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

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SCENE:
Swamp Fishing
LOCATION:
Royal Clairmore, Remote River Banks.
TIME:
I forgor 💀
PARTICIPANTS:
gxxberkit (Rem), WhiskeyMarten (Teddie), simj26 (Kisara), Coyote Hart (Peyton)
SWAMP FISHING

Tar had been waiting for a while. What else had they to do? They weren't sure what time they'd woke up, except that it was dark and hot. They had started the day with some stretches, leaving another layer of tarry residue on the seat of their jeep that they had slept in. Then they videocalled Eliza, their wife, discussing all manner of inappropriate activities they'd do when they were reunited once more. It was tough for Tar to be away from her and their daughter, but they always found ways to make it work.

And so, after wrapping things up with their partner, Tar parked haphazardly by the pier and decided to lay down outside. They sank into the grass, scorching whatever lived underneath them, their body melding with dirt and stones. The muggy heat did them no favours, but they kept enough composure to still appear human, if a bit more gooey than usual.

They remained in place, eyes looking straight at the sky until the crunch of the vehicle pulling up alerted them to Vance's presence, and they dragged themselves up, globs of tar melting and reforming. With a shake, they dislodged some of the stones that accumulated in their hair and stomped over to Vance.

"Barely been waiting, barely been waiting."

They smiled, but not to Vance. Instead, they seemed more focused on Burt, eyes wide with surprise like it was a puppy rather than a spider.

"Hello, thing. My daughter would like you. Things like you, like you~"

They gave a little wave.

”The others?”

They cocked a head at Vance in confusion, peering around like he may be hiding the other Serpents behind his back.

 
HECTOR MOSES
SCENE:
New Royals
LOCATION:
Kaspian's Club, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Tri
NEW ROYALS

Hector's girlfriends glanced at each other from their seats, their expressions awkward. They looked at each other's glasses, which were running dangerously low, and then they looked at the bottle of champagne. The bottle that was in Hector's hand, locked with his lips as the bubbly liquid flowed out, a good 20% dribbling down his chin. They weren't too afraid to ask their man for a top-up, but they would much rather just have a fresh, untainted bottle.

"Oh waiter~"

One of them waved a glass in a passing waiter's direction, and he turned sharply, hiding his fear as he nodded at the lady.

"Another bottle."

"Certainly."

Noticing Hector remove his mouth from the bottle and glance up at him, the waiter quickly fled in good timing as Hector picked up his unused champagne glass, chucking it where the waiter was a few seconds prior.

The breaking of glass prompted a few to look over, but a broken glass in a bar wasn't an odd sight, and people assumed it was an accident. Though it didn't hit his intended target, a few shards did fly at the feet of another who flinched away, before taking a few shaky steps towards the table.

"E-Excuse me…"

For a moment there was silence. The servant had gotten Hector's attention, maybe. His eyes were glassy, but he was frowning in the correct direction, wiping away the champagne from his chin as he waited, leaning forward. The women looked for any sort of escape, sensing what was about to happen.

"Could You, um, could you-"

"Could I what?"

Hector rose from his seat, sliding past his companions to face Tri's servant who stumbled on his words for a moment.

"Mybosswantsyoutostopdisruptingtheatmosphere."

Hector was quick, not to respond, but to grab the servant by the arms, pulling him up and flinging him towards Tri's table, where he landed with a crash in the centre. Hector followed up, rolling his sleeves up to prepare for a bar brawl when he realised who this guy's boss was. Stopping in his tracks at the table, he smiled deviously.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. And what are you doing in Central?"

 
DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Test Drive
LOCATION:
Copper's Bar, North District
TIME:
2019, Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Caio BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
TEST DRIVE

"Ach- Hey, I'm going, I'm going."

Darius stumbled as Caio pushed him along. His face was tomato red now, and he felt the heat of shame against his cheeks. Tears had been welling up, and started to fall down his face, fighting his attempts to suppress them as he marched to what could be his execution.

"Come on, I'm really sorry, I swear."

Darius blubbered, trembling as Caio's arms reached to either side of him, letting himself be boxed in. He looked down at the floor, the only place Caio hadn't invaded his space.

"It was nothing… Just that I don't want anything to do with my potential. I don't want to hurt anyone."

He cowered away, expecting the worst.

 
LENRAS MOTESFONT
SCENE:
What's Left Of Love When It's Down To Atoms?
LOCATION:
The Maw’s Warehouse, East District
DATE:
July 10th, 2022 [Post-Arc 3]
PARTICIPANTS:
Lenras, Passeri
WHAT’S LEFT OF LOVE WHEN IT’S DOWN TO ATOMS?
Once it was scheduled, it had to all be planned. Cleaned! Perfected. That was the thing about being a people person, or the thing the owner of the warehouse intended to calculate. One of the two. Someone who doesn’t know you takes their first impressions from the things they first see, and if it’s not you, it’s where you call home. And in the case of Lenras, first impressions were something that he often had trouble with if his voice arrived second to his form. So, it all totaled in this: some of his clients might be a bit unhappy if they found out their storage had suddenly been transferred across the city to a completely different warehouse without their knowledge. They didn’t need to know that, of course! Besides, it was just… heist prevention for whatever valuables were inside.

Lenras didn’t usually do this sort of meeting. Not for the first discussion, at least. Tigers, those at a high rank, tend to want to keep their personal operations separate, or in tight knit circles of related work. At least office coworkers usually frequent the same building, know the faces of one, not just in the one or two meetings where everyone shows up regardless. It’s one of the reasons that his more tactical mind enjoyed his parties. They were an excuse to meet and greet, enjoy one another’s company in a relaxed and mostly safe environment. But this would (hopefully, at least) be the sort of interaction that would require a bit more confidentiality.

So, the cement floor was swept, any of the guards trusted to cause a commotion at either the sight of a celebrity or, for the more worryingly knowledgeable, a Jack were given a day of paid leave, some of the shipping containers were simply gone and others were pushed to the side, while some were brought closer to where she had been politely asked to enter through. A few items brought upstairs for the sole purpose of looking pretty, just as a cherry on top. It was a wonderful first look, in his opinion. It could be called imposing, but certainly not intentionally. Complex and with the residual white noise of fans to give the sound of progress. What sort of progress? Did that really matter?

Once Passeri had stepped in and the setting seeped in, set the tone for the chimera she had set out to meet, the door was closed behind her by the unenthused sentinel of the doorway. That poor sod had to contend with merely standing in place for the next few hours and attempting to limit the amount of awkward eye contacts between himself and the equally bored driver. At least the pay was good.

If she was paying too much attention, the amount of natural light in the warehouse seemed extremely controlled once the entrance was shut. The windows that remained had a tinted quality to the glass, and a good handful of them had been bricked up or curtained with sheet metal long ago. The main light came from the overhead rigging, a manner that might raise the comparison to familiar stage lights if they weren’t directed straight down, an effect that reduced potential shadows to barely claw their way under blocks of cargo not perfectly stacked on one another. Sadly, the set-up or the rest of the warehouse wouldn’t have too much time to be examined at the time being, as her calls out into the well lit abyss were answered.

”Miss Park. Please, follow me, Doctor Motesfont will be upstairs and with you shortly.”

The man who had walked into view at an easy pace was obviously not the Maw, even if he didn’t announce that in his second sentence, so this must be his assistant who is giving the star a polite bow. Wallet was wearing a fairly subdued suit and an unremarkable haircut for the occasion, standing blankly and professionally, albeit with the awkward look of a man who is accounting and over-correcting for a weight in his posture that isn’t present. He’s ready to turn and lead Passeri closer to the center of the warehouse the moment she acknowledges him.

”Do you have a preference on any additional beverages? Waters have already been prepared.”

 
Artemis Mac Naught
SCENE MUSIC:
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 5th 2022
LOCATION:
Argentium Stadium, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Vissa (@Slav)
ABCs of Sportsball

“A whirlwind of ingredients sure but like most of it boils down to fermented sugar. Rum, rum, rum”

She thought it did anyways. She couldn’t imagine there was much flavor coming from it but it wasn’t like she was the one barrelling it up and aging it. At least this place seemed to have some decent bartenders who knew their shit. She grabbed her own zombie taking a chug with a smirk. The taste was smooth and she felt a lot better about making her way though this than the strong flavored beer that had been offered before.

“They made it spot on. Better watch out or we’ll be the poor saps getting their purse strings loosened.”

She looked as people started to gather up around the stadium. It may have been too early but it seemed that people were always excited to get in even if they would do nothing but wait for ages. She’d been… well she hadnt been in one as a guest but she knew how these things went from her time on the staff side.

“They’re going to trample each other at this rate, and for what most of them probably don’t even have half decent seats and then they’re remember they want to go wrestle at the concession stands. Animals. The lot of them.”

She shifted closer to Vissa hoping to use him as a potential shield from the crowds. Sure they might have some really good spacious seats, but they still needed to make their way there in the first place. Then they could shout their hearts out as Missy attempted to figure out what a penalty kick was and why they were allowed to kick the opposition.

 
CAIO SANTANA COELHO
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
North District, Lab District
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Sang-Cheol (@Misuteeku) Caio
Guide to First Meetings

He looked up and down the halls as he was led around. The place was actually pretty well put together for a place that he’d heard had a few issues before in the past. Though it was curious he never really could hear what exactly the issues they had were. Though he wondered how exactly they had the most manpower when he was pretty sure he saw quite a few people loitering around along the way in.

He looked up at the request to tilt his head and instinctively moved the way he was directed to as if his brother were calling out to him. Thank god he did too considering the bullet that traveled just past his face. He turned around to look at the one who’d been shot. He didn’t recognize them at all so it was really no skin off his back, though he did wonder what exactly they did to earn his tour guide's ire.

“Do you need-”

Well he was going to offer to clean up the corpse until the man started shouting. Worse the corpse started to shout back. What the hell did beyond the rainbow mean? Maybe this one had a potential that gave them extra durability but it seemed they were dumb as bricks. Shooting them in the head probably didnt really help with it at all either.

“Honestly you were saying how you outsourced manpower but I can kinda see why if this is what your average recruits can withstand. They do this often or should I be expecting a bullet to the head to be the standard greeting around here?”

Like he could get a gun if it was needed but he didn’t want to go around antagonizing those he was supposed to work with either if they were as good as he’d been told.

“I mean I ain’t much of a crack shot and I thought I was mainly here to cook ya’ know?”

 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE:
Post-Arc 3 [Rain on the Mountaintop]
LOCATION:
Borgo Orecchiette, Fusilli
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Jackson, Jesper, Pascal, Milo, Gav, Bolt
Rain on the Mountaintop

How do you even get to your bed is a question no one should ever need to ask. God he could just imagine it to, he’d seen enough weirdos starting with his everyday weirdo already at his side. Yet he didn’t want to be scaring this gal off nor did he really wanna open the can of worms that was the true depths of Jesper’s fanboyism. Instead, he opted to shrug as she spoke and ate what looked like some type of fancy sausage.

Rich people food had a certain quality to it that was for sure.

“You know its understandable that you’d work mostly with your own range. You’re a singer right? So long as you have an understanding on how to harmonize with your… band… backup? Then well it should all work out. Nothing worth a damn was done alone. Recognizing your teams strengths and building them up as well is another form of strength in my own opinion.”

It was almost entertaining to see Jesper so casually keep his foot so carefully placed in his mouth. He let out a snort as the other stumbled over his words and stabbed a piece of some egg tart thing and went to force him to eat some.

“Say ahhhhh, Jespieeeee”

Though the feel of the other dude clapping on his shoulder wasn’t so appreciated. He let the other answer Passeri first and almost regretted it when the answer was vigilantism. Dude you’re talking to a singer and you mention with full enthusiasm that you’re a thug?

“I work in the east.”

Wouldn’t probably help to say that he put out for money. Or that he paid to be on the other side. But he could at least explain a bit more about why he joined in the damn thing in the first place.

“I’m freelance so I work when I can. The obstacle course would have been a nice challenge if it wasn’t disrupted so quickly. The idea at least was pretty cool. I got stuck with one of the terrorists though which explains why they weren’t keen on working together. Though I betcha some others had similar issues for unrelated reasons.”

@Anne Boolean @The One Eyed Bandit Elenion Aura Elenion Aura The Regal Rper The Regal Rper @AriAriAbabwa @Doctor Llamabean

 
Artemis Mac Naught
SCENE MUSIC:
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | June 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Missy, Ezra, Passeri, Vissarion, Hiachi, Markus,
Jesper, Jessamine, Tak, Elias
Clad in Golden Dreams

Vissa may have said she should have been a guest but she knew that was only his being blinded by experience with these events. There was no way in hell she’d want to be here willingly. She heard someone shout from the other side of the room that they needed to take a shit and without thinking about it found herself nodding along as it was further proof she wanted nothing to do with this place at all.

“Actually Vissa I think I am quite comfortable being protected behind the veil of being staff. If I’m lucky then they’ll never notice me at all.”

She patted down the apron of her maid uniform as she looked left and right for the best escape to keep her ability to shift into the background. Unfortunately it was not her day as Vissa suggested that they dance. Okay, realistically she couldn’t dance. However, she didn’t necessarily object to the idea of dancing with Vissa. On the other hand she wanted to become one with the floor and hope absolutely no one perceived her until next wednesday.

She stared at the two almost in a picture perfect description of a human blue screen.

Ezra should know how to dance right? But she had the feeling suggesting they dance with each other might not go over well with either of the two. She brought up a hand to her chin covering her mouth in a sherlock pose.

“Umm. No. I don’t know how. Those types of dances are supposed to be all about following your partner’s lead though right? I guess if it came down to it I could probably go watch someone and try to figure it ou-”

She turned as she heard the wild man shout once more that it was coming. Was… was the dude not potty trained? That was an adult right.

“Do rich people usually have bladder issues? Does this happen often at these functions? Why would you guys ever want to attend these?”

@The One Eyed Bandit Lucem Lucem @Slav thebigfella thebigfella

 
CAIO SANTANA COELHO
SCENE Music:
LOCATION:
Copper's Bar, North District
TIME:
2019, Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius ( WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten ), Caio
TEST DRIVE

The dude was crying which just irritated him a lot. He’d done nothing for it. Hell HE was the one injured. His expression twisted into anger then disgust at the sight of the other. He’d seen people being ripped apart be more graceful that this idiot who sobbed about getting attention.

“What are you sorry for? More importantly what are you crying for? What did I hurt your feelings you little baby?”

He reduced the space between as he stepped up and straightened out his spine using his full height for once to intimidate the other into answering his questions. Sure he might be useful eventually but if he cried over every little thing like a bitch then he wouldn’t last long in the labs. Even if he wasn’t a direct test subject.

“You don’t want to hurt anyone? As a serpent? You touched in the head?”

Or maybe the thing thought he could sob his way out of the conversation. Well that wasn’t happening. He might have been a bit buzzed but he wasn’t a fucking idiot. Nor did he ever get mistaken for a bleeding heart. Fuck Brandy had bigger balls than this whip at like nine. It was almost an embarrassment watching him cower.

“Pansy ass shit. What you gonna lie down and die then? Or do you just wanna have someone tell you what you ought to be doin’? ‘Cause if you just wanna act like you’re a good person then I won’t object. You can be as ignorant as you want bitch.”

 
MARKUS WEISS
SCENE:
The Lion, The Witch, and The Cheque
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, June 26th
LOCATION:
Azwa Mariam, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Markus, Lorette
THE LION, THE WITCH, AND THE CHEQUE
Markus looked relaxed. He looked like he belonged there, arm draped along the tall back of his chair. The low bustle of the unfamiliar restaurant was of no consequence to him. He'd done it all before, anyway, in one life or the other. The scenery may have changed, but the facts remained the same.

One of Markus' admittedly precious positive qualities was his ability to appear unperturbed, at ease, even in the most dire of circumstances, truth be damned... There wasn't a scene, from the grandest state room to the lowest tenement house, where he couldn't walk and wasn't comfortable. He was comfortable with this world. And he knew it. He knew it and he liked it... That was the definition of power, or so he'd been told a long time ago.

The world reconstructed itself around him.

"Uh-huh..." He acknowledged her gratitude without accepting it. A King didn't need to be early. He didn't even need to be on-time. The business simply didn't begin until he arrived. That was what a fool believed. For all his shortcomings, Markus was no fool. He could read the writing on the wall, written in a hand not unfamiliar to his own. Only this time it was his throne they were eyeing.

Markus' eyes flitted along the length of his phone's screen as he idly scrolled through some PDF report of some incidental financial analysis that he'd asked a random room full junior pencil-necked accountants on the fortieth floor to crunch the numbers on, for no reason other than he'd needed something to peruse and appear engrossed in while he pointedly ignored the attempts of the woman seated across from him at small-talk. "... Uh-huh." He said again, with only slightly different intonation. Markus had yet to glance up at her from his phone since arriving.

Besides, he wasn't interested in talking about 'Lorette Lècuyer' with her, of all people. Unlike his plucky second-string replacement Jack, Markus knew exactly who was coming to dinner. Markus had first heard the name during his fledgling Rookie days, two whole Kings ago... He remembered admiring her, then. How things changed.

In any event, Markus knew who she was, and more importantly, what she represented: one of the last remaining holdouts from a dying regime, who was either too damn stubborn or too insane to know when to pack it in and fuck off to a beach far away from this shit-hole city until she finally kicked it for good.

The two of them came from two different generations of Tiger. They may as well have come from two different worlds. There was a reason Markus hadn't bothered with her in the past. There were several, actually, the least of which was this: back then he hadn't been in the market for partners. Even less, potential competitors.

It was already a damning enough indictment of his current position that he'd agreed to this meeting at all, but to be the one here first, waiting like some lackey for the main event to grace them all with her presence... It would've pissed him off if he'd let it, if he were more emotional, less logical by nature.

Just get on with it.

When Lorette arrived, Markus, at last, laid his phone down flat on the table, screen to cloth. He looked her in the eye, clocked her naked contempt for him in spite of the rigid display of faux-deference.

"Yeah."

'Good', Markus thought, even as he felt his lip threaten to curl into a sneer. At least no one was pretending to be friends. Almost no one.

Markus' gaze landed on Passeri at last, at least partly because he was intrigued to see what she'd say in response to Lorette's not-so-thinly veiled insinuation. In spite of himself, Markus could almost feel the ghost of a smirk coming on. Maybe they'd be able to find common ground, after all.

 
Ashley Hart
CS Link
SCENE:
Get(ting) Help
TIME:
Post Arc-3; 2 1/2 Weeks Later
LOCATION:
The Old Dojo, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ashley, Charlie, Gideon, Hector, Hitoshi, Kaede
GET(TING) HELP
Rather than dodge the incoming strike or raise his own weapon to deflect it, Ashley responded to Charlie's opening move in the way he approached most things in life. He met it head-on, allowing the wooden staff to meet its mark. And while his tolerance for pain may have been second to none, that didn't mean taking a hit from someone like Blue didn't smart.

The aftershocks of pain lingered, fueling the burning, pounding sensation along his chest. It overlapped with the rhythm of his quickening heartbeat as his blood and adrenaline flowed. Along with those familiar, addictive internal shocks, the other sign of his Potential became prominent as his teal eyes flickered with a dull flash of red.

The grin stretched across his face remained as he pointed the practice baton at Charlie, as if demanding more. "Since I can't exactly turn this off, how 'bout we make it even, huh? Kick it up a notch and show me how good you've gotten since last time, Blue."

Unlike Charlie and a vast majority of the other HPs he knew, he didn't have any control over his Potential whatsoever. It didn't sit right with him if he was going to be using his right from the jump and his partner wasn't, even if he didn't have any say in the matter. And if they were going to spar, he wanted Charlie to go all out from the start. That's when things were the most fun.


 




Dante | Overcast, In saline | Clemency Private Hospital




It was late, and later than he had preferred to make this meeting the moment he had heard.

Piecing together the details given his recent activity moving about Serpent and Dragon territory took time but hearing about Passeri's misfortune was as easy as hearing about the latest celebrity break up.

For the first time since they had met, he wasn't dressed up in the most flamboyant clothes, wasn't dolled up to look killer with eyeliner, a pinch of glitter or even jewelry, his hair, was slicked back from the recent downpour, and his form wasn't the green tough skinned orc he often met or fought on the field with.

When Dante stepped into that hospital room, he didn't walk in with the charisma of a Tiger, a money daddy of Oasis' Western side. He walked in with clicking boots, a sense of calmness on his face that melted the moment he saw the first bandaged limb into a neutral somber air as he studied Passeri's face.

The first thing he said after staring at her with distant eyes and a neutral somber expression, was: "You look awful." Since that was the nature of their usual conversation. Quips, here and there.

For her though, what he said contrasted what he felt. The foreign Tiger had always been hard to read emotionally. Even with her ability to pick up on it keenly, specifically in the form of love, he always had this sense of hot and cold, perfectly balanced

Right now though, she could feel the genuine concern radiating off him that he felt for her. He had said before he was interested in working together, and if she had done any research he knew he was good at keeping his tracks covered.

He wasn't here.

It said something in the moment.

"I'd ask what the hell happened to you but I've already caught the news of that misfortune, so I'll spare you the ribbing."

It was a pun, he was sure she caught it with her ears, more than she could her hands.

He didn't move closer to her, rather he kept his distance, finger tips pressed lightly together. "How long are you in here for, P? " Was the final thing he said, after seconds of silence.

The sincerity he was displaying here, could have choked a boa constrictor.



Mentions: n/a

Interactions: @The One Eyed Bandit

 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Pre-Arc 1 || Dancing the Night Away
TIME:
August 17th, 2021
LOCATION:
North District, Ecstasy Nightclub
PARTICIPANTS:
Takahiro, Raph
DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY
As Raph felt the almost-familiar sensation of nails digging into the coiled muscle of his shoulder, his smile faltered somewhat. Here comes the fun police, he thought wryly.

"Hmm..." Raph mulled it over, pinching his expression in a pantomime of thought as he stared up at the quickly purpling face of the man who'd asked for this. Honestly, he had no one to blame but himself. In a city teeming with superpowered criminals, you'd expect the average Joe Schmoe to think twice before heckling just anyone. But then again, where was the fun in that?

Raph squeezed hard enough to leave the indentation of his hand in the man's flesh, then he let go. "Oh, all right! You win. Spoilsport. ~" As Raph turned, hands finding the insides of his pockets, the man sputtered and hacked on the floor behind him. He spared Taka a rueful look, lower lip bulging in faux-remorse before brushing past him on his way towards the neon red exit sign, the crowd parting like the sea around him. The music had stopped.

Raph made it ten paces before he heard the whistling of a bottle just as it shattered against the back of his head.

A shower of glass rained down around him. Raph turned—the man was on his feet again; impressive—as a tendril of scarlet blood surged forth from a cut made along the meat of his palm. It slithered through the air like a python with a quickness, breaching the gap in mere moments. It caught the man, stunned by the sight and still groggy from the throttling he'd received, in the gut like an uppercut that drove him off his feet and pummeled him into the ceiling... Just as another man, or perhaps it was a woman, broke a second beer bottle over the back of his head from behind. From there, it was an all-out brawl.

The music may have stopped, but suddenly Raph felt like dancing.

 
SCENE:
New Royals
LOCATION:
Kaspian's Club, Central District
TIME:
Post Arc 2, about a month
PARTICIPANTS:
Hector, Tri
New Royals
Tri pretended not to pay attention to Hector's antic while wanting nothing more but to watch it in 4k glory with a surround system. He was a good bastard rich man; the trash behavior was so natural that he could ask for no better template to copy. Unfortunately, he was a master tonight. Tri took an elegant sip of his glass and savored the taste with slouched shoulders and a little smile; just the corner of his mouth raised as his gaze fell to the party afar.

It was hard. Tri wanted to see the trash man.

CRASH

The glass table broke under the weight of a servant. Too fast. Tri tried to grab the champagne bottle, but the sweaty glass slipped over his fingers and crashed into a pool foam. He frowned. Hidden masters weren't supposed to fail. The role was really hard.

For now, he sent a leisurely gaze toward the rich playboy. The show went on. One hand in his pocket, his legs crossed one over another, tension nowhere to be seen on the master that was on a vacation. Then, his masterpiece.

Tri sighed a sigh that held decades of experience. The sigh began with a short but audible inhalation and followed by a smooth cascading tone that plateaued into a sweet, smooth disappointment. The sigh of a master.

"Can't a man pay for a drink and enjoy a lovely night?" Tri drained his glass and the edge of his lips curled up- or it was supposed to. Instead Tri had a full-on crooked smile that looked nothing like a master's subtle smile. "Why don't you make a ruckus back home? Grasping desperately to the past is unsightly for a man so young."

And behold, the speech of a master. It was polite and elegant and unprovocative on the surface, but it told the Phoenix to go home because Central was no longer their territory. A masterful use of language only someone at the peak of the pyramid with decades of experience would use...!

Tri forgot he was talking to someone drunk.

WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten

 
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DARIUS KENNEDY
SCENE:
Test Drive
LOCATION:
Copper's Bar, North District
TIME:
2019, Pre-Arc 1
PARTICIPANTS:
Darius, Caio BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
TEST DRIVE

"S-Sorry," Fuck, Caio didn't like him apologizing, better apologize. "Sorry. I'm not crying." Darius sniffed and shook his tears away. He wasn't fooling anyone, but he tried to muster up some confidence for his own sake.

"I'm not… touched in the head. I just… All I do is deal drugs, I've never needed to hurt anyone."

Darius looked up at Caio — Oh man, he's tall — to try and gauge his reaction, but he seemed to be Pissed. Off.

Time to backtrack? Time to backtrack.

"But, it's not that I won't use my potential. It's just that it's not sustainable! That's it, that's all. I can't use it too much, that's just how it is. I don't want to lay down and die, boss, but what do you think I should do with this?"

 
MIRZA KARTAL
SCENE:
Of Moose And Murder
LOCATION:
East District, Not Far From the Eternal Night Palace
PARTICIPANTS:
Sebastian, Mirza
OF MOOSE AND MURDER
Things were just as they usually were. Mirza had a busy night of action at the Eternal Night Palace, but nothing that would make an exciting story. He was worn out, not that he'd let it show as he drifted so elegantly through the district, the fresh air much needed. His antlers shone under the moonlight, freshly formed. Things had gotten a little rough with one over-eager customer, well intended but ultimately asked to leave with a gentle warning to not return.

He did love his job, it kept his family in a great position, but he longed for nothing more than his bed. He'd have to be up early tomorrow for his workout, and some Dragon business. There wouldn't be a single complaint from him though.

It had been silent for a while, once he had walked away from the hustle and bustle of the pleasure district, through gardens and back alleys as he neared home. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him, not until they grew louder with the quickening of his pace. That's when Mirza turned around, not seeming alarmed at all, not even when he recognized the man before him.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

Mirza didn't seem upset, just concerned. He had heard stories of patrons following the brothel workers home after work, but it was mostly the more vulnerable - NPs, the weak, those who divulged too much. Security was tight for this reason, but he was as tough as any guard, so there must be a reason someone approached him.

"I'm not working right now."

If he wanted what he suspected he did, hopefully this would shut things down swiftly.

 
TEDDIE TUCKER
SCENE:
A Very Tucker Christmas
LOCATION:
North District | Melody & Angúo’s house
TIME:
December 25, 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Melody, Teddie | Eliza, Angúo, Carlisle, Cassidy (NPC)
A VERY TUCKER CHRISTMAS

Every day was a holiday for Teddie. How did the saying go, if you do a job you love you'll never work a day in your life? All he did was celebrate every single day. Sure, not everyone felt the same way as he did, but they were the ones ending up on the wrong side of a scalding tar soak, or a human kebab, or his jeep's tires. He was just having fun! Of course, he wasn't blind to the changing of the seasons, to the lights decorating the nicer parts of town, the sparkly trees, candy canes, and so on and so forth. Eliza made a point of reminding him every day of the celebration, especially when Melody invited them over.

That's why he decided to go all out!

Did he need lights? He thought he might need lights. He didn't know the nicer parts of town actually had so many lights until he passed by one day. The key word here is "had". A lot of the decorations broke when he tried to shove them into the jeep, but he had enough lights to make his vehicle extremely festive. When he rode by the area again, he made a point of showing his tricked-out ride to every pedestrian, taking compliments in exchange for their safety… that day.

"Teddie… I love it so much."

When Teddie arrived home, Eliza made sure to show off her own handiwork, bringing Teddie to an assortment of presents. They were already wrapped in newspaper — "Today's issue! Not old newspaper!" — and had names scrawled on each with Carlisle's felt tips, which ended up being rewrapped as a new present for her.

She had to think long and hard about each present, brainstorming for hours, using countless sheets of paper. Teddie had always commented that he loved her writing. He was always interested in her threatening letters, giving keen suggestions like "draw her corpse at the bottom", so she thought a collection of her writings would be the perfect gift. Teddie would receive her brainstorming notes, all crumpled up in a ball.

Carlisle, sweet sweet Carlisle. She got her own felt tips to be regifted to her, but she needed something special too! What did a toddler need? She asked Carlisle, but she only made noises. So unhelpful, silly baby! That's when Eliza got the best idea. She wanted Carlisle to beat out the other toddlers, so why not give her a head start on one of the most vital parts of being an adult? Having adult teeth! She had been planning this one the longest. Teddie didn't understand her requests to take the heads of all his victims, but who was he to deny his partner? Thoroughly she examined so many sets of teeth until she had selected the most perfect of each tooth to glue together. She would have to find a dentist who could transplant this new set into Carlisle's mouth, but she'd work it out another time.

Melody's present took the least amount of brainpower. She was jam! And what does jam like? Being in jars! Eliza felt like being extra generous towards Melody. She hadn't been welcomed into the family for long, but her love was immense. Eliza emptied every jar in the cupboard, though she left all the mold and dirt inside. She went to the local bottle bank with an axe, tearing into the glass container and salvaging any jars that weren't too broken. Then she wrapped them all together. A few sounded broken when she shook the package, and some shards tore through the paper, but it's the thought that counts.

Next was Angúo, and Eliza was a bit stuck. She tried to ask Teddie for help without him knowing she was stumped but he was of little help. She knew he was a Serpent, so maybe he'd enjoy something every Serpent would enjoy… She spoke to a friend she knew to be a drug expert and asked him for recommendations. She was especially excited to be wrapping the bag of powder, knowing that it wasn't just a gift for him, but perhaps for the whole family if he was willing to share.

Finally, she wanted something special for her darling niece, something that would solidify her bond with her maternal family. So when it came time for Carlisle to have a haircut, all the clippings were deposited into a bag. When Eliza trimmed her hair, it went into the same bag. It was a bit harder for Teddie, but worked out better to have something sticky to combine the hair. Eliza thought that having a part of Melody would be great too, but that was difficult. She felt bad doing something so sacrilegious but she had to… buy supermarket jam to add to the bag, pretending it was Melody's.

Now Eliza turned to Teddie. "Are your presents in the jeep?" Teddie realised at that point that he had forgotten something. He did have decorations in the trunk that he could pass off as presents, but would there be enough for everyone?

"Dear, deary dear. Yes, but I left some in the house as well. All in the house"

He hurried past his family into the rest of the house. Looking all around for the perfect present, he stopped at one spot. There had been a particular scent for the last few days that Teddie had grown fond of, and was sure Melody and her family would love it too. He went to the floor to grab the dusty rat that had died weeks ago. He stuffed it in his pocket, as Carlisle had grown fond of her rat friend and he could not let her see it be given away. It already started to cook from his heat, surely to be perfect by the time they reached her place.

"Ok, I'm ready, I'm ready!"

"Oh yay! Let's go dear"

Eliza grabbed Carlisle and brought her to the car, while Teddie handled the presents, getting his grubby tar hands all over them.

"Oh, great idea, Teddie! The hand pattern, that's so us!"

And so the happy family drove off, singing off-tune carols as they went until they pulled up to the house. Without knocking — family doesn't need to knock — they barged in.

"SURPRISE!"

Immediately they brought more chaos to the house, Teddie picking at the decorations on the wall while Eliza interrogated Melody.

"Did you make these? Did you buy these? Did everyone get a present? What's for dinner? Do you love the holidays as much as I do- OH! We have presents in the car! TEDDIE! Go get the presents!"

"Presents, yes."

Dutifully, Teddie brought in the presents, dropping them on the ground. More jars shattered.

"Well? Now what?"

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

He squirmed as much as he could, but it was for naught. Sometimes the sounds were so distant that Darius could allow himself to relax a little bit, but it took only one crash, or yell for Darius to jump to action, only to realise the futility of his situation. He couldn’t even chew his limbs off to escape — and he might’ve if that was a viable plan —that’s how pathetic things were. Right now, the most viable plan went something like this:

1. Wait until this all blows over.
2. Call for help!
3. Cry, sob, beg. You're just a civilian caught up in all this, you had no violent intentions.
4. Pray to every God you've heard of that the guy who put you in this mess doesn't see you.
5. Never take a job in the East again.

Of course, the first step was entirely out of his control. He had to hope that no more giants came his way, and then- Fuck. A shadow fell at the edge of his vision, and he heard the heavy crunch of snow. Someone was here. Please just be a passerby. Please, please, please.

But Darius had no such luck as the man came closer. He wriggled, hoping for any kind of miracle. Maybe now would be the time for the metal to break, and an anvil would drop from the sky on this guy's head. He got a glimpse of his face in his struggle. Maybe he was friendly and his face just… looked evil? No, his gut told him this guy was going to tear him to pieces, so it's time to skip a few steps.

"Shit you gotta help me, please please please. I'll do anything, I promise, just help me out of here!"

What did his dignity ever do for him anyway?

 
Jackson Reese Alessi
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
Littleleaf Zone, East District
TIME:
Janurary 29th, 2021
PARTICIPANTS:
Jackson, Llyod ( Jexon Whells Jexon Whells )
Rising Butterflies

The sound of his cell chiming reminded him that he had plans. Lorrin had been bugging him for ages to try sparring with someone who could actually test the limits of his potential in a structured environment. He supposed it made sense that Lorrin made it as long as he did with the way he approached things. Besides, technically he did in fact ask for this when he went to the other begging to allow him to be his apprentice.

Still, he hadn’t really heard of this Juggernaut fellow before… He didn’t like making it a habit to hurt other dragons and Lorrin knew this. It was why Jackson worked solo usually or warned people to be as far as they could when he got serious. It made him wonder just why Lorrin picked out this one of all people.

When he pestered the man all he really got back was that he had made “arrangements.”

He wondered if that meant that he’d worked things out with the other or if he was just being dragged along with some vague promise of training like he had been early on. Glancing back at the phone he saw GPS coordinates and a short description of the other.

Straight and to the point like usual.

He made his ass move as he put the coordinates into the app he’d downloaded specifically for finding out what the fuck his mentor meant. Once he got there he realized that a much more fitting way to describe this place could have been the main bridge he could be found fucking up serpents. He let out a huff as he looked around for anyone roughly matching the description.

Once he did he called out as immediately as he could.

“Yo, you the Llyod I’m supposed to be looking for?”

First, he had to confirm it was him. Then he needed to know why exactly they were supposed to be sparring. If he was lucky he could spurn this dude off fighting and hit up a cafe.

 
Hiachi & Keith
Collab Post
SCENE:
Hide & Seek
LOCATION:
Some Park, Edge of East District
PARTICIPANTS:
collab w/ miki miki
Hide & Seek

God damn it…

The cracking of Keith’s limbs, his joints and bones beneath the dry tendrils, drew attention. All eyes were on both of them. But Hiachi didn’t dream of counting on bystanders to save her. Especially since the confidence with which he walked was that of a strong HP. No one would dream of putting themselves in the middle of that.

She held her shaky hands out to distance herself. As he approached closer, she put on foot behind her. Then another. And another.

Hiachi’s breathing started quickening. From here, she couldn’t run. Unless he was vehemently against collateral damage, he could catch her through the crowd easily. .

She should have talked instead of running. Then maybe he wouldn’t be hunting her like a bounty deerling. Maybe she’d be caught in a lie, but whatever would have happened then would be millions of times better than the certain doom that awaited her.

Hiachi cleared her throat. Well, better late than never, right?

“H-hey, you know, I think we’ve got caught in this crazy misunderstanding…”

Whenever the girl stepped back, Keith would step forward in response. He tilted his head in an unnerving manner, his fingers moving back and forth, the metal of his blades tinkling as they rubbed against each other.

“Oh yeah? A misunderstanding, you say…”

His right arm started to stretch unnaturally, muscles, bones and sinew morphing and warping, until it nearly touched the ground as it hung from his shoulder.

“THEN WHY DID YOU RUN AWAY THE MOMENT I CALLED OUT TO YOU, GOT SOMETHING TO HIDE, IS THAT IT? SOME SECRETS YOU’RE TOO SCARED TO SPILL OUT?”

He moved his shoulder, blades making contact against the bricks under, sending small debris and sparks flying around. His hand then moved up to the level of his shoulders once more, ready to start a wind up.

The blades were new. The blades were BAD news.

“..I mean yeah, don’t we all…?”

Like a deer frozen by headlights, Hiachi froze under the gaze of a thousand eyes.

“…Uh. I didn’t mean trouble, I promise. I got scAred,” she said, her voice cracking and straining like a stray violin note.

Her back hit the safety guard on the edge of the riverfront with a chill. There was nowhere to run.


“And you’ll have much more to be scared of now”

Keith threw his arms back, crimson tendrils extending and bending in inhuman ways, as if no bones lied within to keep them within reasonable limits. The pair then shot forward, a closed fist and an open hand, daggers spearheading the charge, the later coming in with a short delay compared to the former.

The weapon-like arm that charged at her skull caused an instinct to electrify through her distressed brain. Her knees buckled, causing her whole body to duck under the impact. She dodged by pure chance.

It took one, two seconds for her to realize she had gained a chance back. She scrambled to the diagonal left, trying to evade him by running directly into a crowd.

The mouse was an elusive one, Keith learned that much from their encounter so far. To kill the innocent and to then run away so to avoid the responsibility, such was the way of the serpents. Both inside and out, she fit them to a tee. It was a good thing that Keith was this coming, his open hand which came later was then used as a whip immediately after. Turning to the left and grabbing the unsuspecting girl’s collar.

Too little, too late.

He pulled his hand back, dragging the girl along with it until his arm was back to its human proportions, raising the girl off the ground, her feet dangling just a few inches above. Keith stood in place silently. His eyes kept staring directly at her, that alone being more than capable of communicating all of the vitriol he felt without the need of uttering a single word.

A pit quickly grew in Hiachi’s stomach. The ground that slipped beneath her feet, the weakened thrashing of her legs as she was dragged in front of her pursuer. It was the end.

Hiachi choked. There were no words left. Any dissonant comment she could have made were buried beneath something else.

It was unbearable. She hated it. Her chest tightened around her lungs and heart. She hadn’t meant to, and yet she matched his gaze with equal ire. Fear masked by hatred. Her eyes were made pools of pitch ink, boring into whatever sat behind his gaze. Marking the canvas of his memory, surely.

Keith felt great pleasure in her final combative stare, finally having the guts of accepting her fate. “It’s over, Serpent. Now…Do me a favor and die!”

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Keith wound up his arm, pulling the limb back as his muscles tensed, before delivering a final haymaker at the little runaway. The blow connected cleanly with her stomach, with enough force to release her from his grasp and launch her forward. Turning the poor girl into an unwilling projectile past the edge of the district, subjecting her to the long way down.

 
MARKUS WEISS
SCENE:
Sunday Roast
TIME:
October 21st, 2021 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
Passeri's Penthouse, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri Park & Markus Weiss
SUNDAY ROAST
Markus didn't say anything. Help. That was all she wanted. To help. The Tiger King allowed a momentary flicker of contemplation to cross his face, against his better judgment.

It had been a pretty speech, but for Markus there was just one problem: he didn't believe her. Not one word. He didn't believe her as far he could throw her, which, coincidentally, was very, very far. Not even once had he dared to forget who he was dealing with: a woman who traded in love and lies for a living. Well... Whatever saccharine sweet fantasies she peddled her fans, Markus wasn't buying.

"..."

Markus allowed the dead space between them to stretch. His mind worked in silence, churning through possibilities, through the labyrinthine corridors of motives and counter-moves. This game they played had no simple favors, no innocuous gestures. Markus was not one to surrender his position lightly, and yet... Times had changed. Were changing. To survive was to change with them or be left in the dust, and when boiled down to his most fundamental components, Markus above all was a survivor.

"Help," he repeated, finally breaking the quiet, his voice low and controlled, his brow drawn together in a skeptical line. Markus knew better than to take appearances at face value. No one does anything for free, especially not in their circles. In his time he'd seen charity turn to chains, generosity wielded like a bludgeon.

The King leaned forward slightly, the movement deliberate, a reminder. I could end this right now if I wanted. The leather creaked under the shift of his weight—his posture relaxed but his mind anything but—his eyes intent upon hers. In the days since Magnus had first taken a shine to him 'til now, Markus had watched empires rise and fall, dynasties and dystopias both, and if there was one thing he'd learned, it's that the most dangerous pieces on the board are the ones that come offering gifts.

He picked up his fork again, not to eat, but to gesture with it as he spoke, punctuating his next words.

"N' what's in it for you?" He asked. His voice was a whisper, but it held the weight of stone.

As he waited for a response, Markus fixed his eyes on hers, searching, challenging.


 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Back in the Game
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 5 2022
LOCATION:
Boustan [About a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hitoshi, Milo
Back in the Game
[LAST TIME, ON NEW OASIS: FOUR HEAVENLY KINGS]

"There is beauty to be found in animals, unlike in most people. The innocence of nature, so disconnected from our modern world, makes it so much simpler to be around."

"I think for all their faults, people have their moments."

"Where is Elizabeth?! Please don't tell me something happened while we were away"

"She's gone. Someone took her."


"Alright. Every second matters!"


-Fade Out-



-Fade In-

Milo responded to Charlie's question, although no real words were needed, his eyes acting as a window to his mind, the utter defeat and disbelief in his expression. The azure-haired Phoenix was all too familiar with that face, or at the very least would be, should've him gotten access to a mirror whenever he experienced it himself. Hitoshi managed to take the reins of the ordeal, however, a glimpse of his true veteran nature flashing as his composure overcame whatever panic the rookies were about to fall into. With a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and words full of determination to both guide and rally them, Charlie could not help but feel infected by his confidence.

"You're right, Aniki! I'm sure they're still nearby" He nodded, newfound determination in his eyes as he reached out for his phone, preparing to set up their communication.

Once Hitoshi took off on his own towards South, Charlie turned to his artist friend and partner in crime. "Don't let it get to you, Milo, what's done is done, and what matters now is that we find the people behind this and kick their butts" He placed his fist against his chest, near the location of his heart. "Hope is the last thing we can lose" Charlie could relate to Milo, he had been in that place before, how his inexperience allowed for uncertainty and fear to get the better of someone, should things derail tragically. Charlie wanted to protect Milo, both his body and his heart.

"I'll be taking the tram station exit, If you're in danger, I'll go help you right away" Uttered the boy as he turned towards his intended direction, his legs bent noticeably, his body getting closer to the ground, until the muscles in his legs stiffened, leaping forward at high speeds. Soaring through the air in such a manner was the boy's usual method to compensate for his lacking velocity on foot.


 
MARKUS WEISS
SCENE:
The concrete that breaks our fall
TIME:
January 16, 2010 | Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Paragon Hall, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Isobel, Markus, Roland
The concrete that breaks our fall
The crater cradled Markus' limp form. High above him, the remnants of the crowd's cacophony dwindled into the distance, a fading echo of a fervor to which Markus was now deaf. Pain was his universe; it pulsed in time with his heart, a beat drummed out on bruised flesh and aching bone.

As he flitted in and out of consciousness, his breaths shallow and uneven, the sensation of Roland's final blow replayed itself with cruel fidelity. In these fleeting moments of lucidity, the full weight of his defeat bore down upon him. For a moment, Markus' eyelids flickered briefly open, revealing the vacant void where the King's box loomed above, now desolate and echoing the hollow victory that was not his. How long had he waited, Markus wondered, before he'd whisked off to see Roland? To congratulate his new Ace, the favored son?

Was this it? Was this meant to be his lot in life, perpetually rolling a boulder uphill only to watch it come tumbling down?

Shame crept in like a tide, each wave eroding the shore of his self-worth. In the small, vulnerable recesses of his mind, he was once more only a child, seeking approval, longing for acknowledgment, aching for the warm glow of pride to be reflected in the eyes of a father who actually wanted him. But, no. That was not his destiny. That pride had been stripped from him in front of an audience of thousands that all but dissipated like vapors into the night, their cheers for another echoing within the gaping void of his mind. And in their leaving, silence settled over Markus like a shroud, as he was left to grapple with the profound solitude that defeat brings. His body would heal, the bruises would fade, and the blood would wash away, but the memory of this day would remain, etching itself indelibly into the very fibre of his being, a scar—no—a gaping wound, one that would never truly heal.

The pain of the burns that riddled his body was nothing compared to the sear of his pride. It was too much to bear: to strive with every fiber of one's being, to pour every drop of one's essence into the pursuit of victory, only to be thoroughly outmatched. This was the bitter pill Markus was forced to swallow. There was no romanticism here, no silver lining or noble valor in defeat; there was only the raw, jagged truth that sometimes one's best simply was not enough.

As Markus lay there in the quiet—there, beneath the silent judgment of the emptying stands—he found himself thinking of his mother. Every bruise sang with each sharp intake of breath. If she could see him now... The thought of that... He could not accept it. And yet, what could he do? Nothing. Nothing but lay there. Even in the murky waters of unconsciousness, a part of Markus was aware of the shifting shadows, of the warmth that seemed to settle over him like a mantle. He opened his mouth and the words tumbled out in a ragged whisper.




"I'm sorry... Ma..."

It was the unlikeliest of comforts.


 
Isaiah Spade
CS Link
SCENE:
If It Means A Lot To You
LOCATION:
Isaiah's Apartment, East District
TIME:
Post-Arc 3 (31st MAY 2022 @0200)
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Ruriko
IF IT MEANS A LOT TO YOU
"With everything that was happening, there wasn't much time. I could only focus on what was right in front of me, trying not to lose what we had left." In those moments, if he didn't give everything to the situation at hand and act immediately, it was quite easy to imagine what may have happened. He also couldn't afford to pull another Dragon away from their assignment so suddenly. Every mission was important, and disrupting one could have lasting consequences, potentially even putting people in harm's way.

When he noticed Ruriko's hand, offered to him along with her words of reassurance, a short, almost mirthless chuckle escaped with a heavy breath. "Don't worry, I know." While he knew there were plenty of other capable Dragons around to provide their support, acknowledging them wasn't the only meaning behind his word. They were also acknowledgement of his shortcomings, all of which were becoming more prominent as the East faced each new challenge.

"Doesn't seem like I'm cut out for it." There was no self-pity or an attempt to seek out comforting words stating the opposite. In his mind, it was just the truth. No signs of defeat, grief, bitterness, or rage. Just recognition of his lack of ability.

He'd built up a reputation for being reliable. He was always calm, an unshakable pillar that always carried out his orders to the letter. Cold when necessary, yet warm when appreciated. Those were qualities that earned him the title of Ace. It was a role he couldn't help but feel he was given in error.

Since he assumed his position, his performance during crucial moments had been lacking. In his eyes, at least. During a major event that shaped the future of the entire city, he had been absent. This time had been different, and he made sure to stand close in order to do whatever he could. But when he looked at the results, what he could do didn't seem to measure up to what some people may have expected.

Such things only started when the responsibility of leadership was placed on his lap. The reputation that carried him to that position was primarily earned when he had no one to lead. He'd been most effective as a tool, no more than a knife for slitting throats and a cover for hiding secrets. From his time as a young boy leading men to their graves to his later years when he was doing the same under a different command, he made sure to maintain his use as a weapon so that he could keep living. Unfortunately, it seemed as though that edge was starting to dull.

With all those thoughts in his mind, he put his hand over Ruriko's, feeling a warmth that he'd more or less given up on when he resigned himself to this path in life. "But if I have to be able to carry at least this much." He knew it wasn't good for one person to take on everything, and he wouldn't attempt to. But he was aware of his limitations more than anyone else, and he was still far from crumbling. That was his value. That's what afforded him a place to be and a way to survive.


 
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 finally had a short moment to relax, as it seemed that the exhaustingly energetic girl, Veronica, had seemingly gotten most of her hyperbolic energy out her system, falling down to a more neutral yet friendly disposition. In all reality, Keith was grateful of her, hadn't she been there to snatch away Keith's attention, the Dragon might have started something he would have ended up regretting for years to come. Not only that, if he found the willingness to do it, engaging in further conversation with the woman could prove discouraging for the vile serpent scum beside him.

The boy was mere miliseconds away from uttering words to start a conversation with Veronica once again. But any word that might have tried to slip through his lips, crawled back inside and seeked refugee within the most confined areas from within him. A terrifying chill ran down his spine as he felt the material of his gloves suddenly rub his fingers as it escaped from the embrace.

For an instance of time that might have been but a couple of seconds, which felt like a full minute from the dragon's perspective, Keith stared at his hands, now laid bare for all to see. The repulsive crimson limbs that fate found amusing to attack to the boy's body ever since his very conception. Not only were his hands of a sickening shade of blood, but their shape as well, while seemingly fine at a simply glance, underlied subtle inconsistent variations in its surface. Some parts of his arms even looked like a figure made of clay that had been faintly tampered by its creator for their own amusement.

These nightmarish extensions of his body had brought opportuniy and scrutiny in equal measure in his life. They were nothing but a sad necessity in his current lifestyle. And even then, his hatred and contempt for them remained mostly unchanged, even after their usefulness reached new heights as of late.

Keith's pupils began to contract, focusing on his uncovered hands with increased horror. His breath begun to get agitated with no way for him to control it, and a light whimpering escaped from his mouth.

"Oh...Woah you're one of those Chimerik guys?"

"...A-AaaahhhAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

His body curled up impulsively. His knees hitting up to his chest as he lowered himself, his damp hands thrusting themselves into the creases and folds of his generous clothing. Even from this perspective, it was easy to tell that Keith's breathing was still severly agitated.

"Hey, buddy, a-are you okay?" Asked Veronica, now finding herself both puzzled and worried about his behavior. Yes Chimeriks were technically a rarity, but in New Oasis it was not so much to the point of reacting so egregiously about it.

"G-Give them back..."

"What?"

"GIVE THEM BACK!"


Keith demanded at Peyton as he turned to face the nauteously nefarious filth. His voice becoming a mixture of a command and a roar. Words that slowly attracted the attention of those nearby. Safely concealed behind his layers of clothing, Keith's fingers erupted into razor-sharp blades, thankfully away from any unwanted expectators.

Slowly, the line progressed, the unorthodox trio steadily getting closer to their end goal.




@Coyote Hart
 
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