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

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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Missy
Clad in Golden Dreams
It was all so much. First, there was the blubbering girl beneath the table, and then there was that scruffy-haired menace screaming in her ear. Both in front of Markus, of all people, and arguably even worse, both right where Elias had front-row seats to it all. She felt faint, almost, as the enormity of it all fell down upon her. This was a rare emotion that was blooming inside her. She wasn't just annoyed, or irritated, or even upset.

She was embarrassed.

"...Riigghhttt?" Was about all that she could squeeze out, under the pressure of Markus's puzzled gaze. Really, it was quite unreasonable of him to expect an answer out of her. What was she supposed to be? A herder for all of the Albino Tiger's wayward misfortunates?

...

Yes.

That was exactly what she was supposed be. Apparently. Tonight, she was a cowgirl; A lady-rancher with a chip on her shoulder. A chip in the shape of a lovely party that was about to come down crumbling around her. Her earrings jangled like spurs, driving a pack of tiger-striped, screaming cattle into a ranch named 'Anywhere but in front of the King'.

"Gosh, I-" It was hard for her to compose herself quickly enough. Markus was right there, staring holes into the side of her head, and she could definitely feel the wick burning short on some awful, imminent disaster.

Or maybe that was just the smell of Scruffy's farts.

"You know there's signs, right?" He would've barely had to read them. Big, black arrows. His and hers. There wasn't even a line. She wondered if those friends of his in the fan club had gotten to him. Maybe he just wanted her to hold his hand?

"You, ah... Big guy?" She gestured to the bald, bouncer-looking fellow clamping down on Scruffy's shoulder. "Could you help him out? He's a bit..." Stupid, and she was starting to wonder if he really couldn't read. "...Stressed-out and the moment. Not in his right mind. Would you do us a favor and show him to the bathroom?"

She gave Scruffy a smile full of daggers. If he argued about this- If he shit on her floor- one of them was going to be knocking on his front door tonight.

"And... Please." Now there was the case of Hiachi, sobbing beneath a tablecloth. Fat, acid tears rolled down her face, vicious things that were trying to strip away the girl's very presence. Were those really the same eyes that she'd seen murder in, those few months ago? It was hard to imagine that the girl breaking down in front of her right now was the same one that had almost thrown a man off of a 52nd-story balcony, but she supposed that she'd seen harsher dualities.

Like, Passeri Park, showing a homeless guy to the bathroom? It sounded like a University Comedy skit.

Unfunny.

"Hiachi...? What happened?" She inserted herself at Markus's table, beside Elias and opposite the King. "Come here. Markus isn't that scary, I swear." She joined Elias in attempting the coax the girl from her hiding hole, and dabbed away her tears with the back of her gauntlet.

She grasped the trembling pieces of her night, and slowly started to slide them back into place.

"Would you like a drink?" She was asking everybody, but especially Hiachi. This was Markus's table, she knew that. It might have been hers, once, around twenty minutes ago, but the moment he'd sat at it, it'd become his. And then here she was, consoling a girl at it, but what else was she supposed to do? Take her to the bathroom like she'd been asked?

No. Not a chance. The next time she turned her back, she was going to come back to a stick of dynamite and a mule, she could tell.

"Eli, Markus? You two drink, right? Let's share a round." Or not. Really, she was hoping that the two of them would just stand up and leave, but it wasn't like she could actually say that. She waved over a server, who approached only with the most reluctance in their gait that a human being could possibly muster. "Could I get a glass of champagne, please?"

She urged Hiachi a bit further out of her hiding hole.

"What about you? We've really got everything, and if we don't, I can have a runner pop down the street and pick it up for you." Maybe Missy. She'd seemed eager to get out of here. "Just come out, please? The seats are quite comfy, I promise."

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
TOWER OF POWER
TIME:
Evening, Pre-Arc 1, August 2nd 2021
LOCATION:
Maelstrom Tower, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Musai, Sable
TOWER OF POWER
The dark clouds high up in the sky would occasionally become dyed a bright purple for an instant as lightning danced within them. Strong gusts of wind ran through South District, whistling eerily as it ran through the more narrow streets. Dried leaves, sheets of paper and crushed cans among other types of lightweight trash would get swept away by the air currents.

CLANK

A lone can bumped against the deceptively solid leg of the passerby who walked through the sidewalk. Unbothered by the strong gust, his ocean-tinted mane, voluminous and obscenely long, flowed back wildly. Charlie sighed as he lamented having forgotten a proper hairband, as he might end up resembling a popular blue videogame mascot by tomorrow. With one last step, the boy remained in place, amber eyes slowly moving up until they made contact with the peak of the building in front of him. It was none other than Maelstrom tower, an infamous building of unknown purpose or ownership. It was home to no business to speak of, and sightings of people coming and going were but few and far between. However, Charlie was not here to perfrom an investigation and discover the truths about the enigmatic landmark. He was here for a mission, a cryptic request from a man he had no knowledge of on a personal level.



Calling in for talented warriors of the South in search of a challenge


Sitting at the top of Maelstrom Tower lies a heinous man I greatly resent. Bring him to me, dead or alive I do not care which. However, beware that many a talented fighter guard the floors of that place, but I hold no ill will against them, so please spare their lives. I promise that your efforts shall be rewarded handsomely should you accomplish this ordeal.


Best Wishes, W.L.

Ever since the inception of his new life as a Scarlet Phoenix, Charlie had avoided one specific line of work amount the multiple opportunities the gang offered: Assassinations. Despite his desire to support the new family that accepted him with open arms, he still wasn't able to cross that final boundary of snuffing out someone else's life. Yet, when his trusty broker approached him with the offer of hunting down the elusive man atop the perilous tower, it felt like a calling of fate pulling him in, leaving him to its mercy. Another important factor was that one specific about the job: Dead or Alive; Had this mission being taken by nearly any other Phoenix, the answer to that branching path was simple, to walk where the soil was most painted with red. This was a good opportunity to, even if only by one head, reduce the blood spilled by the reigning criminals of South District.

He could only hope that whoever was also taking up on this alleged three-men task would be willing to accept his approach. For now, all he could do is was to stand in place and wait for their arrival.



Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters- Shugo Shugo
 
Deirest
SCENE:
Legacy Lost
TIME:
June 13th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Zhànzhēng, East District | Silverlit Grounds
PARTICIPANTS:
Hifumi, Deirest
Legacy Lost
Her throat went dry and shrill. A few stray wisps of spittle dangled from her lips, remnants of the last of her screams, but she had gone quiet. Before Hifumi was a sobbing, matted mess, just barely moulded into the shape of a person. She struggled once, then twice, to her feet, but slipped within the pool of her own vomit both times.

She reached up, her hand slick with bile, and pulled herself to her knees with the hem of Hifumi's shirt. She was not so deep in delirium that she needed help with the rest.

"Tea, tea..." She rolled the word around on her tongue. She leered over Hifumi, now, but her eyes were distant. Elsewhere. "You'veeee... Got it down to a T... Tea..." There it was again. That buzzing in the back of her skull.

Remember, remember...

What had she said?

Mmm...

"Go." She pushed the boy, lightly. Almost gently, but not quite. She wasn't there yet. Controlling her strength. "Follow. Teeaaa? Yes? It's hot. I'm cold. The tea, fairy. Take me there, fairy." She breathed down his neck, first from the front, and then down his back, all the way they went. Hot, dry breath. She didn't say a word, but she thought many.

There was the dust. Her nose itched. There was the moonlight. Her muscles tenseed. There was the sepia. Her brain buzzed.

He smelled like all of them. Her tongue tingled.

 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 | July 6th, 2022
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Bushineko
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
It was on and on with this one, but unlike most of New Oasis's madmen, behind his grating cackle and razor words the blonde had a point. She doubted that he was much aware of it, but that was what she'd been doing, wasn't it? Laying bait, laying traps, and laying in wait. It was no small wonder that things had gotten ahead of her. Perhaps it was this, the clarity of her near-death experience, that let her parse that.

She was out of time to sit around, waiting for things to come to fruition. Start digging into mouse holes? Maybe she would.

"Shit... Alright." But first, there was the task at hand. "Don't bend things too much... Instead of coming here for my... Shitty... Cereal... You wanted to... Do a good deed... Or something... The little guy is... Yours, right...? You were just... Looking out for him..."

Simple. That was the play. The more complicated you made things, the more these people dug. Convolution was like blood in the water, and the press were like sharks. Even if one reporter or channel didn't get to the bottom of this, inevitably, another would. She'd seen countless public figures drown in the spotlight just because they'd thought they were clever.

Above, the whirr of blades steadied. There, in the twilight where the Earth and Heavens met, a rotund figure lept from a carriage of iron. His shadow bloomed over Lala's head, and then his shoes, ragged from constant abuse, fell on top of her. If he were competing in a long jump competition, his landing would've scored a perfect ten.

"Quinten R.V. Ewe, Reporting!" Lagging slightly behind, a drone descended from the helicopter, the camera fixed firmly beneath. He stepped off of Lala as-if it were her manufactured purpose to be his doormat, and then motioned for the drone to fly into Passeri's face. "Miss Park. We haven't met. Quinten R.V. Ewe, Reporter for 9-News."

He offered her his hand. She stared at him like he was an idiot.

"Mmm." Only then, somehow, did he notice the glaze of blood and bile running up her arm. A shadow of deep understanding fell over his brow. Hurt, the fair lady was, but alas, he was no knight. The cause he fought for was truth, and it was often dyed in blood. Just... Not his. "Understandable. Now- I understand you must be in pain, but could you describe what happened her today, for the viewers at home?"

And then there was that idiot-stare, again.

"Some... Psycho... Showed up and... Started killing people..." It wasn't a lie. She just thought it was best to exclude the part where he was screaming at her, specifically, the whole time. "I tried to... Help, but..."

She made her best attempt to gesture to herself, but failed, as her arm went limp.

"After that... He showed up and... Got the drop on the guy..." Her arm might've been useless, but her neck still worked well enough. She nodded at Pei. "Would be... Dead otherwise..."

Then, another cough. This time on purpose, though she hadn't been meaning for so much blood to come up with it.

"And who is he...?" Led by curiosity's thread, Quinten spun about. In a single stride, he slid to Pei's side, carrying with him an aura of great dignity and grace. A hero, was he? Then, the two of them had something in common. Passeri's words of mass murder and slaughtered civilians flew out of his head. As he approached Pei, he did it as a brother in arms, a fellow savior of men, and snapped for the drone to please, keep up.

"Good day, Sir! Quinten R.V. Ewe, Reporter for 9-News! Could you spare a moment?" Yes. Of course, he'd say yes. He didn't even need to hear it. Heroes simply understood one another, like that. "Sources have informed me that you're responsible to rescuing Miss Park, here. Could you share a comment about the events today with us, for the viewers at home?"

He smiled into the camera, and adjusted his pose. The drone wobbled. His good side, dammit, his good side. It was so hard to find good help, these days. He couldn't wait until the tech to pilot these things with A.I. went public.

Up above, the drone pilot wrestled with the controller in one hand, and a phone in the other, desperately calling for an emergency helicopter.

 
SABLE MELLIVORA
SCENE:
Evening, Pre-Arc 1, August 2nd 2021
LOCATION:
Maelstrom Tower, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Musai, Sable
TOWER OF POWER
What a way to kick things off...

Sable hadn't worked with the Phoenixes for that long but he had been around enough to recognize some of his peers, as well as most of the seniors by name; all of which were people he'd fight tooth and nail for no matter the circumstances. That was the least he could do after all, right? Badger walked with a stride befitting a man of his position, and any bystanders moving in the opposite direction went very much out of their way to avoid bumping shoulders with him as his polished dress shoes clicked against the pavement's surface. Torrents of wind whipped through the air, causing the tails of his dark trench coat to kick up wildly. The air carried the faintest smell of dew, laced with the usual aromas of The Southern District's filth & debris. Despite his collected composure, Sable's body felt dozens of jittery surges coursing up and down his spine as if he were overloaded with energy. Job's were jobs, but this one in particular genuinely provided an opportunity that newbies rarely came across; A challenge.

Charlie would have heard Sable's approach from behind, signaled with the iconic flick & click of a lighter being used. Badger took in just enough a breath to stoke the smoldering embers at the end of his freshly lit cigarette, and gave Temperer a quick passive glance. It was a little strange to think that someone could possess such long hair without having to think about whether or not it would all get in the way, but it also made it incredibly easy to recognize his compatriot in any situation. Sable had done enough homework to know a little about the two he'd chosen to work with too, and Charles, like most of the other Phoenixes, beheld quite a few interesting rumors about him. Many claimed he was strong, despite the small stature, and some even joked that they'd mistaken him for a woman too.

Yeah, now that I see it in person, he does look a bit like a gal...Small too, but so long as he don't hit like he's small, that's all that matters.

Thoughts typically rolled out of Sable's mouth without a hitch or care for the opinions of others, but he held back this time for the sake of keeping things civil. Besides, he'd yet to meet the third member, and would have preferred that they all remained on somewhat good terms with one another so they could get back home in one piece. Instead, he chose to take in another drag of his smoke, to gather thought about what to really say to pass the time by waiting around. Pinching the stick of nicotine between his index finger & thumb, Sable gently blew the smoke from one corner of his mouth, causing the cloud to jut forth like a geyser.

"Temperer? Right? Th'name is Sable, but most of the folk call me Badger. I look forward to working with you," Sable's words were rough, as if rumbled forth from the throat of a beast, yet his vocal cords were also possessive of a kind of deep tone & steady calculative cool that were almost pleasant on the ears; an equal balance of nerve wracking, and reassuring at the same time. If not for his actual visible presence, one would have thought that he were a monster of some sort, but there he stood, as normal as anybody else was. Badger was also adorned in a dapper choice of uniform too, which certainly added to the air of silent menace radiating from his figure. Everything about this man gave the impression that he was here on business, and business alone, "Have you thought of a plan of action yet?"


Roda the Red Roda the Red Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters-
 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
Return To Sender
TIME:
Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Hotel Gaul, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi Ito, Passeri Park
Return To Sender
Sip. A mouthful of Professor Sodium. Ding! Their food was ready. Shuffle-shuffle. A pair of excited feet laid out two plastic trays, piled high with fresh-fried chicken fries, and then higher still with mustard, cheese, and grilled onions.

Chomp. A pert bite, and half of a sliver of fried chicken breast vanished between Passeri's lips. Grease and nostalgia spread across her palate, a delicious, if not a bit depressed cocktail of flavor. If she closed her eyes and dreamed hard enough, Passeri might just have been able to transport herself back twelve years, to the days she'd spent snacking like this with her friends.

She didn't do that though, because it would've been awfully rude.

Not that there was much of a conversation going. Hiachi's words were short, like a knife, and they'd sliced clean through her chatter, like she'd lined it up on a chopping board. Now, silence was an enemy that Passeri could vanquish, no matter how wide and yawning, but despite her airheaded babbling, she wasn't dense. Try as she might've to clear it, that darkness still loomed over Hiachi's head. Grim things swum in the girl's eyes, and Passeri was not blind to them.

Some day down the line, perhaps, they could chat about it, but not today. Today, there was ground that needed to be covered, and unbeknownst to the pop star, it was just the sort of business the Hiachi Ito dreaded the most.

Her assessment was done, and her stomach was full, so there was no time like the present.

"So... I'm going to have come clean, here." She set aside her meal, which she had still only eaten one nibble of. "Tonight's job isn't the only reason why I wanted to see you. If anything, it was really an excuse. Didn't have a clue that it would get so... Messy"

An in-and-out extraction, that was what it was supposed to be, but she doubted that the girl much cared to hear it.

"I'll stop beating around the bush. Your brother, Kenki? He works for me. Not in the... Well, you know. At my studio. As a producer." Her words rolled out like dice. She'd placed her bets, and now it was time to see if she'd be breaking the bank or going bust. "This was supposed to be a simple task, to see if I could trust you with that information. It wasn't, granted, but I'd like to think that I can."

She took another sip from her Diet Professor Sodium.

"I'll pay, of course. So long so you don't go telling him about... Well, you know." She threw back the last of that half chicken fry. "And I'd really like to help as much as possible with your debt situation. I can't exactly go paying it off myself without getting looks, but... How's work? I'm thinking fifty-thousand, for tonight, if that's fine with you."

 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
Carry On My Wayward Son
LOCATION:
Nighttime, Post-Arc 3, June 25th 2022
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Christina, Hector, Milo
CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON
Milo exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Tension made him uncomfortable. Still, he was relieved that things didn't escalate between Charlie and Hector, for now, anyway. Whatever bad blood boiled beneath the surface of their relationship would boil over, eventually. Milo couldn't decide at this current juncture whether or not he'd like to be in the same room as them when the pot boiled over.

"U-uh, right!" Milo acquiesced, trying to mask his delight at the prospect. Explore a museum of fine art by himself? With neither tourist nor Phoenix to hamper his unbridled excitement and awe? Yes, please!

Milo turned away a little too slowly, as if he had tamped down his eagerness too much and overcorrected somehow. He pointed his flashlight down the long corridor ahead of him, listening as Charlie, Hector, and Christina each took their designated wings. He shone his light up at the words inscribed on the arched entryway to the wing, Ancient Civilizations.

Making a mental note to check out the other three wings another time, Milo shouldered his satchel in one hand and brandished his torch in the other as he set off down the darkened hall.

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Searching for the Light
TIME:
Afternoon, Post-Arc 3, June 18th 2022
LOCATION:
Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hitoshi
Searching for the Light
Charlie's fingers slowly tapped against his kneecap as he took in the unsettling silenced, provoked by his confession. He had played out this scenario in his head several times, each time more horrified of how his senior, one of the very few people he would consider to be a genuinely decent human being within the ranks of the organization, would react to the news, would react to the news of the rookie's stained hands.

However, despite his worst expectations, Hitoshi replied with nothing but kindness and understanding. Charlie could feel tears building up from under his eyelids once more, he felt underserving of such reassuring, every morning he would see his own reflection on the bathroom's mirror, and stare in the face at a monster in the making, fingers turning into claws, and skin taking on the pattern of blood splatters, a fearsome beast smiling back from a different world, or perhaps, just a different time.

"You're right...I guess that's still what really matters, huh?" He wanted to believe in Hitoshi, to take his words to heart and steel himself with renewed confidence. But life wasn't that simple, in Charlie's eyes, Hitoshi had something that the rookie hadn't experienced in well over a decade: People that supported him with true, unconditional love.

"...Even though I tried my best...I failed to secure the target that Pharaoh commanded us to capture"

The Queen was the representation of Charlie's current life. A symbol that showcased why the Phoenixes accepted him, as a tool to serve for their own interests. "He tried to let it slide at first...But now, he won't let me forget that I made a mistake... I ..." There was so much more he wanted to admit, to confess who the target was, or that he let her go on purpose. "I really tried..."

Some things one must simply take to themselves to the grave.

"Say...Aniki...How are YOU doing? With the recovery and all"


@joshuadim
 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Clad In Golden Dreams
LOCATION:
West District
DATE:
June 16th, 2022 | Evening
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Tak, Elias, Jesper
Clad In Golden Dreams

God, this was pathetic.

The last thing she wanted was their pity. To be coddled like a baby. She lurched away from the velvet that wiped her tears. Everyone’s eyes were on her, all at once, before dissipating into their divorced conversations. Discussing her, or her adjacent.

Passeri offered her a drink. At first, water came to mind. She was feeling dehydrated. But then it was champagne and then something in Hiachi’s mind clicked.

It was hard to associate the haze of a drunken stupor with anything but. Cranberries and lime tasted like blood. Her blood; boiled beneath the surface of her cursed skin. His blood; his sacrifice for an undeserving pariah. The alcohol burned her nose, thick, halting her breath. That day; that night, the day of that night.

The shadows crawled across the floor beneath the table. It was those prints, like the ones she saw in faint crevices around her apartment. Or the convenience store, or that alleyway. It was stained with something, and she knew. Dark. Sticky. Wouldn’t come out; her landlord was sick of her greivances.

Just like that, she had forgotten why she had been crying at all. Whatever that had been was stupid. This was worse. This was worse.

Had Tak been able to see her from where he stood, he would have seen Hiachi glaring up in his direction. She looked at the bottom end of a tablecloth, but even so. All of this was his fault. He was the one stupid enough to put a poisonous centipede under a table. He was the one with the audacity to call her name in a crowd of people. He was the idiot talking with her brother like nothing was awry.

Hiachi froze. Speaking of the devil, where was he now?

She moved her head so she could see past Passeri. To her greatest horror, she caught a glimpse of it. The glint of his pretentious glasses from far off. Too far for him to see her, but clear enough for her to see him. Of course—this was a commotion. He’d want to see what it was. For a laugh, maybe. Imagine his surprise upon seeing his estranged sister reduced to a blubbering mess in front of the three of the most influential people in the West District.

The time was ticking. And now she looked worse. They didn’t know she refused to move because she couldn’t show her face, not because she didn’t want to. And they wouldn’t get it even if she told them. They wouldn’t get it—all but one.

Passeri. She had already cost her so much—drawing in a mass on herself that wasn’t supposed to be there. This was her gala, her everything, and so she paled as she lightly tapped on her arm.

“Miss Passeri. Miss Passeri,” Hiachi droned with despair, “I can’t be here. My brother’s here. He’ll see me. He’ll know.”

As awful as it was, she knew; her ass was on the line too. For Passeri’s sake and her own, Denzou could not see her.


 
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
The boy’s little victory pose was amusing, earning a little hum in return. She nodded, crossing her arms. “I always get the smoked turkey, no mayo, and regular potato chips with their ice cream. Their ice cream is great.” She walked on behind him, noting, “it’s nice they have so much variety in their menu. You wouldn’t expect to get a hoagie at the same place you’d get lasagna.”

As Charlie led the way out, Yong-Yut let the door fall closed behind them. Her arms fell behind her back, hands grasping one another, and her posture stiffened. She paced her steps to be in sync with Charlie’s, complete with an awkward stumble to get it right. There was something about walking in public that always called for proper presentation to Yong-Yut. Like if she messed up in her walk, someone somewhere would judge her for it.

Strange.

They went on in silence, silence that Yong-Yut didn’t really mind. She had nothing to talk about, and besides, she was rather focused on her jaunt.

Unfortunately, the silence was eventually broken by Charlie.

“Hm?” she tilted her head towards him. She took a moment to process what he had asked. “What?

… Oh. Oh, yeah, I was. You can just call her Lyric, you know. We’re not working. In fact, you're probably calling more attention to her status than you really need to be in public.”
Yong-Yut scratched her face. “We were just talking. It wasn’t anything special.”

Immediately, Yong-Yut went back to enjoying the quiet.



Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
YONG-YUT SOMSRI
SCENE:
Just Sweet Enough
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, YY
Just Sweet Enough
“That’s fair,” she shrugged. But, at the same time, a haircut was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing had changed, really…

“Oh, please, for the love of all that is good, never go back to your rookie years,” she protested. “For everyone’s sake.”

Her gaze followed his out the window, and with it came a thoughtful hum. She tapped on the table. The silence lasted longer than it needed to.

“I don’t know yet... I just know that I want to change. Everything’s moving so much faster than me… I don’t want to be left behind.

Vulken keeps talking about how old he feels… and I can’t help but wonder what that means for me, as I get older, as time moves on, and I’m still where I was 10 years ago, but with shorter hair.”





WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
Reminiscence Dedai
SCENE:
What the Dirt Remembers
LOCATION:
East, Heiwana Sasayaki Summer Camp (Abandoned)
TIME:
May 20, 2022 | 9:57 PM
PARTICIPANTS:
Rem, Hiachi
What the Dirt Remembers
Rem’s eyes focused on Hiachi.

There was something about her mannerisms, the way she acted, that made Rem feel… bad.

Everyone was just an amalgamation of people they knew. Maybe that was why she could see herself in Hiachi. But that, really, wasn’t the issue.

Hiachi… looked like a lost puppy.

Yes, that was it.

A sad, lost, sopping wet puppy, with big puppy eyes and no owner. Curled up in a little, sad ball. Almost how she’d remembered, but she was much cleaner back then, and much less drenched in water. Rem squinted.

She was lost, too.

At least, found people don’t usually wake up in the middle of the forest with an empty bottle of alcohol and a sense of longing.

Were there multiple ways to be lost?

Maybe Hiachi’s self lost her, but Rem lost herself. Maybe Hiachi was left behind, and Rem walked away. Nonetheless, they were in similar situations: they were both here of all places, anyway.

Rem tilted her head down as the girl avoided her gaze. She leaned forward, as though trying to keep eye contact. She was told that was important, just as she was told smiling was important.

Hiachi spoke, and Rem smiled.

She smiled through the silence, and even through the stupid question. She chuckled.

“Of course I remember. I remember the exact day we met.” She looked up with a thoughtful expression. “We were on a hike. I’d counted 2612 rocks until I realized you had disappeared. I went off to find you, and when I did, you expressed that you didn’t want to go back. We wandered around in circles until the daughter of the owner of the property the camp had settled on found us, and then we got lost on our way back to the camp because she didn’t know where it was. Eventually, I led us to the campers leading a search party for us, we said goodbye to the girl, and then got chastised for disappearing. The rest of our time there was uneventful, but you ended up as the only kid I cared to talk to.”

Her gaze returned to Hiachi. “I don’t suppose you remember all that, do you? That’s okay. You remembered the feeling, and that’s what matters.”



miki miki
 
Musai
SCENE:
TOWER OF POWER
LOCATION:
Maelstrom Tower, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
TOWER OF POWER

As Musai strolled through the windy streets of South District, his flip-flops slapping against the pavement, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, and the task at hand seemed like a perfect opportunity to test his skills and, of course, earn some profit.

The message from W.L. had reached him, and Musai saw it as a chance to prove his worth within the Scarlet Phoenixes. Dead or alive, it didn't matter to him; what mattered was the challenge and the potential gain. As he approached the meeting point, he noticed two figures already present. One, with long, flowing hair that could easily be mistaken for a girl, and the other, a man who exuded a sense of calculated coolness. Musai grinned, recognizing the opportunity for an interesting collaboration.

Musai approached the two men while holding a chocolate wafer between his molars as if it were a cigar. He sized up the newcomers with a quick, assessing glance. Musai gave a toothy grin, revealing a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, well. Looks like I ain't the only one who came to scrap for cash," he said, his voice rough and gruff, matching the atmosphere of the South District. "Name's Musai. Call me what you want, but don't call me late for a fight," he added, a playful tone underlying his words. "So," Musai take grabs the wafer and snaps half of it in his mouth and eat is "Who we fukken' up today?"


Roda the Red Roda the Red Shugo Shugo
 
Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
The Woodsman and The Duckling
LOCATION:
North District, Backstreets
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1 |
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol, Mimi
The Woodsman and The Duckling

The staff paid no heed to Mimi, the very human-sized golem made of dirt, or the bloodletting Sang-Cheol. They kept on moving down the halls, attending to their own roles and duties. There were a few guards who seemed alarmed but quickly minded their own business. Either way, Mimi and the Golem were left uninterrupted as they entered inside a clinic.

"Oh! Hello~" Rebecca said as she waved at the newcomers. Getting up from her seat, she adorned a white lab coat and sported nerdy glasses. Clearing her throat, she spoke up. "How can I help- Oh, hi, Sang-Cheol." Moving over towards the three, Rebecca ran up and poked the incapacitated scientist. "Yep, he's getting pretty stale. But, hey, at least he isn't a fresh corpse yet." A giggle escaped out of her mouth as she took Sang-Cheol from the golem.

Strapping the scientist down on the table, she addressed the unfamiliar girl in the room. "I didn't know Sang-Cheol had the guts to bring a girl home." With a tease, Rebecca rummaged through the drawers. "So what's your name miss? It's not like for Sang-Cheol to bring anybody to the lab. If he does, it is usually a dead corpse or something." Finally finding the object in need, a syringe filled with a strange liquid, Rebecca injected it into Sang-Cheol.

Not even seconds latter, Sang-Cheol let out a guttural scream. A substance that both froze his insides and melted them at the same time. It felt like his body was turning into goop and building back up again. An excruciating that he was all too familiar with, yet could not familiarize himself with.

"Oh silly me, I forgot. I'm Rebecca. I work here at the lab." Completely ignoring the pain of Sang-Cheol, Rebecca gave a warm smile to Mimi. "This is Lab Icarus, one of the major labs in the Sable Serpent territory; it's a pleasure to meet a potential customer."



 
Johann Richter
SCENE:
Money is Not the Only Prize
TIME:
Post-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Tiger's Den, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Johann
Money is Not the Only Prize
Enamored by his drink, Johann hadn't noticed Camila sit next to him until she spoke. His gaze shifted from his drink to the women, looking her up and down. She had an average face and body, nothing to write home about. He was already disinterested, not because he wasn't attracted to her but because he didn't want to be there to begin with. It was Vissa's idea to be down here and Johann found it hard to say no to him. He was almost tempted to chug his drink down and make haste, but humoring the woman for a few moments was at least polite.

"I try and stay away from this place. I usually have no need to be here, but some business dragged me here." He took a sip from his drink, setting down the glass on the counter. After taking a look at his watch, he was reminded that he was here longer than he needed to be. He fought off the urge to make a loud sigh, stuffing his drink in his face to prevent himself from doing so. He had no clue who the woman sitting next to him was. It didn't help that he wasn't tremendously involved in the organization. The only people he knew were the business partners that Vissa operated with. Everybody else was basically a stranger to him.

After giving his chin a scratch, he decided to present a question to Camila. "Who are you?" The only thing that was circulating in his mind at the moment. Many people were forgettable and this person sitting next to him would certainly make the list. Some people were born forgettable, you couldn't blame them. Most people would live their lives being forgettable. The only people that mattered were those that stood out. Maybe she would turn out to be someone unforgettable, there was too much uncertainties to know.
 
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?
LOCATION:
Central District, Grubtopia Grocery Store
TIME:
July 6th, 2022 || Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Zentsupa Pei, Passeri Park
Why Do House Cats Sharpen Their Claws?

Pei gave no confirmation to Passeri’s demands, only his ever-prominent grin broadening as he watched a silhouette fall from the skies above.

Watching from a distance, Lala, worried for Passeri’s well-being, noticed as a giant eclipse dawned over her, the celestial body blocking out the sun. Her eyes looked up to see what it was before they bulged out of her skull like giant balloons as stray threads of her pink hair came out as frizz; before she could even scream, she was left squished underneath dirtied shoes. When the newscaster finally moved, she was flat as a piece of paper, her wings disjointed and broken, like a squashed fly, her body covered in dirt and bruises as she twitched, her syringe lying at her side.

A light chuckle left underneath Pei’s breath, looking at the fairy in her state, “Kekekekek. Maybe she’ll finally learn to start worrying more about herself,” Pei whispered before turning his focus towards the portly man trying to get the story from the deflated star; he at least had the courtesy to not barge in as the woman told her side of the story.

But, as soon as she motioned the attention to her, a glint flared in his eyes, a dark shadow over his eyes cast by his bangs as his sharpened fangs barely held back a devious cackle.

As the camera finally pointed to him, and he was set to tell the stage what happened, Pei didn’t hesitate to reach behind his back, and seemingly out of nowhere, as if he had a magical pouch within his possession, he held two giant guns within his grip, the automatic rifles primed and ready as he pulled the trigger.

The muzzles flashed in succession, casings falling onto the ground as the gun visibly steamed from the heat of bullets fired into the air. The mad devil cackled maniacally as he shot off bullets into the air for seemingly no reason, finding some immediate satisfaction for causing a scene. "I couldn’t just sit back while some fuckhead decided to tear the whole thing apart!”

He shouted his explanation loud enough to be heard over the hail of bullets before he abruptly stopped, looking towards the crimson bat-creature on his shoulder as he tossed his guns onto the ground without a care, as they loudly clattered.

“Oi, Kiys! Go and grab that dumbass!” He ordered, quickly receiving a winged salute from his right-hand Playmate, "Roger! Kikiki!" It replied, as it dashed into the air. It only took a moment for the bat to return, holding Bushineko by his tails, visibly struggling to carry his weight as he sweated and puffed.

The tiny cat had visible smell lines wafting off him, bits of trash hugging his fur, and stains stuck onto his armor. As Kiys dropped him, the cat warrior landed with a thud before climbing back up to his feet as Kiys took its place rightfully back on Pei’s shoulder.

Pei roughly grabbed the drone, pointing it down at the once dignified warrior, who now looked nothing like a dressed-up stray, his eyes devoid of the energy he had before as the loss of cereal and subsequent trash dive had drained his spirit. He looked lifelessly forward as Pei knelt down to put himself in the shot, as well as if he was taking a selfie for the news, reaching a hand over to pat the cat on the head. “I just came to help this pain in the ass! He’s a big fuckin’ fan of the bitch! I just was doing a good deed! KEKEKEKEKEK!”

Bushinkeo’s mouth opened, coughing and hacking, just for an open tin can to come out of his mouth, clattering against the ground. Pei ignored it, though, still keeping the drone in his grip as he rose to stand straight.

“Forget about that, though! I got something much more interesting!” His obnoxious laugh continued as he stuck a hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumbled photo and slamming it onto the drone camera.

Filmed to everyone at home, live on camera, was a little girl with blonde hair enjoying a hefty meal from WcDonalds, 9 Big Wac wrappers in front of her on the table, the 10th burger currently in her hands, as empty cartons of fries were scattered across the table as well. She glared into the camera with a bombastic side eye, clearly caught off guard.

“KEKEKEKEKEK! This is my little cousin! If you see her, tell her to come home! Don’t be afraid to call the police to pick her up! KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK!”

Pei continued to laugh as he finally let the drone go, giving it a slight shove away from him as he stuck his hands back into his pockets, turning to look at Quinten with an uncaring grin, clearly not feeling any regret for the scene he had caused on live television.

“Anything else you need explaining, fatso!?”





The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Clad in Golden Dreams
LOCATION:
West District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
PARTCIPANTS:
Passeri, Ezra, Viss, Mark, Jess, Hiachi, Tak, Elias, Jesper
Clad in Golden Dreams

A hand against his shoulder, gruff and demanding. A stereotypical warning that Tak was all too used to, whether it be from a bouncer or any other brute off the street. In any different scenario, he would have met the baldy with a sharp glare, a command to tell him to pull his hand off before rearranging his fingers, or something like that.

But instead, all the thoughts and focus in his brain went to clenching his ass cheeks and tightening his sphincter as the dam threatened to burst. His teeth grit together as sweat poured down his face, shadows of despair across his expression as his lips puffed out like a fish, his brows twitching as they clenched together.

He couldn’t think of anything; he barely recognized words in his current state. He stood there until a keyword lit off his brain’s neurons again, stirring them out of slumber.

Signs.

He completely forgot about the concept. Signage. A modern innovation that allowed humans to traverse through modern society in peace. Signs warned you of danger, detailed procedures, signs told you where to go.

Tak’s eyes sunk into his skull as he shifted his neck; he looked past everything that separated him and the signs directed towards the restroom, architecture he had never paid attention to now held all his interest in the world.

He didn’t care about anything else; the damning stares from Passeri and Hiachi stabbed into his back and then flicked off like he was made of stone, his fingers twitched, and his pupils shook within the whites of his eyes.

A click within his chest. Gears turned within the valves of his heart, pipes connected to the rest of his body, pumping energy throughout his veins. Cranks and shafts blurred as they moved up and down. Heat welled up within his diaphragm, spreading out to the ligaments.

And within the next second, he was gone. Only leaving a powerful gust of wind behind him. Everything that wasn’t bolted down was pushed by the sudden vacuum in the atmosphere, linens flying off tables, glasses clattering onto the floor, tables flipping upwards and landing on their side.

The enforcer was left with his hand now empty as his glasses flew up his face and landed right on his blonde head.

“OUTTA MY WAYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

His form blurred together as he traversed the ballroom in under a second. Gowns were lifted, and bowties spun like windmills as the fathomless specter bound across the floor, leaving behind a sonic boom in its wake.

One man, unfortunate enough to be in the way of the wild man’s sprint, didn’t have time to react before the mass of a full-grown bruiser slammed into his side, his glasses flying off his face as he was knocked right into the ground with a harsh thud.

Onlookers were left just looking with their eyes widened, jaws hung open at what happened, unable to muster a word.

The sound of a dorm slamming shut echoed over the sounds of the music for what was supposed to be a relaxed moment of a ballroom dance.

“HERE IT COMES!”

And the floodgates opened.
New_Project_16.png.gif



The sounds of cataclysm echoed throughout the entire room.


miki miki QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Slav Slav
 
ZANE RIDDLE
SCENE:
[PECKING ORDER]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
South District | DMV
PARTICIPANTS:
Zane, YY
PECKING ORDER
Didn’t know huh. That stanched his annoying glow all at once—just not for long.

“I’m not here to bother.” He hummed. “Not without reason.”

“I gave o’ Hector a little visit at his deathbed. He gave his consent to tag me back in, so I’ll be joining this little charade once again. This is just me paying my regards, and maybe offering some crumbs too.”

Zane’s eyes touched down on the paperwork, and then waggishly motioned her off.

Whether a courtesy or simply unwilling to share the attention, he was confident enough he would get the opportunity to finish his piece. It would either cost a few moments or a bit of a hassle in chasing her down. Either way, he would continue his thoughts without so much as vexation.

“With mama bird out of the picture, one-eye is gonna swoop in and steal the show.”

“That’s anything but rotten. However,”—his attention split—”I’m just not convinced the transition will go so smoothly.” A whistle accompanied his oscillating neck. “The nest is already fractured. Everyone has their own candidate, and your lil’ guardian angel is one of them.”

“A big one, I bet.”
NAVIGATE
 
Last edited:
ZANE RIDDLE
SCENE:
[DOUBLE TAKE]
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Shady's Motel | Phoenix HQ, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Zane
DOUBLE TAKE
Zane’s mouth jerked, but receded just as quick.

“You know the crew better than I do, so I’ll take you at your word.”

No matter how you sliced it, that was the truth. Zane may have had some contacts, even now, but it would never amount to the authenticity of feeling people out in person. That was something not even natural intuition or a guttural feeling could compensate for. He would have to accept that this kind of knowledge was out of his grasp. At least for now.

“This Boltius, is he worth his salt?” He questioned. “I got no trouble following your lead, but I can’t say I’ll be thrilled if some scamp tries to order me around. I’d prefer to test him myself, but it ain’t exactly prime time for that sort of method.”

“Situation’s too delicate for me to strike up more sparks with the Beckmans, I know that much.”
NAVIGATE
 
Last edited:
A HUNTER
SCENE:
Fell And Cruel Hounds
TIME:
Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Actaeon's Rest
PARTICIPANTS:
Dead Men
FELL AND CRUEL HOUNDS
There came a sound like a bird keening through the night air. It echoed like the gentle whistle of the wind.

A shot tore through the silence, like an arc of angry red lightning through the sky, only to be returned with another, like a dull whisper of death.

From the smoldering aftermath of the first shot's impact, a darkened figure emerged out of the dissipating smoke, its hood tattered, edges singed from the near-miss of the laser fired from a neighboring high-rise. It looked less human, now that it was active, now that it was moving. Its mask, if it even was a mask, glowed like the cold heart of a winter star, as soft, snowy plumage ruffled along its neck and shoulders.

The figure's eyes gleamed in the darkness, concentric circles of light rotating and contracting in synchronized precision. As the entity caught sight of its prey, tiny gears within its eyes whirred softly, and the luminous rings rotated, narrowing their circumference, making a myriad of minute adjustments.

Its gaze intensified, honing in with laser-like focus, calibrating in real-time, every micro-adjustment ensuring that the target was kept sharply in its sights.

The barrel of his rifle smoldered as he chambered another round.

"Davayte okhotit'sya," a metallic voice whispered.

The sniper trained his sights on his opponent once more, in case his target had survived his first retaliatory strike, as from out of the sky descended a whirring mechanical owl, steel talons and beak outstretched, slashing and snapping at the Eyes of God.

 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
TIME:
July 10th, 2022 | Post-Arc 3
LOCATION:
The Maw’s Warehouse, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Lenras, Passeri
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
Who held a dinner date in a warehouse?

There were dozens of questions that she had for The Maw, but that was the one that stuck out the most sorely in her mind. She knew little of the chimeric Tiger. Try as Passeri might've to keep informed regarding the machinations of the gang's countless cogs, there was only so much that she could do about the recluses, and that went double for one as Veteraned as Lenras Motesfront.

"I suppose this is it..." Passeri spoke to herself as she inspected the tall, anonymous-looking warehouse in front of her. A car idled at her back, where her driver listlessly thumbed at his phone. Only a week ago, she would've dismissed him to do with the time between her drop-off and pick-up as he wished, but the incident at Grubtopia had planted fresh seeds of caution in her heart. Really, she hadn't even wanted to come here, but the few things that Passeri had heard about the enigmatic elder Tiger had made this into an opportunity she couldn't miss.

"Hi there!" She buried the jitters of anxiety deep, and approached the doorman casually. "I've got an appointment here, I believe? With Mister Motesfront?"

"Ah, yes." The guard gave her a once-over. Dressed up like she was, the woman stuck out like a sore thumb, this far out into the East's industrial sector. He, too, recognized the face affixed to the expensive dress, and he wondered what exactly it was the Motesfront wanted with some airheaded celebrity like this.

"Head on through. His assistant will help you find the right place." He answered plainly, and unlocked the door without embellishment. It wasn't his job to ask questions.

"Right! Thanks!" She felt the atmosphere shift as she stepped into the warehouse. The evening sky vanished behind a canopy of metal and lines of, to her eyes, alien-looking equipment now surrounded her. Her eyes passed from one thing to the next, parsing them with equal parts curiosity and confusion.

It was common for her to not fully understand the workings of the other Tigers. They were a gang of businessmen, after all, and that was a class of criminal as wide and vast as the ocean, but at the very least, she'd typically felt as she could come to gain some grasp of their professions. No matter what you were selling, a storefront was still a storefront, and regardless of who you punched, a merc was still a merc.

But men of science were rare, especially those of The Maw's purported caliber. Chequing accounts and stock sheets, she'd become familiar with, but stethoscopes and x-rays? They may as well have come from another planet.

"Helloooo?" She called, a hint of perplexment in her voice, into the warehouse's expanse. "I'm here for dinner! Anybody home?"

 
Keith Sullivan
CS Link
SCENE:
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
LOCATION:
Azure Dragon HQ, East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, June 17th 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Takakazu, Kisara, Keith
Shifting Around The Side View Mirror Is Good Until You See Your Own Reflection
"T-That's not what I'm trying to do!" He turned to watch the distant girl, an involuntarily snarl erupting from his frown before looking at the man once more "You're getting it all wrong! What girlfriend?! She's just-!" It was no good. The man proved to be unbelievably thick-headed, ignoring Keith’s explanation. "I don't have an insurance! You need to leave now it's dangerous!" He placed his hands on his head, claws applying enough pressure due to the stress to almost break his skin.

Returning his gaze at the serpent, the dragon felt shivers down his spine as a lilac luminescence erupted from her. It took no seasoned veteran to deduce he was in the face of a powerful incoming attack. His instinct shouted at him to move out of the way, lest he got caught in the blast.

But that damn civilian...he was utterly clueless about the situation, and now found himself in grave danger. Few things hurt Keith more than the memory of his family being taken by the Sable Serpents, innocent people who became victims of their indiscriminate cruelty. Should he do nothing, history might repeat once again.

"LOOK OUT!" Prioritizing the man's safety over his own, the rookie threw his hands to the side, shoving him to safety, away from the violet beam's trajectory. Fortunately for Keith, the civilian turned out to be extraordinarily light, moving him being so effortless, as if he wasn't there to begin with.


...wait a minute


Keith looked at the seemingly empty space beside him, blinking twice with a neutral expression as he stared, clueless.

"Huh-"

The stream of energy connected with the boy, lifting him off his feet and bringing him along with its current. He was able to react to the attack just quickly enough to guard with his arms, the freakish limbs taking the brunt of the attack. Once it finally died down, Keith lied down on the ground, several light burns and bruises over his body. Slowly, he made his way up to one knee on the ground. Eyes full of rage, he made his way back in his feet, his arms hung limply, going up and down from his bated breath,the murderous metal protrusions attached to them glowed red-hot from all the heat they absorbed during the impact.

"Don't think...I'm going down just yet!"

He noticed the civilian, alive an well, a sight that brought Keith a sense of peace and relief, he raised his arm to the side, a single claw pointing to one of the other streets. "Leave now! Don't you worry, I'll deal with the monster" He uttered with confidence, sure that now the man must have realized the severity of the situation and the danger he found himself in, only a blind man or a hopeless moron would overlook such a dramatic display, after all.

@simj26 thebigfella thebigfella
 
YONG-YUT SOMSRI
SCENE:
Pecking Order
TIME:
Post Arc-3
LOCATION:
DMV, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
YY, Zane
Pecking Order
Ugh. He was still talking?

Her eyes rolled off to the side, but she kept listening anyway. The woman at the front desk was talking to someone already, and she’d rather not be in a line with the over-promoted dirt bucket sitting next to her.

“—Really?” She turned her head towards him, disbelief underpainting her expression. Hector… what an idiot. She didn’t have much reason to believe the claim, but she didn’t have much reason not to; it did sound like the kind of dumb decision the Queen would make.

More importantly, if it's true…

It was bad enough to be talking to Zane. Now she’d be associated with him.

Her arms crossed over each other, eyeing the receptionist across the room. “Unfortunately for them, Vulken isn’t interested. If you want to hear it from him, I can point you in his direction. Not so sure he would’ve forgiven you yet. Hector’s just going to have to figure it out.”




BluEndings BluEndings
 
Takahiro Sugita
SCENE:
Pre-Arc 1 || Dancing the Night Away
LOCATION:
North District, Ecstasy Nightclub
DATE:
August 17th, 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Takahiro, Raph ( Elenion Aura Elenion Aura )
Dancing the Night Away
Taka wished what unfolded would have surprised him. The sudden violence and the vice grip that Raph held over the man. This was a side of Raph that he was all too familiar with. There was something enchanting about his intensity, something that he admired and hated at the same time. He had come here for fun and to have a splendid time. While Raph was somebody he considered to be significantly intimate with, it was times like these that he wished for some common sense. If he had punched the guy and ended it there, he wouldn't have complained. Raph had to make a scene and make it rather embarrassing for him.

He could feel his face get red under the lights as all the eyes in the room were directed towards Raph and his rather violent shenanigans. His night was already ruined, even after all of his attempts to scrap it back together. Taka knew that things wouldn't always go his way. He wasn't egotistical enough to think that everything had to be perfect. All he wanted was a normal night and he couldn't even receive that. It was times like these where he felt like he was losing his sanity.

"That's enough Raph... put him down." Taka gripped Raph's shoulder, though he didn't do it in an endearing way. Taka's mood had visibly changed and his flustered face couldn't hide the look of disappointment. He strengthened his grip on his partner, his nails digging in like a pair of knives. "Don't make a scene. I'll shock you and this idiot if you continue. Let's try and spend our night somewhere else." Taka tried to regain his composure, his cheeks lightening a few shades as he tried to ignore the eyes that were piercing into his soul. He didn't really know what to do, but he wasn't going to stand there and allow Raph to make a fool out of them both.
 
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
"A-Ah! You're right! I'll make sure to not make the same mistake again" Charlie reacted, first by throwing his shoulders back, a dumbfounded look on his face, but quickly regained his composure, crossing his arms and nodding bluntly. It might've been easier for someone such as Yong-Yut, with a long history of friendship with the king, to refer to her in such a casual way. But for a nobody and a rookie, especially one with at the very least a basic grasp on respect or manners (An unfortunate rarity among the fiery meatheads making up the bulk of the Phoenixes), it was outstandingly difficult for him to refer to leadership all buddy-buddy. Only possible example might be the Queen, Hector, but Charlie was able to build a mutual rapport with the man when he was just the ace.

Now, there was silence once again, the sound of footsteps taking center stage as the main source of noise nearby. Yong-Yut's reply was short and dry, a smooth and slippery wall with no imperfections to grab a hold on, sliding the rookie back to the silent ground. Charlie could not stand it, he felt a certain tension in the air, one of his own making and inability to keep a steady flow of conversation with his mild-mannered, albeit reserved, senior.

It was imperative, nay, ESSENTIAL for Charlie to find a new topic of conversation, one that would be able to entangle her into a steady rythm of exchanges, lest she became annoyed or bored of the uninteresting company he provided.

Praise her on the suit again? hm, might come across as too much of a bootlicker, what if she ends up thinking he was trying to get on her good side for future interests?

Ask her about her sensitivity towards touch? NO, what if he made her cry?!

...The weather? Oh come on now.

"So uh....You know those...uhh" He scrambled through the innermost files of his brain's folders, trying to come up with an entertaining topic of conversation. But it is always in moments of distress when one finds that the majority of drawers are inconveniently locked. He visibly struggled, his index fingertips connecting together, moving in synchrony and forming a wave pattern. It was then that a warm, orange light bathed his cheeks, causing him to face the building it emanated from.

"Ah, we're here!"

Now allowed to skip his awkward attempts to converse, he eagerly skipped over the entrance of Cuisinaire's, opening the door for Yong-Yut to head inside first. The pair was met with the cheerful sounds of many families and friend groups chatting over their dinners. It was the kind of atmosphere that would make most people a bit too self-conscious were they to arrive by themselves.

"So! Where would you like to sit?"


gxxberkit gxxberkit
 

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