sky, bright, illuminating the cloudless sky. The surrounding city melted away, melding into nothingness, the world faded as the void closed in, the skyline distorted, distant buildings twisted and turned, structures turning non-euclidian.

Reality shifted around her, the threads of fate wrapped around the stumbling corpse, warm blood turned cold within the wind. Smoke from rotten lungs breathed in oxygen but spat out iron, decomposed cells spurred to resurrection as sundered flesh opened the doors to infection.

The infection. A disease that didn’t just seek to surpass immunity. It climbed, it clawed, it scraped, rising and screaming until it gripped the stem of the brain. It approached at all ends, it would approach with a walk, it could climb up from the ground.

It could fall from the sky.

Battered wings splayed across the moon, spread wide in numerous numbers to block out the sky. Descending like crows, swarming like locusts, each one landed, one after another, quiet as a rodent as their knees bent, the momentum of their landing flowing up their bodies. They all stood, in unison, circling around her, pillars of darkness, spires of shadows. Their faces were obscured within the shade of their hoods, distinct features of each one manifested in size, disfigurements on their fingers in scales and fur.

The wind blew, their cloaks rustled in the wind, fluttering as the whizzing past their ears swallowed all other noise. A moment of stillness, a pause of uncertainty, the intersection that would decide if the canvas would be painted with blood or ink.

…They dropped to their knees. Heads dipped low, some placed their hands onto the ground and dipped into dogeza, others took the position of humble knights, keeping one knee propped up, some had their hands clasped together in prayer.

The appearance varied, but the intention was clear. They looked upon the risen with holy elation, forming their act as apostles.

“Messiah.” They spoke.

A term that meant many things. Hope, savior, salvation.

The Anointed One.

“You have risen, and so we have found you, just as foretold.”

The cloaks spoke within the realm of mystery, their words just confusing and incoherent as the constantly spinning bubble she had found herself back on. With every step, she threatened to pop it.

“We are here as your escorts. We will follow His will.” The members dare not rise back to their feet as they raised their heads to look back up at Deirest, their position below, upon His gifted earth.

“We only have one request as His humble followers. Please, allow us to show you to our place of worship. Our Sister, she requests to meet you. We have even prepared a feast in your honor.”

The featureless hoods continued to make their voice heard, before quickly bowing their heads once more, waiting for the choice of their Messiah. The choice she made was His choice, they would not question her decisions, only follow and listen, using their bodies as His tools, the only thing they can do as His chosen.

They waited patiently, for the first drops to hit the blank canvas, for the future to be written in front of them.

What shade would Deirest pick? She did not hold a brush, muddled finger-paints would have to do.

Roda the Red · Sep 30, 2023

ERIC EVENSEN

CS Link

SCENE:

Lady Madonna

LOCATION:

June 24th, 2022 | Post Arc 3

LOCATION:

Our ✰ Dream Soup Kitchen, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Eric, Passeri

Lady Madonna

Eric's sly smile returned as he continued to look straight into the simmering pot. Not even needing to look at his friend behind him, he just knew what kind of face she must've made when she found the ingredient. His eyes darted to the side as the large container was placed in his vicinity. "Nay, that'd be all, thanks"

He shifted the weight of his body onto a single leg as he reached for the tub, his fingertips sliding their way under the lid, pulling gently to take it off. He listened to Passeri go off as he took a hold of a large bundle of noodles, holding it right above the pot of hot soup. "The answer is the pasta" He let the bundle fall on the soup, making a small splash that didn't manage to jump over the walls of the pot. "The story traces back to 1703, where a pasta maker and merchant called Rolando Garivaldi started making a name for himself with his invention, the Capellini" He took the ladle out of the pot, now leaving the food on its own as the pasta needed to soften up before he could touch it again. He turned around, leaning his hip on the countertop, and resting his arms cross against his chest. "The pasta was extremely popular because of how convenient it was to store, as it occupied way less space relative to its weight. After three years, the man amassed enough capital to buy all of the sorrounding lands, unifying them all under a single banner, the city then named after the ingredient that made it all possible"

He shot Passeri a nonchalant glance before craning his neck to the right, a satisfying crack relaxing his muscles when he reached a certain angle. "Ow." However, his neck still hurt, had been like that since he woke up, probably because of Marley having slept on his head that very night, out of his four rascals, it was him who the least grasp on the concept of boundaries.

WhiskeyMarten · Sep 30, 2023

HECTOR MOSES

CS Link

SCENE:

H-Eye

TIME:

Post Arc-2

LOCATION:

Red West, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hector, Yong-Yut

H-EYE

"People have faith in me, they're counting on me. They're leaning on me, Yong-Yut."

He was his own worst enemy, wasn't he? Hector's voice raised for a moment, as though astounded by Yong-Yut's audacity to suggest such a thing, even when all but his own words were begging for help.

"I don't want you goin' round telling people I need support. I know you understand this kinda shit, but you're different from the others. I guess… I'm not going to decline your help though. It would be good to have someone else around to talk to."

Hector shuffled to the end of the booth, looking ready to leave.

"I think… maybe I gotta go visit Reika again. After I get changed. If you wanna come with, I won't stop you."

Ramjammer · Sep 30, 2023

I Would Like to See Your Permit.

Lorette Lècuyer CS LINK

Scene: I Would Like to See Your Permit.

Time: Night Time. December 2021. Post Arc 2.

Location: Lower Central District

Participants: Lorette, Eric

Perched on top of the shipping container stack like a Gargoyle, Lorette craned her head down to stare blankly at the man. She'd expected him to get involved in some way. He couldn't stand by when there were people in danger. But she figured his assistance would come in the form of him ushering people out of the area and waiting for backup. What good could a single man do against a monster? A hell of a lot when that man had a Potential to fight said monster.

He was a veritable beacon in the dark. Golden light suffused both of his hands and cast him in a warm glow. Perhaps to the people fleeing, it was a reassuring sight. To know that someone with the means to fight back would step forward and take her to task in their stead.

Lorette could only see the flashing lights of a dire warning. She didn't know what the man could do, but he'd been dead serious about detaining her. The man's combat expertise would not be lacking for him to be so confident in his ability to control their short-lived encounter.

Wickedly sharp talons tapped rhythmically on the rusted metal of the shipping container as Lorette propped her chin in the opposite paw and weighed her options. She could have stayed on the makeshift tower and attempted to wait him out. It was quite the vertical climb to the top, and such a direct approach would be suicidal for him. However, he behaved like a confrontation was imminent and didn't look like he'd be backing down. There was no way that he hadn't called for backup after her disappearing act, either.

Getting in his face, though, that could get ugly. And while Lorette certainly had the looks to match, she hadn't come out that evening intending to fight anyone. Killing him would just be tacky. She wasn't averse to the idea. But it would reflect poorly on her to do so. Lorette had already dug herself in too deep as it was. Adding a body on top of everything would only further bring her competence into question. Even robbing him wouldn't be worth the effort. Not when she knew what a cop's salary was like.

Sitting up on her haunches, Lorette raised her paws to eye level and studied them closely. They were built to rend and tear. Killing came as naturally to her malformed body as breathing did. She had little reason to doubt their purpose. Yet the Beast's talons were delicately shaped, formed in a manner consistent with human hands. Both had opposable thumbs and pointed to a higher intelligence. Lorette herself could write in her monstrous form if given the appropriate implements. Such things were unnecessary for a beast.

"The capacity to create and destroy is a single intention apart. Are these limbs not a reflection of that? Why would God make both my killing hand and my writing hand one and the same if they were not to do both? I will not kill this man. By choice, not circumstance."

Lorette's thoughts had taken her to that internal place that rarely could be breached by outside forces. The considerations of a mortal woman's flesh and blood form had no business dwelling in such a baleful place. Yet, despite her efforts, Lorette's thoughts would always return there. Were she the kind of woman to bask in her ignorance, she'd gladly place the blame on the Beast. Yet, the Human within her had the misfortune to know better.0

Her intentions took hold of her body, and corded muscles rippled as Lorette's body snapped from repose to action. In the blink of an eye, a pitch-black form was sailing through the air and arcing towards the ground. A single limb, made only to destroy, shot forward at the last possible moment to brace the Beast's body against the impact. Paved stone and dirt gave easily under her claws and exploded outwards in a flurry of stone shrapnel and obscuring dust. In a single feline movement, Lorette commenced her hunt.

She was a large target and knew it. There were no places for her to easily hide in the Square's open space. The battlefield did not suit her needs, and so, as with all things that did not benefit Lorette, she sought to change and control it.

The glow of her opponent's power cut through the veil of dust she'd kicked up. She didn't know what the man's potential did or how much it would hurt, but so long as it made him an easier target, Lorette would find a way to deal with it.

Her claws raked at the ground, and more cobblestones were pulled from the earth to be promptly flung in the man's direction. Lorette was interested in seeing just how good his aim was.

Roda the Red · Sep 30, 2023

CHARLIE HUGHES

SCENE:

Dress Code for Violence

TIME:

Evening, Post-Arc 2, April 2nd 2022

LOCATION:

Phoenix HQ, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Yong-Yut

Dress Code for Violence

"EH?" Charlie arched his shoulders back, taken by surprise by Yong's unexpected response. He honestly expected the usual treatment people gave him in situations like this, maybe a 'oh, that sucks' or a 'that's rough, buddy', perhaps a couple pats on the back and then they would resume their day as if the little exchange had never happened. "Would you really?!" His eyes sparkled with hope for a moment, before turning to a somewhat puzzled and slightly skeptical expression. "How are you gonna do it? Should I get you a sewing kit? I don't have any at home" He handed over the suit, letting it drop on YY's hands. He reached for his wallet, concerned about the middling amount of cash he carried. "Are there any textile shops open at this hour? Do you think a kit could cost much?" At this point, for some reason, he had already made up a complication in his mind, not even remembering that the veteran in front of him had no need for any of that.

"How much would you charge me, by the way? I don't have a lot on me right now but I can go get more!" If he was lucky he could come out of this pickle while able to afford a whole frozen meal!

gxxberkit

The One Eyed Bandit · Oct 1, 2023

Passeri Park

SCENE:

Calling Amestria

TIME:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 4th, 2022

LOCATION:

Not-So-Abandoned Storefront, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Passeri, Dagger

Calling Amestria

"Not what I was hoping to hear..." But, alas, exactly what she'd expected. Slow and steady. Keep on truckin'. That was what the reasonable answer always was. She would've been frustrated, if she weren't already so tired. Whatever calories the human body would usually have reserved for feeling petty emotions, she'd instead spent on shoving around twenty kilograms of dirt.

"Don't fuss, though! I'm swell enough." Blurs? She wasn't even sure what that meant. It was another addition to the garden of the wolfish woman's euphemisms that she couldn't quite parse. "If slow and steady is the way, then we gotta keep steady, right? Just let me..." Her voice trailed off, and she started to shuffle her arms around another great, hulking piece of pottery. It was only when Elise tossed the water bottle in her direction, and she managed to fumble it halfway across the pavement, that she relented to the other woman's request.

"...Okay, maybe you've got a point." She stately dumbly, as she watched the water bottle tumble along the footpath. Her hand was wet with condensation, from when she'd slapped the thing out of the air, spreading a sense of glum resignation out from the watery chill. Five minutes wouldn't hurt, would it?

"Do you do that much? Play nurse? I can't really picture you in a white dress with one of those tiny hats." Idle chatter leaked out of Passeri's mouth as she retrieved the bottle. "Or is that just, like, a stereotype? The last time I visited the hospital, it was all blue and green scrubs."

Passeri took a seat as she plucked the bottle from the ground, resting atop the railing that separated the storefront's veranda from the adjacent footpath. The water felt warm and stale as it ran down her throat, but in the light of the sun's relentless heat, it was refreshing nonetheless. She took a few pert swigs, watching Elise as she carried another haul from the van, and briefly wondered what sort of workout she'd have to pick up to not feel like she was going to fall over whenever she needed to do heavy work like this.

"Mmm..." Passeri took a final sip, before setting the bottle aside. "Well, if you want to keep something under wraps, you need to wrap it up in something, right?" She left what it was that she was wrapping up unsaid. That night with the Webbers had told Elise all that she'd needed to know. "People coming and going out of an empty shop, that's weird. But if it's a quiet little shop, on the edge of town? That's just sad, instead."

Or at least, that was the idea.

"It's a bit less suspicious, I think! Or more like I hope." She sighed, and leaned deeper into her uncomfortable, metal perch. "It's my first time setting up an evil murder basement, actually, so I'm kind of winging it. It's not like I can go around the office asking for advice, right?" To the contrary, that was a good chance that she could've, if not for the fact that she was trying to keep this a secret from her fellow Tigers as much as she was from the press.

"But yeah, that's the idea. We set the place up, hire some unambitious part-timers, and then whenever something needs to be done all, like, covertly, there's a nice, dank basement to do it in." One where she didn't have to worry about either of their magnanimous monarchs poking their noses into.

"Thanks for giving me a hand, by the way! My list for this was pretty short, so if you were busy, I might've actually fallen over trying to do this all myself. I kind of doubt this is how Yumin likes to spend his afternoons, you know?" She couldn't even imagine that smarmy face of his busting a sweat, much less going within twenty meters of a pot full of dirt. "Speaking of, you didn't happen to grab a couple of, like, big, long boxes out of there, did you? Could you set them aside for me if you spot them? They're forrrr... Something else."

simj26

gxxberkit · Oct 1, 2023

YONG-YUT SOMSRI

SCENE:

H-Eye

TIME:

Post Arc-2

LOCATION:

Red West, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hector

H-Eye

She sighed. Despite wanting to, she decided not to fight him. She supposed he was never going to get it, but then, most people don’t.

She leaned her head against her hand. He continued on, and she only hummed in response. At least he was open to something.

She sat up as he made his way to the edge of the booth. Following his lead, she shrugged.

“Sure. I’ll come with you.”

They stepped out of the booth, though Yong-Yut moved to go towards the door. “I’ll meet you by the entrance.”

With a thumbs up, she walked away.

WhiskeyMarten

gxxberkit · Oct 1, 2023

YONG-YUT SOMSRI

SCENE:

Dress Code for Violence

TIME:

Evening, Post-Arc 2, April 2nd 2022

LOCATION:

Phoenix HQ, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, YY

Dress Code for Violence

His skepticism was met with confusion of equal measure. She was sure he should’ve known her potential, shouldn’t he? Her brows furrowed, and then softened as soon as the suit hit her arms. His rambling questions went on in the background whilst she looked over the damage closely.

It wasn’t until he asked about the cost that she looked back up.

“What? No. It’s free.” She tapped the garment. “I couldn’t possibly make you pay. The suit’s safety is payment enough.”

Her free hand wrapped around the end of her scarf. A large piece came off, without a sound nor a struggle, and sewed itself into the scars of the suit. Within moments, the garment was good as new— albeit, it wasn’t pure cashmere any more.

“I hope this is okay for you,” she said, handing back the suit. “I don’t very well have this kind of fabric on me. Merino wool, however, is more durable and much cooler than cashmere, so I believe it’s better for missions. Though, it is cheaper, so I hope it’s alright.”

Beann · Oct 1, 2023

KATYA EVENSEN

SCENE:

What the Cat Dragged In

LOCATION:

Eric's Apartment, Central District

PARTICIPANTS:

Eric, Katya, Siru

WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN

From the bathroom, Katya could hear the muffled conversation between Eric and Siru, prompting her to speed up her hair inspection. She turned the sink facet on, dampening her hands with some cold water before smoothing her hair over a few times. Once she was satisfied, she turned the water off and leaned over the counter to get a closer look at her own face. Katya blinked a couple of times, turning her head to the side one way, and then to the other, wondering if she had put too much mascara or blush. She considered her appearance and ultimately decided that it was too late to make any corrections. Stepping back from the sink, she looked herself once over, turning in the process to inspect her outfit before finally exiting the bathroom.

With soft footsteps, she made her appearance on the other side of the living room, smiling at the two men. “Siru!” She crossed the living room with hurried steps before wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. “I am delighted that you are here!” After a few moments, she pulled away and gestured to the shoe rack nearby. “If you do not mind taking your shoes off, I just cleaned the floors yesterday.” Katya nodded, recalling how excited she was about Siru’s anticipated visit that she spent all of yesterday tidying up the apartment — not to mention scolding Eric for leaving a plate in the sink but that was neither here nor there.

Katya glanced over at Eric, taking notice of the bottle of sake in his hands. “Oh? Did you bring us sake, Siru? How kind! That will definitely go with the dinner I prepared for us!” After waiting for her partner to remove his shoes, she would grab him by the hand and lead him further into their home. “Eric, if you could set the bottle on the table while I give Siru a short tour of our home?” Flashing a grateful smile at her cousin, she tugged on Siru’s hand to follow as she showed him around. “I hope there was not too much difficulty finding our apartment — Eric was worried that you were not going to show up!”

Beann · Oct 1, 2023

SAMIRA CALRISSIAN

SCENE:

I am (not) your Grandpa!

LOCATION:

Calrissian HQ, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Babarutthoth, Samira

I am (not) your Grandpa!

While waiting for the impersonator, Samira pushed herself away from her desk and stood up from her chair. She carefully pushed the chair back into place against the desk and began to straighten up her work area. Whoever this man was, she was going to make sure that all company-related material was out of sight. She neatly stacked a couple of physical reports before storing them in the bottom drawer of her desk. Just as she closed the drawer, she heard a knock at her office door. Samira straightened up slightly, “come in.”

The guard opened the door and walked in with Babar in tow. Samira’s eyes shifted from the guard to the unknown man. So this was the person making false claims? She lifted an eyebrow in concern and mild annoyance as she glanced over his general appearance. This man was definitely homeless, and quite possibly on drugs. Perhaps she should change her mind and have Liam throw him out. However, a part of her was still curious to hear what he had to say, as pointless as she knew his words would be.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk before glancing over at the guard. “You can leave us, thank you.” Hesitantly, Liam offered Samira a nod before turning and exiting the office, closing the door on his way out. Still standing, Samira continued to stare at Babar, trying to get a read on him. “You have some nerve impersonating a dead man. What is it that you want?”

Vorifengrous

miki · Oct 1, 2023

Hiachi Ito

SCENE:

Return To Sender

LOCATION:

Hotel Gaul, West District

DATE:

Post Arc 2 | Night

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park

Return To Sender

Hiachi, too focused on completing what she set out to achieve to really listen to Passeri, had already made her attempt at dragging the body towards its gravitational doom. She had him by the wrist and was already trying to move him, millimeter by millimeter. His skin clung to the floor, and the chloroform foam was spilling from his mouth in a trail.

She was dead set until a hand rested itself on her shoulder. As gentle as the touch had tried to be, the firmness with which she tried to ground her sent shivers over her body. Hiachi’s head turned to her side, finally prompting her to deter.

The second their eyes clicked, Hiachi tore her gaze away. Direct, up-close eye contact like that would naturally be uncomfortable. But the image burrowed itself in her mind. Passeri’s gaze, unwavering, and as its blinding fuchsia hue cast a faint glow on her. Her pupils shone like satellites, one blinding point of unwavering light that reached her despite the pollution. Contrasted against the black balaclava, it was… eerie. Unnatural. Cogent. Hiachi described it as she wanted to see it, rather than how she actually felt as her eyes settled familiarly on her own.

Then, she turned her head away and stared at the wall. She could feel her blood still shaking and her ears blasting white noise. Her brain was off; there were only two directions she could follow: her heart, or Passeri.

She loosened her grasp on the man’s wrist. Without her support, his arm collapsed limply on itself and hit the wooden floors with a thud. The sound resonated, echoed, and then faded. Hiachi cleared her throat in an attempt to reach a level of clarity that wasn’t there.

Move him to the bathtub, that was her new prerogative. She held him up from the legs, careful to tilt him to the side to avoid asphyxiating him. They dragged him, his back sliding across the floor, back to the bathroom. He was promptly dumped into the bathtub. His appearance lent to less of a dangerously coked aggressor, and more a blackout drunk teenager.

Hiachi knelt down and scooted the bottle of polish closer to him, before laying it against his motionless hand. A convincing enough setup for a tragic idiot, she hoped.

It was over, but it was not over to Hiachi. Her ardent desire to eliminate the threat entirely was so invasive that she couldn’t shake it. Molten coal swirled in her eyes. And then she doubled back on herself—a killer, her, really? Was she really so bloodthirsty that she wanted a man dead over alive and incapacitated? Hardly—that was not Hiachi Ito.

Her surroundings caught up with her. The musty debris and polish mixed into an ugly smell, the ghosts of the altercation floated around the air, and the image—the man she sought to kill—burned itself in her mind. His eyes were trying to roll back into his head. It was so much to deal with. And yet she choked her discomfort down into a lump in her throat. This was nothing, after all.

She just wanted to get out of there.

miki · Oct 1, 2023

Hiachi Ito

SCENE:

Art of the Deal

LOCATION:

West District, Czar Restaurant

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Ryutaro

Art of the Deal

She hadn’t liked how he poked fun at her obvious displeasure. Half because he was vying for something she considered her strength in situations such as these, and half because the good-humored nature wasn’t good at all—it couldn’t be. It was no surprise that she had promptly decided that no, she did not trust him, and she would not give him an ounce of her being that wasn’t required by debt.

He was mocking her. The only way he could get away with it was through his charisma and equally overbearing power over her.

She needed his mind. She needed to know the pretense of the whole interaction. She needed full, unflinching control of the situation. The man across from her was too poignant and mysterious. If she had intended on answering him truthfully, she would have added that poker was one of the only instances in which she had control over people like him.

But that was a fairly pathetic moot point. He likely already knew that, and there was no point in beating herself down some more.

“I…” her throat closed up at the thought of mentioning her full name. Even if he knew it, even if he didn’t, she didn’t want to attach herself to that name for both logical and irrational reasons. “Ahem. I am Hiachi. I gambled because I needed the money. It’s expensive to live here… because I live alone. And it was easy. And I didn’t feel bad about it.”

A sense of dreadful finality settled onto her. Maybe she shouldn’t have said her cursed name at all. Maybe she should have stuck with a simpler answer. Maybe she hated the artificial tone she paired with her bare truths.

What was certain was she felt nothing good about her answer. Hiachi never did have a good sense of what was too little information to give, and what was too much. She could only tell when it was too late.

joshuadim

Roda the Red · Oct 1, 2023

Keith Sullivan

CS Link

SCENE:

Meet and Grit

LOCATION:

The Third Eye, Central District

TIME:

Morning, July 8th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Peyton, Keith

Meet and Grit

Keith gritted his teeth as the vile scum teased him further, putting up a hypothetical shield to deflect the rain of arrows sent to his direction, but any shield could only cover so much, with some of Peyton's words landing directly, causing severe damage to Keith's tolerance and patience, which were already of a lacking amount to begin with. Oh the desire the dragon had to answer his demands, and to throw insults that would make a street rapper blush. But alas, he had already made up his mind, it really didn't matter how much the serpent prodded, Keith was going to endure until the end.

Then his body went stiff for a moment, the serpent's repulsive mouth uttering an eerily accurate accusation towards his person, not only that, but it was even far worse than originally expected. Peyton was not just your run-of-the-mill slithering bastard, no, he was a unforgivable traitor, who torn his own wings off to pathetically crawl the ground, with nothing but obscure intentions. The dragon's eye twitched as he turned to face the horrendous individual, his lips visibly trembling as his body shouted to pounce on him and deliver a rain of pain and suffering towards Peyton. However, as he had yet to properly utter a proper word thus far, it seemed like Peyton found it a good opportunity to accost him once more.

As a pure involuntary reaction, Keith arm moved on its own, slapping down the spoon with ice cream, and even the tub that was held on the other hand. The icecream hit the floor, with the tub losing some of its contents in the process. The dragon was absolutely livid, reaching fury overdrive as the metal claws itched to burst out of his fingertips once more. He panted heavily, his contracted pupils focusing on what was now seen as prey, his muscles tensed as his arm began the windup for a punch, he'd simply had eno-

"Dude! You dropped your rocky!" Said a raspy female voice from behind the pair. A woman of relatively short stature and even shorter hair leaned down, pinching the edge of the ice cream tub with her fingers before raising it to chest level. "Be careful, man! Stuff like this is worth gold in a hot day like this!" She moved the vessel forward, seemingly wanting for Keith to grab it. Almost immediately, the dragon had snapped out of his wrathful trance, instead being overwritten by his stranger danger senses. "S-Sure, sorry about that..." Out of mere impulse, Keith held onto the tub, still utterly confused by the woman's intrusion.

"Man, aren't you guys excited?! This is the FIRST time Mallick has ever come to New Oasis" Her eyes, big and sparkly, showed her absolute joy towards the event, without knowing how to respond propely, Keith simply nodded. "Apparently her agent's been trying to get her to do this for ages, but she was super reluctant to do it, y'know since this city is so infamous for its dangers". In response, the dragon felt legitimately surprised by the information. "R-Really? I had no idea" The woman, nodded with her eyes closed as a confident smile possessed her. "Yup yup, she's like, NOTORIOUSLY jumpy and skittish, they put lots of security on the inside" She crossed her arms, noticeably frustrated by her new pessimistic thoughts. "It would suck so much if one of those fucking gangsters showed up to cause trouble, the signing would end in a" instead of saying it, she snapped her fingers "If that was the case".

"Yeah yeah, that would be terrible. ahahaha..." Keith tried his best to remain composed, but it was visible how the woman's words made him go back completely on his bloodlust from seconds ago, and was now more nervous than ever about the frailty of the event. "Good thing those assholes are allergic to reading amirite AHAHAHAHA!" She playfully punched Keith's shoulder as she let out her jolly laughter. "Name's Veronica by the way"

"...K-Keith" Was all he could mutter, the dragon now on the brink of suffering another short-circuit, but this one of a very different nature. Nothing was more stress-inducing than nosey extroverts.

@Coyote Hart

thebigfella · Oct 1, 2023

Karne (NPC)

CS Link

SCENE:

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

LOCATION:

Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store

TIME:

July 6th, 2022 | | Post-Arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

Bushineko (NPC), Passeri

Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

Every heavy step only made his blood burn hotter. Every inch he got closer to gripping Passeri with his own hands, with every centimeter he approached being able to watch that life fade from the world with his own hands, he felt a growing tingle.

The electricity in his extremities was quickly interrupted by the searing pain of his flesh being hit by tiny little pinpricks. A glowing flash temporarily blinded him, and his sight only returned to the annoying view of shards within his flesh. It dug through his thick clothing to jab at his meat like a flashy cactus he had bumped into. It was nowhere near enough to do any damage, but it was a slight annoyance nonetheless.

Nonchalantly, a gloved hand reached up to pull one of the agitating mites from its place on his shoulder, crushing it between his thumb and index into sharps of sparkly little glitter. He watched it dissipate into nothing.

Just as more came his way, flying through the air and lodging themselves into his side. More annoying pests dug into his skin, setting his muscles on fire. He felt their trajectory but didn’t bother to look towards where they came from. Only to endure more stab into his back a few moments later, his other side not being spared from the onslaught.

Instead of reaction, Karne just stood there, his posture slouching as his head dipped, annoying, pestering, little thorns dug out from them as if he was some malformed porcupine. He didn’t bother to remove them as they sparkled.

If she kept tossing those tiny little things at them, they might have eventually poked deep enough to cut through an artery, stab deep enough to pierce through his heart. Instead, all they served was a brief distraction that didn’t keep him from tracking down Passeri but broke up his train of thought.

His brain worked, pulling away from mania to enter a realm of somber processing. The frenzied glint in his eyes until this point had dulled, bright neon green turning into a lifeless lime color. He stood there still for a moment, brewing, considering, understanding.

“...Fuck that.”

In defiance of considering any sort of countermeasure, refusal to play the dog in this cat and mouse game, he decided his own answer. Hands stretched out, fingers tensed, twitching as the muscles and ligaments convulsed.

The ground began to rumble; it shook and groaned like it was alive. Any part of the store untouched started to fall into disarray. Packs of candy slipped off the shelves and hit the ground. Glass cases containing freezer items shattered as the contents spilled out. Eggs splattered into the tiles as glass jars of milk smashed open.

Karne’s eyes went bloodshot, and his hands rose upwards as if strings had been attached to his fingers, his back twisted backward, concave in on itself as his neck strained, his jugular growing pronounced as he tugged upward.

And then, the ground rose, like the store floor was a giant elevator. Everything began to feel the force of momentum pushing it towards the ground. Cords were pulled out of their outlets, and wires were snapped in half, setting off the crackling of sparks as the lights turned off and the entire electricity system was dismantled.

Aisles slammed into the lights, shattering their glass into dust before the metal found itself against the solid roof. The creaking and bending metal echoed through the darkness as it pushed against the ceiling, crunching and compacting until the stone began to crack and chip.

The morning sun's light gave way in small streams that exploded into giant gaping holes as metal finally broke through solid stone, the pressure allowing everything to eventually rise to the surface. Scraps of rebar and concrete found themselves strewn about, destroyed foodstuff and shattered glass, aisles had toppled over onto each other, and bodies that were unfortunate enough to be caught in the way had been mashed into a paste of bone meal and viscera.

The floor had become the ceiling; the ceiling had become the sky. The bright morning sun basked everything in clarity, the destroyed skyline of Central, the rows of destroyed buildings and upturned foundations acting as the backdrop to the scene.

Karne breathed a sigh of relief, his body finally relaxing as he looked around at his handiwork, reaching a hand up to crack his neck. There was nowhere else for the skittish little kitten to scurry off to anymore, no other places to scrounge for scraps. It was right in front of him, waiting to be put down.

“Don’t you get it now? Your parlor tricks aren’t nothing compared to a real display of power.” Karne stated, waving around a finger in the air, “Pretty little things like you who think they can step off the stage and still think the show will go on.” He stated, taking his time to stroll over to the idol, placing one free hand into his pocket.

“Who the hell would want an encore from someone like you?” He asked, looking down at her with clear apprehension as he grew closer and closer. There would be no more running, no chance of escape. The only way out was the ground 100 feet down, right onto concrete.

That’s all it was, everywhere. Concrete, concrete, concrete.

Within this jungle, there was no denying it.

Karne was the king.

The sound of a sharpened blade slicing through flesh brought a flesh gout of blood. Karne’s eyes went wide, watching in slow motion as a tide of red flew past his eyes.

It was not Passeri’s. He hasn't touched her yet.

A hand reached up to touch his chest, a feeling of wetness. His hand raised up to his face to see his white gloves stained crimson. He looked down to see his clothing torn to shreds, tides of blood pouring from his fresh wound.

“What the…” Was all he could spit out as he gazed at the damage he had sustained. His head naturally snapped up to look at Passeri, expecting she had performed some trick. But, she was not the cause. There was nothing off about her.

So, why was he bleeding? Why was he feeling pain?

“You’re still lacking-zarunyan.”

Karne’s eyes moved downward, away from Passeri and towards his feet. Blue ears twitched as yellow eyes met his, a bright silver blade coated in blood held within his paws.

There stood Bushineko, standing valiantly with his blade at the ready.

“I won’t let you take another step-zaruyan!”

Karne could only look on in surprise, a surprise that quickly turned to anger as he reached up to clutch at the blade wound on his chest, “How the hell are you still alive!? My Con Men…they should have torn you to shreds!” He spat out through his muffled gas mask, his dilated pupils shaking within his eyes as he looked at the tiny samurai.

The cat didn’t honor him with an explanation, standing there silently as it changed its stance, raising its blade as it held it in both his paws, a defiant look in his eyes.

Karne only made eye contact with the Playmate for a pause before he could feel his frustration bubble over, his teeth gritted behind his gas mask, his hand clenching at his chest and scrunching up the shreds of bloodied fabric.

“You fucker! Getting in my way now of all times!?” He shouted in a furor, crazed eyes looking at them both, “Fine then! If you like her so much, you can go ahead and die together!”

Amid Karne’s threats, Bushineko didn’t respond, glancing back at Passeri with a worried gaze.

“Iroi-sama, can you move?”