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

SCENE:

Hoodwinked [July 15th, 2022]

LOCATION:

The Suede Bee, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Rohen, Passeri, Dyne

Hoodwinked

Rohen blinked, simply caught off guard by the abrupt response from her... 'boss.' She supposed she was just trying to lighten the mood. It made her crack a smile. She needed to let loose a little since this was a civilian setting. Plus, maybe this gang member wasn't so bad. So when it came to asking what she preferred to be called, she just shrugged. "You can go ahead and use my name. It's not like we're doing something too bad from what it seems." She said before she was tossed a purse full of a few grand of cash, all bundled up neatly into three stacks of five pieces of twenties and a photo of their target.

"...To start with, I just want you to play with her. Strike up a conversation... Maybe buy her some drinks, if she's receptive. Try and feel around and see if she's been hanging around for business or pleasure. There's a few thousand in there, so use it to get yourself some chips and whatever else you think you'll need for the night."

She listened carefully to the instructions and nodded. She also heard the second batch of instructions and nodded as well. However, some of the instructions caused her to be a little mischievous. "How come these instructions sound a lot like I'm trying to hook up and wake up in a love hotel the next morning?" She teased with a sly grin. "And you were listening in and thinking about joining? Never pegged you to be that type."

She joked before nodding once more. "Alright, so the end goal if everything's good is to get her to a VIP room. Not too bad." She said. "Then, I'll go ahead and get started. I'll keep my mic on so you can hear everything." With that, she proceeded inside the casino and into the realm of gambles between triumphs and losses. She went over to the teller to purchase chips first. She put out one of the bundles of money in front and told the teller what she wanted. "Hey, can I get twenty pieces of 'hundreds with this?" The teller nodded and went to go fetch the chips after taking the cash. She gave the chips to Rohen and she proceeded on her way with a couple grand's worth of chips on her and the remaining grand in cash that can be used in drinks. The photo was tucked away in her shirt so that it will never see the casino's light.

She began searching through the tables and games, trying to sift through the attendees of the casino to find her target. She remembered what the target looked like based on the photo. While she was looking, she wondering which games would be good to play in. Most of the games she's seen already had their winners and losers and some in-betweens. Only a few managed to draw a crowd. But with how she moved and walked, no one seemed to notice her. It didn't take long until she found the table her target sat and luckily, she found an open seat. "Heya, mind if I take this seat?"

She said to the table as she sat down. She put her chips on the table and was given cards. She took one look at her cards and let out a breath. "Hmm... Raise." She said nonchalantly, trying to start the game probably in the most dumbest way possible. She wasn't gonna seem like a huge baller yet. As she looked at her target, she looked at their attire. If anything, the golden accessories she had on caught her eye. Though, she paid mind to not stare for too long. While she was captivating, she needed to remember what she needed to do.

miki · Mar 6, 2024

Hiachi Ito

SCENE:

Lyrical Misery

LOCATION:

The Serenity, South District

DATE:

Pre-Arc 3 | Nov 11, 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Hitoshi

LYRICAL MISERY

Something was different, this time.

Singing was one of the many skills. Fruit cutting, dancing, sitting with crossed legs—one locked over the other and not the ankle placed over her knee, because that was how her dad sat and her brother sat and her brother sat and may any and all gods help her if she followed that pattern—and singing!

Performing like a show parrot with pruned feathers and a set of phrases. The weather, the season, the soft conversation. And it was so damn stupid—did people really do this anymore? Would the son of the rich man really come across a cluster of pigeons trying to be male peacocks and shift his gaze beyond infinite wealth? Dollars compounded on dollars and spiderwebs of influence, affluence, and the like.

Maybe it was a necessity. Blood means little—the name is everything. So does the rich woman sacrifice her physique for a child, or pay someone else to do it? It’s simple, really. Unlike much else.

Or maybe it was sadism. Isn’t it funny? To watch baby owls in the daylight, kicked out of the nest? It is funny, and that’s why she laughed.

Or maybe it was nothing at all, because this wasn’t, couldn’t possibly be, how it worked. Because Mom was stupid and delusional and stubborn as an ox, and as clumsy as one too. She stomped all over Hiachi’s glass heart and complained of the mess seconds later.

It made her mad that it didn’t seem so bad anymore. This shell of a thing, this ashen heart, he gently poured light over her head. Heeded her suffering, her losses. Reflected it. Saw her for what she was because he was, too.

He was showing her the way. She could leave it here. Place the glass pieces for others to step on. Harmonize her way into forgetting…

”No.”

Hiachi wasn’t drunk enough to fend off the idea entirely, but sober enough to realize it was really, really, stupid.

The numbness was numbing. She needed something stronger.

She revved her consciousness into gear. Surely, if she was having such a miserable time, she deserved a nicer drink. She had been abandoned, which would sting coming from anybody—but she had been abandoned after being invited out here by college acquaintances, abandoned by her high school friends when she asked for help out here, and her own family, and her mother. And that sucked, right? And she wanted a cigarette, but putting in the effort to go outside and do that was a lot of energy, and also smoking was bad, so she deserved something nice for curbing that. She deserved this.

“Excuse me,” She said, her voice trying to peak above her normal mumble, “Whatever shots that guy ordered?” She pointed at Hitoshi, then at herself. “I want them.”

Drink to numb the pain!

@joshuadim

miki · Mar 6, 2024

Little Red

scene:

Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

location:

The Roost, South District

date:

June 20, 2022

participants:

Pei, Helva, Charlie, Corvo, Eleanore

Clipped Wings Cannot Rebirth

In a silly way, by interrupting when he did, Jun saved her life. Because instead of shoving her machete into Charlie’s guts, her head moved at breakneck pace to lock with his eyes.

Her ire had dissipated like a cloud of smoke. Now, all she could feel was shock. He invited Jun here too? What the fuck was he thinking… Her jaw unhinged as she watched her sponsoree skip around, completely ignorant to the dark shadow cast over the room. He gleefully swung his katana in one hand, and a garbage bag dripping red in the other.

Before she could question him, she was cut off by the sound of Eleanore’s gun cocking in their direction. With a gulp, she silently agreed to abide by Eleanore’s terms. Her aim was perfect—she could shoot her through the eyes from here, if she so wished. But greater than her fear was guilt.

And then there was the greater shock. Helva’s boots took strong, echoed step after strong, echoed step—signifying her presence louder than her voice. She walked past her, Jun, Charlie, Eleanore, and Hiyma—to Pei. She worked with resilient focus, and an aura so entwined with the shadows that she fended off the flickering flames by existing.

She could feel her blood pressure reach new heights as Jun ambled up to Helva and drew his blade to her throat. He was rambling about something related, but there was no way he was that fucking stupid, right? Red’s veins pumped so full of blood that the outline could be seen on her face. And then she cursed herself, because it was expressions like these that kept her under the botox syringe.

And all because of this kid. Damn, he was so much like her when she was younger. When you’re that innocent, everything is a game. Her agape expression clenched back to grinded teeth. Her voice was building up in the back of her throat, before a shout burst from her chest:

“SHRIKE! Put your fucking sword away! I’m already dealing with traitor allegations, I don’t need them on you too!”

The whirlwind of new arrivals and stressors was so sudden that there was no way for Red to prepare herself for the greatest shock of all.

She heard his voice—grating, even more so through that robot’s crappy speaker—his laugh. Mocking her, specifically.

Red’s resistance went slack as her neck turned 180º. As she tried to peer at Q-Bot from afar, the grip on her collar was promptly released—and she was dropped to the ground. The litany of pebbles and dust that made up the dirt ground dug into her knees.

The stupid brat… He’s alive.

She wanted to feel relieved—she was off the hook, at least in her mind. But then again, the thought of him spinning in his chair and cackling at how earnestly stupid she had been grinded her gears.

Helva’s scolding stung. She felt like a child in the way she never liked to—small, stupid, and useless. She still had no clue what was going on. And she was right—she had no rhyme or reason to stab Pei, no matter how angry he made her. Phoenixes weren’t savages. Their hits were done through process, signed with crimson ink and handed to her with assurance. They were certain executions, and not speculation.

In the end, she decided on one feeling: shame. It poured out over her. Red was universally feared for her efficiency. She moved through the world with a comfortable spring in her step, knowing that she would never cross someone who could really defy her. Before the Phoenixes, this was undoubtedly true. And even after she joined, this remained factual to some extent. Sure, her higher ups were to be feared, but she still had that assurance.

Sinners were smited before her blade. When someone opposed her, opposed them, their fate was sealed. When her father called her name—Red, Little Red—she knew what to do.

Her life was simple, her existence pure.

But things were all mixed up now. At some point, she became the liability.

Red shoved herself up off of the floor and stomped her way over to the android. She had to make sure that she didn’t mishear a word. When she saw his pixelated face, she snatched the bot from Jun’s hands and shook it.

“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!?” Red screamed at Pei through the screen. “What, do you think this is some kind of joke!?”

Coyote Hart · Mar 6, 2024

SEBASTIAN SE

CS Link

SCENE:

Of Moose and Murder

LOCATION:

East District, Not Far From the Eternal Night Palace

TIME:

June 18th, 2021 | Pre-Arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

Sebastian, Mirza

OF MOOSE AND MURDER

Aww, what a shame. Mirza seemed unfazed on the outside aside from a little wariness. There wasn't any of the delightful panic that Sebastian adored to see in his victims. No fear, no begging, just a steadfast stance. But it was still good to see the goosebumps on Mirza's unblemished skin. It at least meant that Sebastian's performance wasn't completely without results.

"It's cute that you think I'd regret this," Sebastian said with a smirk, "No, I think your screams would stick with me..."

Before he finished his sentence, Sebastian leaned forward further into Mirza's personal space, allowing the knife to sink a little into Mirza's skin so just the faintest bead of blood was drawn, "... in the most delightful way."

Of course, Mirza could have also meant that killing in Dragon controlled territory would land Sebastian in trouble. After all, such a heinous act would attract the ire of the orderly gang members. But Sebastian was confident that he could evade them.

"I think I like chatting with my knife right here, where it belongs," Sebastian rested his wrist against Mirza's shoulder, relieving some of the strain from holding the knife in such a position for a prolonged manner, "So if you want to talk, then talk. And while you're at it, I want to ask you, are you the type that would enjoy a little pain, Mirza?"

WhiskeyMarten

Elenion Aura · Mar 6, 2024

MARKUS WEISS

SCENE:

Blood Within The Pavement Cracks

TIME:

July 9th, 2022 | | Post-Arc 3

LOCATION:

Central District Sewers

PARTICIPANTS:

Dagger, Markus

BLOOD WITHIN THE PAVEMENT CRACKS

There were certain lines you didn't cross. Rules you didn't break.

Markus kicked a pebble into the yawning crater. He frowned, his gaze lingering on the dark abyss that lay before him.

He didn't need to be here. He'd trusted her with his life before. There was no doubt in his mind she'd have been able to finish this bitter business herself. And even if not, there was no end to the parade of lackeys and sycophants who'd jump at the chance to do his bidding, for the promise of his favor.

"What's the story." He said, his voice a snarl.

He didn't need to hear it again. He knew all the details already. Maybe he thought there was something he'd missed. Or maybe he wanted to feel angry all over again. To remember the belligerent fury he'd felt when first he'd heard that someone had nearly taken what was his.

Markus had lost count of the men he'd killed. It was harder to recall the last time he'd slaughtered a beast.

azenva · Mar 6, 2024

Kazue Kaneko

SCENE:

Helping Hand

LOCATION:

East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Kazue

Helping Hand

“I just wish I could’ve helped more—“

Before her apologetic rambling could pick up any steam, Kazue had the air squeezed out of her lungs by Charlie’s hug. Kazue did not experience physical contact frequently, and practically never got it from someone as strong as him. It was hard to tell if it was hard to breathe because of surprise or being constricted. As Kazue began to fear that this was how she would die, Charlie finally let go.

She took a few deep, ragged gulps of the freezing air as soon as she was released, like a runner that had pushed themselves to their limit. Charlie’s words registered, but Kazue needed all the oxygen she could get, so she didn’t say anything. It took him mentioning the last time the two had had “physical contact” with each other for her to blink and refocus.

“Just…don’t jumpscare me with a hug like that next time and we’ll call it even.”

Kazue’s breathing was now back to normal. Her posture was also back to how it usually was, curled like a shrimp. She turned around, hoping nobody had also decided to investigate this alleyway. No one was there, so now Kazue only had a potential “what if there was a person before who left to report me” to worry about instead. She sighed, and faced back towards Charlie.

“OK. I still have somewhere I need to be. I think just so that Guardian or whatever doesn’t tie me to you, you should hang out here a little bit more. Just hide yourself better unless you want to meet someone less willing to accept a wanted enemy. Also, if there’s some other side of this alleyway or something, use that. I’m gonna go now. Bye.”

With one last stilted, awkward wave of her hand, Kazue bid Charlie farewell. Hopefully her bike had remained untouched…

thebigfella · Mar 7, 2024

Zentsupa Pei

SCENE:

Next Aisle Down

LOCATION:

8th Street Plaza, South District

TIME:

Post-Outbreak || July 12th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Rutger

Slav , Jun

King Crimson , Pei

Next Aisle Down

The standard chaos of bustling society, the bustle that moved on without anything to stop it. Bodies funneled in and out through the revolving doors, squeezing through the automatic doors as the recurring dings gave greetings and farewells as customers moved along in a hurry. Bags and carts were carried and pushed. Some had gotten the bare essentials while others had packed up high with everything and anything. The cacophony of voices that echoed through the surroundings, from the walkways to the storefronts, created a sense of panic as people ran and spedwalk.

Kids cried as they desperately tried to reach toy stores, tantrums over being unable to get on the tiny railroad placed within the heart of the plaza; parents dragged them along without hearing any complaint, hurrying to the next store with plastic tied to their wrists like change.

Frantic shoppers weren’t anything new; during certain sales, the madness of the market was inescapable, but this was something different. People weren’t walking out with brand-new TVs or picking up layaway shoes; clothing stores were left surprisingly empty while people flooded into markets that sold the basics, shouting and shoving as they all battled for the chance to spend their money.

“Come on! Hurry up! We need to get more toilet paper!” a man exclaimed as he ran ahead past a storefront with televisions facing forward through the glass. Two other men followed behind them, numerous packs of toilet paper hugged underneath their arms. The perspective didn’t follow them; instead, it stayed focused on ongoing news broadcasts being televised.

A stoic news anchor with his graying combover and blue tie spoke of events, footage taken above of the ongoing madness taking place among ruins of concrete and rebar. Inhuman figures sulked through the destruction like it was their home, strange monstrosities of unknown origin that took shapes familiar and unfamiliar. The broadcast’s dark red chyron slowly went across the bottom of the screen.

UNKNOWN CREATURES LOOSE IN CENTRAL, OFFICIALS WARN CAUTION.

The anchor’s lips moved to speak as no sound came out from the muted speakers, his advice unneeded and unheard. A spiky-haired silhouette with even sharper teeth stepped in front of the television; right on his shoulder was a bat-shaped creature with the same twisted grin, their reflection on the glass as he peered through.

“Kekekekek. Looks like everyone’s getting excited. Fuckin’ dumbasses,” he spoke with amused glee, such condescending remarks spoken so casually, there wasn’t much-left imagination left to the origins. Pei cackled under his breath, hands in his pockets as he stared at the ongoing broadcast, only the slightest bit of intrigue in his eyes as he watched the recording of what was happening within Central.

This moment of analysis was disrupted by the sounds of metal clattering into the ground, rushing right towards him. “Oh! TV!?” said the familiar ear-grating voice of Q-Bot as he skidded to a stop beside Pei, looking up at the televisions; his tiny form immediately jumped up and down, trying to get a better look from its small size on the ground. “I wanna see, I wanna seeeee!” the robot cried.

“There’s nothing worth watching,” Pei said dryly as he smirked at the tiny machine, he and Kiys looking in unison. The sound of paw squeaks and fluttering fairy wings came before his two other Playmates walked up to join them.

“What are we doing here? I was arguing on the Iroi Fan Forum before you suddenly dragged us out here,” Bushineko remarked, his arms crossed uninterestedly. Lala was floating above him, her hands nervously fiddling, not daring to question Pei’s intentions.

“Kekekek! What do you come to a mall for outside of shopping!?” Pei snappily replied before pulling a hand out of his pocket. A bill was held between his fingers, which he quickly spread to reveal two more bills behind it. Leaning down, he presented all three bills to his Playmates, who each had their own expressions of shock on their face, dropped jaws, and bulging eyes.

“Money!?” Lala blustered out.
“For us!?” Q-Bot spat, just as bewildered.
“THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE-ZARUNYAN!!” Bushineko shouted, his “cool” act falling apart as he flailed around his paws in disbelief.

“Just take ‘em already! Go buy some stuff, keep yourselves busy, and get outta my hair!” he ordered, shoving the bills towards them. Without hesitation, Q-Bot grabbed his bill and raised it in the air, trotting up and down in celebration as he waved it around in joy. “Pi-pi-po!♩ Professor, you’re so nice!”

Lala was more hesitant to take her money, worried that it might come out and bite her; she grasped the other end of the bill before slowly sliding it out from Pei’s fingers to hold it between her tiny arms. She looked up at Pei, and getting a kindness she had never gotten from the tyrant, she began to tear up.

“S-Sorry! I’m just….so moved! This is the first time you’ve ever been nice to me!” She choked out between sobs before she grabbed the dollar and used it as a tissue to loudly blow her nose into it.

While she was busy having an emotional episode, an aroma floated through the air like a serpent's tail. It slid in front of Q-Bot and tickled his nose, causing his blocky head to rise. “W-What’s that smell?” he openly questioned, eyes wide as his head turned, immediately spotting the source.

Pretzels are located right underneath bright lamps in a white and blue storefront manned by a bored-looking teenager on his phone, all dolled up in branded clothing.

Q-Bot began to drool, and like he had been possessed, he raised his arms up in the air, walking like a zombie toward the pretzel stand. "Pretzeeeelllls…” he groaned out like the walking dead. Walking off unsupervised, Lola’s tears stopped and were replaced with terror as the robot began to shrink in the distance. “Wait, Q-Bot! Don’t wander off!” She quickly flew after him.

And then, there was only one bill left in Pei’s grasp. Bushinkeo stared at it with a sharp glare as Pei stared down at him with annoyance.

“Just take it already, you fluffy piece of shit,” he spoke, his agitation clearly, a jagged-tooth frown on his expression, but Bushinkeo didn’t budge.

“There must be a catch with you; there has to be,” he remarked, turning away from the money and putting a paw to shove it away in refusal, “I don’t want it! As a warrior, I won’t allow myself to be blinded by greed--”

His words hitched in his throat as his whispers and ears drooped, his tails falling flat against the ground as his slitted eyes widened as large as saucers.

Basked in holy light, blurred at the edges from the warrior’s perspective, the angel’s choir played in the background of gospel and harps as he spotted it. There was his favorite idol’s face, a poster placed right in a store window, advertising its merchandise inside.

The cat samurai gawked at it in silence for a long moment before, without a second hesitation, he turned around and snatched the dollar out of Pei’s hand. He sprinted off so quickly that his legs were replaced with nothing but blobs underneath his torso, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

“IROI-SAMAAAAA! I'M COMINNNNNNNNG!”

An innocent group of adults walking past found themselves caught in his trajectory and were blown out of the way, flying into the air as they screamed before coming back down and slamming into the floor, their limbs twitching in shock and pain.

“Kekekekek. It's almost too easy,” Pei said. Now, only he and Kiys are left. He shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“Now, it's time to find those other two. They’re probably already here! Kekekekekek!”

His massive grin came back tenfold, and continuous chuckles came out from under his breath as he strolled forward, a shadow going across his face.

“It’s time to tear shit up! KEKEKEKEKEKEK!”

Pei continued to walk ahead; the focus watched him disappear into the crowds, standing in the empty spot where he once stood.

And then came drips from a place unknown above, spots of black tar splattered against the storefront window. Vicious and thick, it trailed downward and downward until it reached the ground and began to soak into the crevices of the tiles….

thebigfella · Mar 7, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Moths gathered underneath a streetlight. Their fragile wings fluttered. They struggled against gravity, were swallowed up by the night, and spat back out to be devoured by the light. Too close to the sun, they burned. Corpses littered the ground while those unaware continued to dance and bask underneath the glow.

The sounds of distant cars, their engines muttered through the alleys. Rodents scurried underneath dumpsters, glowing eyes hid within dark corners of forgotten streets.

The remnants of rain-soaked drifted into drains within the sidewalk; they carried debris along drying rivers with them. Bottles and cans were shoved into cracks within buildings, street posts with sun-bleached posters that fluttered in the wind, rusted staples, and torn edges.

The apartments above had lights glowed through the blinds, and silhouettes moved across the view. Some shut off for the night, while others were just coming on. The giant buildings in the distance loomed over everything, and the bright moon in the sky, in its crescent shape, looked over even them.

Shoes traveled down a quiet side street. An uneven sidewalk riddled with cracks and weeds. A nearby children’s park echoed with the sound of old hinges, and a swing moved within the chilling night breeze.

Leftover chalk from hopscotch decorated the sidewalk, pictures of flowers, unevenly proportioned stick men, and their square-shaped houses. Shadows strolled across them as they continued on.

Messy black hair bobbed along with movement as another gust of wind blew; it moved slightly with the current. Loose hanging zipper jangled against itself with each step, an open tracksuit jacket that swung with movement, wrinkled pants that hung unevenly at the hip.

Tired, lifeless eyes. They stared toward the sky, decorated by no stars, obscured by clouds that blended in with the vast nothingness of space. Tak wandered forward silently and blind to where his own feet were walking. A faint outline of bags underneath his eyes and bandages stuck on his face from a recent scuffle are indications of a job well done.

Where was he going? A thought that brought him to look back forward, down the streets ahead. All dark and empty, the occasional streetlight acted as a haven, indicating that it wasn’t a dead end but didn’t give any clue as to where the journey would end.

He didn’t know where they led, but he did know one thing for sure: He was in the mood for an after-job meal.

He turned around, twisting on his heels, hands in his pockets, as he continued to walk while looking backward. His eyes had to move slightly downward to address the other person who was with them, both of them taking in a small moment of shared silence as they walked through the night aimlessly.

“Yo, wanna grab something to eat?”

He spoke casually, stopping his backward pace on his heels.

“Calling you Hibachi all the time has given me a craving, and seeing as we’re gonna get good pay for this job, I was thinkin’ we could go hit up a place I haven’t been to in a while. Prices are real reasonable.”

The constant frown he usually wore on his features softened a bit. His eyes closed as a hand slid out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. His head turned down towards the ground, and he rolled his neck to the side as his lips curled sideways.

“... I’ll pay for it. I’m feelin’ pretty generous.”

Generous was an understatement; he was never one to give out offers like this; there was always something else at play, some ridiculous plot or outlandish assumption.

But today was different.

His eyes turned away to the park, where a pair of swing sets were next to each other, both starting to rock in unison.

His eyes closed, and the wisps of memory tried to make themselves known. Haunting silhouettes sat upon those swings. But he pushed them away instead, and they vanished into the night as a street light flickered on.

…Tonight, he didn’t feel like eating alone. That was all.

The trees around them rustled, and the grass shifted next to their feet. Crickets chirped and sang their songs.

thebigfella · Mar 7, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

The Amestrian Job

LOCATION:

King's Ransom Casino and Bar, West District

DATE:

July 29th, 2022 || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Dagger, Oliver, Jacques, Hiachi, Tak, Dante, Shen

The Amestrian Job

“Wait a second.”

A firm declaration came from one of the dimly lit corners of the room. The sounds of a squeaking chair came with adjusting his position in the seat. His glower towards Madra pierced through the darkness as a palpable beat of silence permeated through the room; his sharp glare and disheveled features fit more on a stray dog than a man. His scowl tightly knitted his brows together.

The awkward pause drifted through the air for a moment too long before Tak finally spoke.

“Can you repeat that in a way I can actually understand?” He asked rhetorically, his hands clasping together as his scowl gave way to instead be revealed as agitated confusion, a nervous sweat hanging on his forehead.

“Geebag? Langer? Ogeous? The fuck does any of that stuff mean!? Show me those words in a real dictionary! I was too busy trying to figure that out to even pay attention to the orders!” Tak blurted out, an accusatory finger pointing towards the mime as he stood out of his chair, already starting to make a ruckus. That sharp finger point then quickly turned to aim at his next victim, Dante.

“And why the hell does the guy who’s basically got a 5th grader’s scrapbook drawn on him get his own team?? Breaching?! He can’t even open a jar of gherkins!” he accused, raising his fingers to wiggle them childishly. “Oh man, I sure hope they don’t have good lighting around that safe door.~ Peh!”

Done with his spiel, he plopped himself back into his seat, tapping his foot agitatedly. “And I’m stuck on the team with that weirdo,” he mumbled under his breath, not even daring to look over at Dagger as he did, an apprehensive frown on his face.

Wordlessly, in his pettiness, he grabbed a bottle that stood at the leg of his chair, cheap booze he brought to his lips, and took a swig before wiping his lips with his sleeve, returning to leaning in his chair.

For the depth of his job, he seemed undisturbed, whether that was arrogance or ignorance….

It wasn’t a mystery; it was definitely ignorance.

miki · Mar 7, 2024

Hiachi Ito

SCENE:

WYTTTTLBYUFTIFOYIACP

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

June 19th, 2022 | Evening

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Tak

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

At the cusp of dusk, the nocturnal showed their faces. An accident, to be sure. They were never meant to be seen; only heard, only known.

The sun had hid away, but not yet its light. The air had gone blue without the sun. The brisk whispers of wind neatened up the dark silhouettes of trees. It wasn’t night yet, but it would be soon. Best to get an early start; the early bird gets the worm.

Moths gathered by one of the working streetlights, and perhaps this particular moth had thought, today is the day I reach that light before my brothers. Today is the day I touch bliss beyond my own comprehension.

She had been a fair distance away when she saw it. It flew closer to the light than the others. The bath of warmth wasn’t enough—it needed to know how it felt to touch it.

Unfortunately, all the moth touched was a shattered shard of glass. The wing had been torn, on it, promising the moth a slow, painful death that would make its life quick and short.

But it had touched the light—for a fraction of a moment.

It burned.

She watched the moth, eyes locked on it as she passed. The creature twitched its fraught, bent wings, attempting to claw away from the spotlight. The wings were now broken arms; too fragile to ever return to its former majesty in time. It clawed away from the streetlight, close to the edge, on its way into a storm drain.

The moth would never know the sun, so it drank in as much light as it could. Drawn to flames and fluorescents. Both would burn the same—the kind of light never made the difference.

Now, it had tasted the bane of Icarus. It knew the truth—there was no bliss beyond warmth, no ascendance beyond comfort. There was only the fall without a rise.

And then the second fall.

That was the sad little story of the sad little moth she saw on the side of the road. The end.

And then there was the void, and Hiachi. And Tak, she supposed. He was there too. He watched the open sky and left her there on earth, but his body was there. He wasn’t talking, which only happened when he was thinking—of a stupid idea most likely, but that was neither here nor there because his lack of conversation made everything too damn loud.

Silence is what she would have preferred. But it was impossibly loud. When the creak of the wing as its vertebrae moved their wings at a pace she couldn’t understand, it buzzed in her ears. The spark of gasoline on gears and levers whirred. Ghosts of kids she used to know scattered into their homes, neatly sorted back into place. Doors slammed. The night was cruel; the dark alleys ate at her heels. Those were good parents.

“Yo, wanna grab something to eat?”

Thank fucking god.

“Calling you Hibachi all the time has given me a craving, and seeing as we’re gonna get good pay for this job, I was thinkin’ we could go hit up a place I haven’t been to in a while. Prices are real reasonable.”

Her greedy memory grasped at the strings that tied up a chunk of her past. Hey, think about these, think about us, think of him and her and him and him and him and her. Think of her and her. Think of him. You see the flashes, don’t you? Indulge us. We’re starving. Stop fighting.

But no. This was peace, and it would stay that way. Light and easy, like the smoke billowing from her cigarette. The only thing she could afford to sate was her hunger.

That was funny. This wasn’t what she liked, normally. Normally, she liked to think that depriving herself of food and better clothes and warm water was investing. Putting little pennies of fortune into the piggy bank of the future.

But there was no future.

There was no past.

And Hiachi needed strength to make it through painstaking days of beating back her past and future.

“...I’ll pay for it. I’m feelin’ pretty generous.”

Now that was ridiculous.

Hiachi’s eyebrows went flat, and the corners of her mouth dropped with rightful suspicion. “Uh huh,” She sighed, “Let me know when it’s time for me to answer trivia. Or play black jack. Or get in a bar fight. Or…”

She would keep listing examples of his surprise clauses until he stopped her.

thebigfella · Mar 7, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

Two People Hungover is a Hangover But Three People Hangover Is A Crowd. The Point Is, Everything That Is Bad Is Better With More People To Suffer With You

LOCATION:

South District District

TIME:

January 8th, 2022 | | Pre-Arc 3

PARTCIPANTS:

Hitoshi @joshuadim, Tak

Two People Hungover is a Hangover But Three People Hangover Is A Crowd. The Point Is, Everything That Is Bad Is Better With More People To Suffer With You

“Eeeeh!? W-What do you mean?” The old homeless man blustered out, his hands waving around in front of him defensively. Sweat pooled down his face, and he looked like he might run out of his own skin.

“It was last night, and you both forced yourselves into my tent! You brought a bunch of beer, and we drank and drank!” The old man belated out, defensively raising his shoulders as he tried to scrunch into his tattered shirt like a shell.

“Huh!? You tellin’ us we just forced our way in and started getting plastered with you?! We ain't that dumb!” Tak exclaimed, giving him another shake. He clearly did not believe what the old man was saying, but all he got in response was a whimper: “B-But it’s true!”

Tak dropped the old man in the next second, the feeling of his hangover headache slowly ebbing its way back as he hissed. His vision went blurry, and faint blotches formed together to come to a recollection in his memory.

There Tak was, in some homeless guy’s tent. Dirty clothes and trash surrounded them as he had his arm wrapped around the shoulder of the guy he was now stuck ass-to-ass with, the homeless man on his left side, all three of them singing together, red in the face as they held bottles in their hands, more empty ones littering the ground.

They slurred and shouted what seemed like a song, but instead, it was incomprehensible; it faded as the memory melted away, and Tak was back in reality, and realization glimmered in his eyes.

“Wait a sec…” he mumbled, his head turning to look at the man he was unfortunately attached to. "You…and me…we were there! And we weren’t like this yet!” He exclaimed, a jostle of his rear end emphasizing that they were still tightly bound.

Quickly, he turned back around, grabbed the homeless man by the shoulders, and once again shook him, but this time much more pleadingly and frantic: “Old man, where did we go after that? Do you know?”

The old man’s eyes started to roll freely in his head. He grasped Tak’s wrists weakly as he tried to talk in between his brain, getting rattled by his skull. “I-I don’t know! I think one of you said something about going to a nightclub!?”

“Nightclub!? That’s it!” Tak exclaimed, quickly dropping the man once more and turning to look at Hitoshi out of the corner of his eye.

“Oi, where the hell is the closest nightclub? We’re gonna piece together what the fuck happened and get our asses UNSTUCK!” Tak declared, raising a fist with gritted teeth.

thebigfella · Mar 7, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

“Like hell, I’d wanna do anything like that; I’m fuckin’ beat!”

Tak quickly interrupted her with a sharp rebuttal, taking his hands out of his pockets to start and zip up his jacket. The chill of the night was beginning to cause an outbreak of goosebumps on his skin. He looked at Hiachi silently; the suspicion on her face caused him to purse his lips into a frown, which he did when Tak was flustered. That telltale twitch in his brow came forth as he leaned forward to her slightly.

“What's that look for? You act like there's a catch every time I offer you something!” He defended himself, placing a hand on his chest as he closed his eyes with a cocky smirk, “Don’t forget, I gave you a stick of gum one time! I’m real generous! A goddamn philantro….philly…cilantrophosit!” He exclaimed with another finger jab towards Hiachi’s direction, his other hand coming to mask his face behind his fingers.

“It’s tough being so nice, y’know? But I can’t help but feel sorry for the unfortunate. Shit’s rough, having so many babes who wanna get with my generous ass.”

He continued on his tirade, but then, he suddenly stopped. His hands slowly moved away from his face and dropped down to his side, his other hand sliding into his jacket pocket, his expression deflating, his gaze drifted down to look Hiachi in the eyes.

“I ain’t jokin’ ya know. I’ll really pay for you.”

The sounds of the growing night slowly became muted. The sounds of cars faded into nothingness, the faint buzzing of streetlights swallowed into nothingness. The beating of wings melded with shuffling clothes as Tak began to walk again. His footsteps rhythmically clicked against the cement as he strolled past Hiachi, the breath of wind following behind him.

They went full circle, returning from wherever they came. Was it a waste of time to come this far? Their path had been so brightly illuminated, each streetlight joining together to form a clear walkway through the growing shadows. The sun sat on the opposite horizon while the moon loomed over their shoulders in the darkening sky.

It was a slight detour. But, there was nothing wrong with the road less taken, and even retracing one’s steps always led back to the same place.

Tak’s steps stopped as he reached the edge of the fluorescent glow, the tips of his dirtied shoes being the first to enjoy the light. The corpses of moths at his feet, their wings tattered, and their insides broiled. Some still had faintly twitched their wings, or was that just from the wind?

The rest of his body hung back within the uncertain nightfall.

He looked over his shoulder, a raised brow as he beckoned towards the pathway that was waiting behind them.

“You comin’ or not? It looks like it’s ’bout to rain."

Haze- · Mar 7, 2024

Dante Aguilar

SCENE:

The Amestrian Job

TIME:

July 29th, 2022 | Post Arc 3

LOCATION:

King's Ransom Casino and Bar, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Dagger, Oliver, Jacques, Hiachi, Tak, Dante, Shen, Minato(?)

THE AMESTRIAN JOB

Periodically, every so often, whenever the room grew silent, he'd lift and curl a finger at the slant of light falling onto the armrest of his chair. Watching it blur and warp around his hand, before that same hand idled back down to hook around the umbrella he’d brought.

Bored.

He didn’t know if it was the sheer strength of the Hibernian lilt working its witchcraft on his ear snail, or the clear lack of proper foundations holding their game plan up waning on him, but Dante’s attention had been drifting throughout Madra’s entire spiel. He wasn’t paying attention. Even after he noticed her mouthing his name, he sat in the shadows nodding and grunting.

Slumped in his seat, one hand holding up and lazily splaying the printed innards of a book he’d taken from the cobwebs and dust of his sister’s room, there for him to gawk at whenever he decided to stop pretending like he was listening.

He was bored.

“How the mighty have fallen…” — Dante nodded, grunted. Easing himself into his seat. A hand moving to straighten up the book. Another hand tapping a finger on the armrest.

He only gave a transitory side-eye, one that turned to uncertainty and pressed lips when he realized it was Tak that was taking the talking stick. He knew better than anyone else in the room the types of things that left that guys mouth.

The accent had done something to his ear snail too, looks like.

Dante knocked a knee against Tak’s. He would’ve smacked the bottle right out of his face out of nothing but pettiness, like a 4th grader trying to win the trash-talk competition after the other kid had mentioned something about their mom, but he just didn’t have the energy for it. It was his first real time back in the saddle after being wounded for all those months. First actual job, big pay— he just didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

“Because they can’t expect some crackhead like you to do the actual work, jackass. That’s why you’ll just be out there pretending to do something while Oliver and Dagger do the heavy lifting.” — His head cocked to the side to smirk at him, waving his fingers around the same way — “I can crack open your empty skull real easy, let alone some safe, don’t go doubting my skills. Keep to your lane and look pretty, rookball.”

He patted a hand on Tak’s shoulder, earning the both of them a sudden cackle that echoed in their minds. A shadowy limb shot out behind Dante, cracking and snapping into shape as it bent to mimic Dante, clawed fingers landing on Tak's other shoulder — “K—GYA-HA~! Yer’ just gonna let ‘im talk to ya like that, meat bag? I was you; I’d beat his ass right here right now.”

“What’d I tell you?” — He sighed, inching forward in his seat and into the light. The wolf slid back into Dante’s shadow, whining — “Yeah, yeah— I know. Don’t get handsy. Couldn’t resist~”

He grumbled something under his breath, pushed up on the tip of his umbrella to stand up, walk with it like it were a makeshift cane. He’d gotten used to it, was better than a walking stick, helped with the perpetual limp he’d earned himself after his countless injuries.

“I have a couple of moans and groans, mime lady,” — He’d forgotten her name already, wasn’t planning on asking for it either — “I’m assuming you’ve heard what the guy did to that bridge, eh? You better have a killer back-up plan if y’ think a couple of gates are gonna stop him.”

Dante gave her a glare, a tired look still clear in his eyes — “What is it then? I wanna hear it from you before we go in guns blazing. I’m not a fan of surprises.”

thebigfella · Mar 7, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

They Tell You Not To Mix Chemicals Because You Can Make Mustard Gas, But Nobody Tells You How Mixing People Makes Something More Deadly

LOCATION:

North District

DATE:

July 18th, 2022 | | Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Nao

tityanya , Takakazu

They Tell You Not To Mix Chemicals Because You Can Make Mustard Gas, But Nobody Tells You How Mixing People Makes Something More Deadly

Loud music thrummed through the walls and rattled bones. Hung-up strobes flashed attached to the walls, basking bodies through the flashes of light and the burst of darkness. People were tightly packed in a small room, maneuvering around tables and leaning onto sofas. Red plastic cups were held between fingers, and lines of powder stretched across counters, side by side with bottles, pills, and needles.

Voices barely broke through the music. A couple locked lips and twirled tongues in the corner, grinding up on each other, while a group of guys played beer pong together right nearby, shouting and cheering as one good bounce landed right in the cup, one of them quickly scooping it up and chugging it down.

A door opened, and the sound of a flushing toilet. His hands reached down to adjust the waist of his hands as he strolled out into the kitchen. He weaved through the people with an uninterested look on his face. The sound of retching came from outside the peripheral, and the wet sound of the barf landing on the tiles came from behind him, with people screaming in response. He paid no mind as he b-lined it right for the fridge, pulled it open, and let the light bask across his face. He reached his hand into his cold interior and grabbed one of the cans of beer hanging on the door.

He turned around as the door closed by itself, cracking open the tab and bringing the drink to his lips as he stepped over two partygoers on the ground, staring up at the ceiling as their dilated pupils contracted.

Stains decorated Tak’s shirt, alcohol soaking into his collar, and orange stripes of powdered cheese upon it. He stopped beside the kitchen table to stick his hand into a bowl of potato chips, shoveling a handful into his mouth as he continued to walk. Washing it down with another swig of beer, he made his way into the living room.

The television had something on. Tak glanced at it to see nothing but the DVD logo bouncing across the screen, yet people were staring at it and laughing like it was the funniest thing they had ever seen, more sober members of them only laughing because others were laughing. Tak started before shrugging and continuing on his way.

A man dragged a girl towards the stairs, both of them stumbling their way and having to use the walls to support themselves. Tak tried to squeeze past them, but as the man lost his balance again, he bumped hard into Tak, causing his can to splatter across the ground.

With a click of his teeth, Tak pushed the man off him, as he blubbered out a “Sorry bro…my FUCKING bad, bro. I ain’t mean it…” He said with his drunken remorse, leaning against the wall with his shoulder.

Tak glared at him from the corner of his gaze, but he decided it wasn’t worth it, and with a click of his teeth, he walked off, shoveling his hands into his pockets.

He was never into parties. Not even clubs. At least when he was sober, the flashing lights and loud music annoyed him and the people even more. Interacting with people who were high or drunk annoyed him, especially when he wasn’t sloshed himself. He had drunk a few beers and ales, but he was only getting a slight buzz. Being packed into a small space with so many people wasn’t how he would prefer to spend his night.

But, when he was invited and told there would be free drinks and food, he was already making his way over.

“I was expectin’ more than pizza and cheese curls,” Tak remarked under his breath as he hugged a wall, placing his back against it. He watched people mingle and move within the dining room, which had the most empty space.

“Where the hell is she at?” Tak questioned, a hand reaching up to grab the back of his neck. He hadn’t been able to spot the one who had invited him to this ridiculous party in the first place. Part of him questioned just going ahead and leaving, but he decided against it. Maybe, just maybe, they could order some Messina food or something.

So, he kept his eyes peeled, trying to spot the woman amongst the crowd as he had been for the past few minutes.

Slav · Mar 7, 2024

Rutger Vos

SCENE:

Next Aisle Down

LOCATION:

8th Street Plaza, South District

TIME:

Post-Outbreak || July 12th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Rutger, Pei (

thebigfella ), Jun (

King Crimson )

Next Aisle Down

Despite all of the recent chaos, there wasn't much that could deter Rutger from a sale. While everybody was rushing to purchase essentials, the black haired lad found himself in the perfume outlet. The store was rather quiet and he was enjoying every moment of it. He was able to take his time and determine which one fitted him the best. Rutger found himself looking at floral perfumes, occasionally spraying them into the air to get an idea of their scent. With fifty-percent price cuts, he was going to be spending more than he originally intended.

Placing five different perfumes on the sales counter, Rutger reached into his pocket for a wad of cash. The cashier seemed to be spacing out, causing him to snap in her face to bring her back to planet. "It's not good to slack out on the job, that's how you get thrown under the bus by your boss." While most wouldn't take it literally, Rutger meant it that way. His father would have done that, but luckily he's dead. The cashier started to rush, scanning his items as fast as possible. Rutger's eyes wandered to door, looking at people rush by the clear glass. All this chaos for a few crazy people. He killed people like that on a weekly basis, he wasn't concerned in the slightest.

Once he paid for his goods, he stepped out into the chaos, letting out a sigh. People needed to learn to relax, all this panicking wasn't good for the heart. Rutger reached into his bag to retrieve his favorite perfume out of the five, removing the cap and giving himself a few sprays. Smelling and looking lovely was something he always strived for. His last stop was for some new soap, as he ran out of his favorite brand. Hopefully, there was a sale on it as well.

His light footsteps were drowned out by the masses rushing around him. After someone bumped into him, he turned his head to complain but the person was already rushing further down the hall. Before Rutger could bring his attention to what was in front of him, he found himself bumping into Pei. After he took a step back, he turned his head, his brows furrowing. His face returned to a neutral state as he recognized some of the features of the man who stood in front of him. While his opinion of his own sex was low, he made certain exceptions for those in his own gang and this wacky looking person fit the profile.

Rutger had thought he'd over heard his name before, though he was a bit uncertain. "Is the name Pam? Your ears make you stand out, only a blind person would be able to miss you." Even though the city was big, it wasn't uncommon to meet familiar or semi-familiar faces. Rutger was prepared to slap him just a moment before, his quick thinking saving Pei from the black haired lad's wrath. He didn't like being touched, though he would let it slide because it was an accident. "I'm assuming you are here because of the sales? All these idiots running around here are making it hard to shop. These headless chickens could use some adderall." While Rutger wasn't happy about these people, it was something he would have to unfortunately deal with. Murdering all these people wasn't an option...yet.

Elenion Aura · Mar 7, 2024

RAPHAEL SHAW

SCENE:

Carmine Consort

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1 || 2017

LOCATION:

Outside of Chaturunga Taphouse, North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Raphael, Peyton

CARMINE CONSORT

"Trying to get me out of my clothes, I see."

Raph teased, but didn't deny the idea held merit, and temptation. The cold threatened to cut them both to the bone if they didn't get out of it, and their blood-soaked clothes, soon.

He idly grabbed one of Peyton's raven locks by way of a response, gently twirling it back and forth between his fingers before ultimately letting go with a shrug and a smile made for war. "Why not?"

Raph, having peeled off the outer layer of ruined coat, shirt, and pants and deposited them in a slowly congealing heap in the corner, stood in relative privacy. True privacy was impossible in an apartment that had only one room. Peyton, the consummate gentleman, was facing away from him. Though, on second blush, Raph wasn't entirely sure if that was by design or happy accident.

He padded barefoot across the little room, feet finding the bare spaces of floor amidst the clutter. Raph was almost surprised Peyton still had his back facing him. How trusting, he thought with a wry smile. An exposed back deserved a knife.

Raph leaned forward and draped his bare forearms across Peyton's shoulders. He rested his chin there too, for good measure. The warmth of his body seeped into Raph's skin.

"You know... Tonight's festivities have left my blood running a little hot." He paused, adjusting his face to try and peak over at the other man's expression. "How is it for you?"

Elenion Aura · Mar 7, 2024

MILO NAGISA

SCENE:

Back in the Game

LOCATION:

Post-Arc 3, Timeskip 1 | July 5th

LOCATION:

Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]

PARTICIPANTS:

Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo

BACK IN THE GAME

"Nothing yet," Milo called back, his own frustrations coming through in the strain of his voice. His fingers flexed and relaxed, feeling the cool press of the sketchpad against his skin, slipped between his waistband. His eyes flitted from one panicked face to the next.

Under normal circumstances, he'd have been more focused on ensuring that everyone got out of the park safely. To the people fleeing the scene, escape was all. They only knew that there had been an explosion, not that a girl had been taken.

Under normal circumstances, he'd have been checking to see if any wounded needed a swift exit to receive medical attention. Just then he heard a crackle of a voice over the comms. Charlie? What was he—

"SHE'S HERE! THEY'RE GETTING HER ON THE TRAM!"

Milo's heart skipped a beat, either out of relief or dismay or both, he couldn't be sure. He fumbled to reply, saying quickly into the earpiece as he turned back towards the direction he'd come from, "I'm on my w—"

BOOM!

Another explosion?!

Milo stopped dead in his tracks. From behind? He quickly shifted from nearly losing his balance to pivoting back towards the source of the sound. It was close, closer than the first. If he could—

BOOM!

Before his eyes, a pillar of flame engulfed a fire engine, likely dispatched to battle the blaze from the first blast. Milo's hands curled into fists. He glanced once over his shoulder, visions clouding his vision, of Elizabeth. Of Charlie... With little else to do, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and asked meekly for forgiveness. When he opened them again, he was already moving towards the direction of the blaze.

Whether Elizabeth was held in those flames or not, he couldn't stand idly by any longer as destruction rained all around him.

Charging headlong toward the action, Milo motioned for the art golem Kaibal Tiger to charge a pile of burning slag that had once been a police car, now abandoned and serving as little more than a roadblock.

With a roar, the beast knocked the wreckage aside as Milo cupped his hand to his lips and called out to anyone who could hear him above the din, "This way! Through here, quickly!"

miki · Mar 7, 2024

Hiachi Ito

SCENE:

WYTTTTLBYUFTIFOYIACP

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

June 19th, 2022 | Evening

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiachi, Tak

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

“That’s because there is always a catch,” Hiachi rebutted, not missing a beat as she went to blow smoke out of the corner of her mouth. She was unfazed; he already knew that, and he wouldn’t admit it, but making sure logic was spoken into words was her job.

Even so, she squinted at him as he rambled deeper into his shoddy excuse.

“Yeah right. The only woman in your recent calls list is your mom.” Which was practically true. Hiachi herself was an enemy of the phone call, and Camila was his boss, so that didn’t actually count.

She expected a retort, because that was how it went with Tak. But it ended as quickly as it started. It was like he shut down—or his personality as she knew it did, at least. His hands lowered to his sides and his face lost its electricity. He powered down.

It was no bother. The seriousness of the situation was up to his interpretation—which was basically always hyperbolic. This was a part of the song and dance, too.

At least, she thought it was.

His eyes bore into hers. It felt like cold humidity, wrapping around her and cascading on her skin. Invasive like poison; it resonated like catching the gaze of a panther. For a second, she felt a flash of fear.

For a second, she was scared that he could see through and into her. That wasn’t just wrong—it was the opposite of true. That was her power. If she so wished, she could see herself reflected in the back of his eyes.

But of course she wouldn’t. She looked away and off to the side.

He sounded earnest. There was no response.

She got her silence, and she hated it more than anything in the world.

She quickened her pace to catch up with Tak, taking small skips to make sure she couldn’t stray too far from him. The rubber soles of her sneakers scuffed against the concrete when she dragged her feet, but she didn’t bother trying to stop.

She shut her eyes. There had to be something to fill the silence.

“How long do you think this will take? I don’t wanna be out late.”

That was true.

She needed more questions.

“Why do you want hibachi, anyway? That takes forever. Arkar’s place has takeout. And you owe him money.”

Hiachi was prolonging something. She didn’t know what it was herself, but she knew that the way words stumbled out of her mouth felt clumsy. Desperate.

She couldn’t bring herself to go further, now that she knew herself so well. Silence was comfortable agony.

Past the circle of street lights was the dark path. Her pace had matched her to his side, now that she held the advantage of scotopic adaptation. He led the direction, and she led the way. So they walked close to side by side.

When they approached the restaurant, Hiachi didn’t even realize it. The building was flat. It was only one story tall, with a gabled roof with black accents. A layer of chipping blue paint coated the outer walls. There was no visible signage—wherever it once was was eroded by the elements.

It wasn’t the image that matched a hibachi restaurant in her head.

She was relieved, in a way. Hiachi knew it wasn’t possible, but in case it was, the fear in her subconscious sat on edge. But this place wasn’t familiar. It was in a part of town she had never been to before. Amongst the grime and rubble, she felt safe.

She nodded at the entrance before burying the remnants of her cigarette into the top of a trash can.

thebigfella · Mar 8, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Tak didn’t look behind. The sounds of Hiachi’s approaching stride getting closer told him she was coming up to him. He allowed himself to slow down, letting her take her spot at his side rather than trailing behind like usual.

Back to his thoughtless self, his pinkie rose up to dig into his ear, poking around for earwax as his eyes looked aimlessly around, contrasting the sure steps of his feet. His wandering gaze and empty-minded look only changed when Hiachi spoke again to push away the silence Tak was undisturbed by, her questions earning a cursory glance from the disheveled-looking tiger. “Oi, oi. I’m sittin’ here offering to treat you, and you’re still bitching? Did your parents never teach you basic human emotions like gratitude?” He chided dryly, taking his pinkie out of his ear to roll a bead of earwax between his thumb before flicking it off in the distance.

“It’s not like we’re goin’ drinking or anything. I doubt they’re gonna have many customers at this time. We’ll be in and out,” for once, and maybe for the first time ever, he assured her worries. A silent exhale of sight through his nose as his uneven posture straightened up, wrapping his arms behind his neck as he rocked side to side with each step.

“I’m gettin’ tired of that cyclops’ curry. He makes his old man’s food taste bad with all the shit he talks, and I don’t want him complainin’ bout me payin’ for you and not paying anything I owe him,” Tak spoke plainly, his eyes closed as the simple thought of Arkar’s face make him scowl lightly. He had always used Arkar as a place to ensure he’d have a meal whenever Takwas dried up, though he’d never admit his gratitude. The more Tak thought about it, the more it put a bad taste in his mouth, knowing the money he could save going there in comparison. It only led to his teeth gritting, brows tightening, and the corners of his lips quivered before he finally exclaimed his frustrations.

“I just want hibachi, damnit! I’m allowed to treat myself!”

It was a shout at Hiachi just as much as it was for himself, causing some birds to fly out from trees and soar away from the phone lines. His booming voice is always ten more decibels higher than needed.

And just like that, he went silent again, his sharp glower stuck on his face as clear thoughts continued to swirl in his head. Though the form was amorphous and unshapely, it was only after another deafening beat of nothing being said that he finally felt himself right enough to speak again.

“My mom used to take me to hibachi sometimes…”

His tone was dull. From high volume, he dropped to barely audible. His eyes opened to reveal his uninhabited look.

And then, they reached the building. The familiar sight of the aging building, an outside demanding maintenance that received no such love. From the outside, it looked like any other building, but the inside was where the treasure lay. A glow of light through the windows was all the indication he needed as he stepped forward to push the doors open; the creaking hinges beckoned him further, and so did the soft lighting.

And for a moment, a smile came across his lips before it was consumed by the light.

thebigfella · Mar 8, 2024

Zentsupa Pei

SCENE:

Next Aisle Down

LOCATION:

8th Street Plaza, South District

TIME:

Post-Outbreak || July 12th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Rutger

Slav , Jun

King Crimson , Pei

Next Aisle Down

Blonde hair moved through the crowds in focus. Pei didn’t need to bob and weave like others, as the people seemed to move seamlessly around him. His slouched posture strode along; his distinctive features, plus the monstrous demonic bat creature on his shoulder, made him stand out. Not as if he was trying to blend in. He was waiting for someone to show themselves, and poking out as much as possible would make things easier for him.

He was also looking for someone else—an unexpected player on the board but a fun wild card nonetheless. He thought there would be no harm in bringing them into the fun if they happened to cross paths.

“Kekekekek,” Pei cackled under his breath as he looked down at his phone, multiple screens of security camera recordings at his fingertips. He swapped between the different perspectives with taps until he spotted himself on the camera.

His eyes lit up as he spotted something on the screen, and with a click, his phone was off and back into his pocket. He shifted his walk, and his straightforward gait shifted sideways until he was swallowed by more of the crowd. He disappeared, only to reappear right as he stepped behind a figure he was letting himself become more familiar with.

The flow of the crowd was disrupted by someone rushing through everyone else, running down the walkway in a rush and fading among the masses, but this short disturbance broke up the cohesion, and with a pause of the raven-haired man in front of him, they made an impact.

Pei didn’t stumble backward from their light connection; he stopped himself in place, the crowds moving around them as they froze within the stream. Pei’s snaggletoothed grin didn’t go anywhere, even during Rutger’s initial reaction of disdain. Recognition dominated any impulsive decision, and Pei was left standing unscathed for now.

“Kekekekek. I’m here for much more than just sales,” Pei didn’t bother to correct him about his name, shifting his stance to stand sideways, facing away from Rutger to look at the nearby storefronts, taking his hands out of his pocket as he raised one of his spindly fingers to tap at his forehead, “Why bother with sales when you can just have…” He lifted his arms before bringing them back down in front of his face, his twisted grin barely hidden behind his thin fingers and jagged nails.

“Everything you want for free!? Kekekekekekek!”

Pei’s ominous laughing continued longer than needed, his mouth wide open as he continued to laugh like a madman. He got awkward looks like the madman he was before he abruptly stopped, looking towards Rutger with a devilish leer. A woman ushered her child along as he stopped to stare at the Phoenix.

“Won’t be long til this mall erupts in chaos, and I plan on takin’ everything I want and strollin’ right out the front door! Kekekek!” Pei declared, placing his hands on his hips as he leaned forward toward Rutger, “If you’re planning on shopping here, you might as well participate in my “game”! After all, we’re going to be the only winners! Kekekekekek!”

He looked at Rutger expectantly, and whether he said yes or no made no difference to him. After all, considering what would happen, he’d find himself in the middle of the game regardless.

However, it was nice to kill time waiting for his “other player” to arrive, making friends with another Phoenix, one of his favorite pastimes.

thebigfella · Mar 8, 2024

Brut (NPC)

CS Link

SCENE:

Losers!

LOCATION:

East District, Skate Park

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 || June 11th, 2022

PARTICIPANTS:

Pei, Javi

Losers!

The sounds of squeaking bike horns roared through the skatepark. And with it was the frenzied laughter of the yankees.

“GYAAAAAAHAAAAAAA!”

A long tongue stuck out of a green mouth, flapping in the wind as the wheels of their tricycle screeched across the skatepark. A whole crew of other pint-sized delinquents in tow on their own tricycles. Many of them wore sunglasses and bright and flashy bosozoku jackets. Flags adorned on the back wheels fluttered through the wind with decals and emblems while decals and polish coated the bodies of their tricycles.

Their plastic burning across the park left a plume of smoke behind. Their wheels knocked the debris out of the way they had scattered around, and plastic wrappers and food scraps flew through the air as they peeled around the block.

Cheering echoed from the series of bleachers lined at the edges of the park, other members of these delinquents relaxing on the metal benches, empty bottles and cans littered around them as they watched with themselves leaned back and carefree.

“OOORYRAH!” A rough shout came from another of the lizard-like pompadour-wearing creatures as he took a wooden katana and slammed it against a trash can, the contents spilling across the ground as the metal hull rattled against the cement. He cackled under his breath, glossing his hands across the “blade” end of the katana as he looked at the damage it did with a satisfied grin. Nearby, more rowdies shook their spray paint cans, the sound of the ball bearing inside shaking around before they began to spray colors across the bathroom wall. With ferocity, they moved around until they were overtaken by a large plume of colorful smoke, obscuring them and only leaving the sounds of their spraying, until they stopped and finally dissipated, revealing their art pieces.

One of them was a self-artistic rendition of the cat crouched down, showing off his back covered in tattoos, demons, and dragons painted into his flesh, while next to him, a duck in a bandana and torn hoodie had drawn a crude image of a woman’s half-naked woman with a duck’s body barely covering her good bits with her wings.

They both gave each other a thumbs-up and ran off to express their artistry elsewhere.

“Alright, you guys ready!? Pull!” A loud shout came from another part of the park, the perspective weaving through the tubes and going up and down the bowl to reveal a bunch of the delinquents amassed around a makeshift slingshot, a tire placed right in the sling as they pulled it back, using the railings of a ramp to keep it in place. The sounds of stretching elastic and exertion as they all worked in unison to pull it back, the rubber growing thinner and thinner as they made more and more distance.

“Alright, LET GOO!” order came from the crowd of tiny vandals, and as they all stepped back, the wheel went flying up the ramp and soaring through the air, flying high in the sky before it came crashing down like a meteor, landing right on the roof of someone’s sports car. The alarms blared, and the whole roof caved in on itself.

Unapologetically, the delinquents cackled at their work, giving each other high fives as they walked away with no remorse, finding the next thing they could destroy in their rampage.

They had completely taken over the skatepark, leaving kids to look through their windows in despair at once being theirs. Some even hung around the gates with their fingers in the bars, looking longingly with their skateboards under their shoulders.

“This isn’t fair!” Came an enraged shout from outside the perimeter of a skatepark, a can crushed between his fingers. Familiar neon-green skateboard wheels leaning against the bench he sat at. His other friends were around, staring into the skatepark sadly as they were stuck outside.

“We shouldn’t be out here!” Moe exclaimed, standing up as he stomped towards the fence. He pointed a finger towards the park as he looked at his friends. "We should be in there! Tearing up the park like we always did!”

“There’s not much we can do. Those things won’t let any of us in without chasing us off with their bikes,” one of his friends lamented, playing with the straw of his juice box between his teeth as he looked up towards the sky.

“They even scared our dads when they tried to do something. Alvin’s dad still has a huge bald spot on his head,” another one of the boys remarked, sprawled out on the ground as he sighed.

Moe listened to their complaints, but it didn’t loosen his tightened fists, his teeth gritted, a deepening scowl growing on his features.

“Well, I’m not going to let them do whatever they want! There has to be something we can do!” Moe declared, turning to look at his friend with his fist placed in the front of his chest. "We have to take our skatepark back! It’s our hangout spot! Who’s with me?”

None of the group bothered to look at him. Only one kid raised his hand, and when he saw he was the only one, he quickly dropped it, looking around as if he hadn’t done anything.

Moe’s posture drooped, and his head dropped. Was no one really going to do anything?

It was enough to make him cry. And he began to sniffle in frustration.

CasualTea · Mar 8, 2024

Yona Kowloong

TIME:

2022, July 22nd

SCENE:

Thou Shalt Not Detonate Sicario - The Beast

LOCATION:

Pleasure District Sewers, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

THE POPE

Vorifengrous , Lloyd

Jexon Whells , Renjiro

Beann , Yona (Me) , Aerith

Thou Shalt Not Detonate

Another day, another set of problems. In the pleasure district, activity always was on a high. The underground apparently was no different. As the group Yona was bundled up with moved towards the entrance, they can definitely hear the source of all the problems they would have to deal with today. She wasn't particularly overjoyed that she'd be fighting in the sewers once again rooting out serpents. What was it and these people picking the sewers every time?

Lloyd had his attempt at humor while he engaged his Potential. She gave a soft chuckle as she readied her sword and a couple of ice throwing knives in her hands. With experience from the last mission, she held back behind Lloyd allowing him to pave the way and burst through their defenses and she can finish them off while they're down.

Once the entrance was opened up, the voices stopped altogether and the Pope announced his presence. Another mission where stealth won't be on the table. As holy as it sounded, she didn't listen to him and only paid attention to the darkness ahead. Soon enough, they began to hear a thud. Followed by more. Their little protest continued to sound from deep within.

"There it is. The beast."

She said giving a cold glare into the abyss. In return, it was do the same towards them. As she waited for the greenlight for them to clear the hole, she held her weapons firm and steady. Ready to take on the wretched serpents once more.

miki · Mar 8, 2024

Eisyu Ito (NPC)

SCENE:

WYTTTTLBYUFTIFOYIACP

LOCATION:

East District | Hibachi Bar

DATE:

June 19th, 2022 | Evening

PARTICIPANTS:

Eisyu, Hiachi, Tak

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

It was a slow night on its own. People normally didn’t come in large numbers on weekdays. It had hit the elusive hour, too. He called it the twilight zone—when it wasn’t night or day, and there were no customers around.

Eisyu Ito was there alone, scrubbing burns off of the flat metal grills. He had loosened his uniform around the collar, but he still wore the hat. He was no hibachi chef without it.

The rhythmic back and forth motion of cleaning was good for his head. He got too somber when he wasn’t working. Completing tasks helped keep that somber feeling at bay. In a weird way, he felt addicted to working—which Yuukari would argue is a good thing, most likely.

Earlier, one of his younger coworkers asked, Hey, Mr. Ito, are you sure you want to close? It’s pretty late. He doubted the old man’s resolve, and he took quiet pride in the fact that despite that doubt, he would still get the job done. Then he asked, Won’t your family miss you? and the comment lost its luster.

“Maybe if it was a decade ago,” he had sighed. Back when he had a house full of kids to return to. His wife could manage herself fine without him, but his kids? “Back then, if I had a late shift, my kids wouldn’t go to bed until I got back.”

That was a nice feeling. They cared if he was okay, and they cared if he was there. With them.

Things had changed quickly, and right under his nose. His sons were busy most of the time. He was lucky if he could catch a phone call with them these days. His eldest son called every Sunday at 12 PM sharp, like a chore. He had only seen his middle son recently because he had gotten trapped in a HP attack—which was enough to give Eisyu a heart attack on its own. And he hadn’t seen his youngest son’s face in… months, at this point.

His daughters were worse. His youngest daughter spent so much time out of the house now. When he asked if she was doing okay, all he got in response were sighs and accusations that he saw her as frail. And his eldest daughter…

The young man didn’t press further. Probably because he didn’t want to close the shift himself. Which meant the comment had only come from pity.

He didn’t let it get to him. Those who learned of his tragic paternal tales could react however they wished. He appreciated it when people listened, but he didn’t put much thought towards those who didn’t.

He kept scrubbing away diligently, making sure the grills were cleaned crevice to crevice. It was a small thing, but it mattered to him.

He perked up at the sound of the small jingle from the door.

He saw the ghost of a smile on the face of one of his old regulars. He immediately knew who it was—Tak was as strange a fellow as he was unforgettable..

As he moved closer, Eisyu could see a young woman trailing directly behind him. He usually came alone, and listened to Eisyu’s rambles. He was good company whenever he came. It puzzled him, but it bothered him none. He would happily entertain whatever occasion it was.

“Good evening,” He greeted, a light happiness growing in his tone. “Who is this you’ve brought with you?”

He looked up to see that the young woman froze far behind. Her arms were locked at her side, and she stood perfectly still. The glint of her unflinching eyes dug into him.

Eisyu squinted to see her better. He could see better in the light, but still couldn’t make out her face.

thebigfella · Mar 8, 2024

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

His senses were assaulted immediately. Remnants of familiarity, wisps of nostalgia for times that weren't far gone, the smell of oil burning onto the grill, the aromas of soy sauce cajoled with the sting of freshly sliced green onions.

Tapestry lined the walls, stretched in wooden frames, and ukiyo-e drawings were taken from woodblock to canvas. Sliding doors closed off private dining areas, and an artificial lantern light illuminated the tables and chairs inside.

A nearby bar with tiny wooden stools, shelves lined with brightly colored bottles, lights placed behind installed in the walls illuminated the glass and the precise contents inside, kanji characters that made up the label on display. Wooden boards hung beside an old television, soundlessly displaying a football game.

Tak stepped up onto the elevated platform, his shoes scuffing against the unvarnished floors, pushing the small fabric drapes that hung in front of the entrance to the main room out of his way, letting his eyes take in the surroundings, placing his hand against the wall of the sushi bar which had been closed down for the night, leaning his weight onto it as he heard a familiar acknowledgment.

“Yo. Still kickin’ round here, old man?” Tak returned his greeting with a casual raise of his hand, “Good, don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. Food wouldn’t be as good, I’ll tell you that.”

Tak grinned at the chef. He knew he had a soft spot for the older guy, but he had no clue what it was. It was one of the reasons Tak liked hibachi: having the food made in front of you was plainly just better. Getting a firsthand smell of the aromas and the freshly cooked ingredients meant you got the food the best it could be; at least, that’s the reason, he thought.

Still, if he was only there for the food, why did he bother listening to the geezer talk about his life and problems? From any other worn-out grandpa, he would have wanted to tear his tongue out, rambling about how his complaining and rambling was ruining the taste of his meal. Instead, he didn’t feel anything. In fact, he found himself enjoying things more.

It reminded him of another old guy he used to know who never knew when to shut up. His food was always good; he’d cook it for you right there where you could see it and would give it to you even if you couldn’t pay.

There it was again, those blinding memories. A blank void, a bright glow from within nonexistence. Blurred figures appeared within an elderly man with glasses and a large mole on his face, a scrappy-looking kid in tattered clothes, and his unkempt nest of hair hiding his features. Only a counter separated them both, and a steaming hot bowl of curry was placed between them.

And as quickly as it appeared, it faded away, and reality melted back into vision. Tak was still here, in the present. His hand brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

He reminded him a bit of that guy. He guessed that’s what it was.

“Oh yeah,” Tak pulled himself out from his own ruminations, stepping forward and giving a quick nod of his head toward the figure following right behind him, “I brought…,” the words came a bit stilted out of his lips, a moment of contemplation what was the right word to use. She was more than an acquaintance, that’s for sure. Was she much more than that…?

No, she wasn’t, Tak quickly decided.

A woman like her, who was so stiff and demure, always bringing the mood down with her energy, mood, and general slug-like tendencies, didn’t put him in his good graces. She didn’t know a thing about her, and she didn’t understand a thing about him. The only thing they had in common was their affiliation and the disordered state of his department.

The only reason he had brought her along was because he felt pity. His inner consciousness, the pain it was, wouldn’t be satisfied just leaving her on the side of a road in the East like a stray puppy.

“...a coworker.”

He finally finished his statement, shifting to the side to let Hiachi enter the spotlight, expecting her to introduce herself.

???

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Wheels spun, silver rims banded like webs, and the cascading lights from lamp posts reflected off its sheen. The dark metallic paint was glossed with glow as it drove down the road, the thrumming of its engines a dull roar that echoed through the alleys and down the streets. Headlights illuminated the way forward, the unknown path ahead obscured within a deep, all-encompassing darkness as the car moved along to unknown places.

The window opened, and the faint orange of a cigarette flew through the air. The drag from the speeding vehicle put the end out before it could even hit the ground, spreading ashes across the ground.

And then, the perspective was inside the car, the sounds of the radio echoing through the interior. A gloved hand reached to adjust the rearview mirror, revealing the empty backseat and the lifeless road behind. Eyes covered by sunglasses were peering into it, and the rest of the body was obscured within shadows. The hand placed itself back onto the steering wheel.

The radio music stopped, and the ringing of a cell phone dial replaced it; the man kept his eyes on the road as he reached to push the accept call button on the touchpad of his dashboard, a faint glow coming from the knobs and buttons that made it up.

There was a moment of silence as the call was accepted before a voice finally came from the speakers.

“Has it been taken care of yet?” A gruff voice wrought with age, worn down from cigarettes and other things inhaled, came through. Its coarseness was not even adequate to be compared to sandpaper; it grated through the air.

Before responding, the man in the car turned up the volume dial. “Unfortunately not,” he said in a thick Libere accent. "He was a bit more than I expected. He finished that “job.” He even dealt with the ambush."

“And he isn’t aware that it was a set-up?”

“Based on what the one who was still conscious said, he punched first and never asked questions.”

The man leaned back into the seat of his car, his eyes looking off into the night.

“Some of the others and I are looking for him. He couldn’t have gotten far, but we have to be careful. This is Dragon territory, after all.”

“Hmph. Just make sure he’s disposed of. And quickly.”

“Insects like him aren’t even useful as tools. It’s only a matter of time until he does something that will cause a problem.”

The dial tone sounded as the call shut off, leaving the car in silence before the music kicked back on. The man chuckled to himself as he shook his head at the conversation.

“Always so business-like. How hard is it to just say you want revenge?”

The man pushed down onto the gas, and as the perspective flew out from the window, the car sped off into the darkness of the night.

Nobody Special · Mar 8, 2024

BASH HIRABAYASHI