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

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Sang-Cheol Man
SCENE:
Reparation
LOCATION:
Ruined Bridge, North/East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton, Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine
Reparation

Why am I even here?

That was the question Sang-Cheol pondered as he drove to the designated location. Lately, he had nothing more than a variety of bad days crashing onto him. From the fiasco to the Center, his lab was being destroyed again, and his mind had pounding headaches. Each one hammered down onto what sliver of rationality he had left, and now Queen was trying to call him up for some bullshit he probably didn't care about.

"Fuck's sake, if you're going to type a message, at least make it formal," Sang-Cheol fumed to himself. "Give us a goddamn address, not a vague description of 'the fucked up bridge.' If I didn't know any better, I thought Queen was projecting." The message Sang-Cheol sent, however, completely contrasted with his rant.

Understood. Arriving at North-East Bridge Li in ten minutes.
Sang-Cheol would have had to transport himself from the district's West side to the East. There was sinking suspicion that Bash had some sort of vendetta against him for making him partake in a several-hour-long drive that would no doubt devolve into a stupid brawl midway through. That idea was thrown out since Sang-Cheol didn't think that Bash had the mental capacity for it.

Thankfully, Sang-Cheol was nearby when the message was sent. He had some business with a few other labs around the area and was about to head back until Queen called him in for his little negotiation.

After this fiasco, Sang-Cheol's plans would no longer be delayed. The mission that his professor gave to him would soon make progress. His progress in locating the former Queen was going well. He had been making investigations, and they were about to bear fruit. He needed a few more weeks or months to assemble everything.

That would have been too late. Parking the car, he slammed the door as he exited out. "This better be fucking good," Sang-Cheol muttered to himself. The moment this place was going to turn into a shit show, Sang-Cheol was going to leave.

"Lab Icarus Head, Matchsticks, present." In a casual tone that wasn't loud enough for everyone to hear, Sang-Cheol was one of the last ones to arrive by the time he announced it. He had entered around when Bash finished giving his defunctive orders. As Bash turned around to gape, Sang-Cheol grew curious and looked over. There was no one of note other than the Dragon King, but he felt like he'd seen some of them before.

"Not my problem," Sang-Cheol muttered to himself. This was the Queen's problem, after all. Sang-Cheol's presence was like a student attending a lecture, only there for the attendance check.
 
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RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Reparations
TIME:
Post-Outbreak, July 21st, 2022
LOCATION:
Ruined Bridge, North/East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton, Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine
REPARATIONS
Raph's smirk only widened in response to Bash's well-intentioned but ultimately fruitless warning. Despite whatever the fledgling Queen believed, Raph knew this little charade could only end in blood... Least of all, because the Serpents had never been particularly good at a little thing called... 'Diplomacy'.

When it seemed like Bash wanted some kind verbal acquiescence, Raph, ever the contrarian, mimed 'zipping his lips and throwing away the key'! Whether that satisfied the... Queen... Or not, he didn't particularly care. A point he emphasized by speaking immediately after.

"I am so very much looking forward to it all going to shit. ~"

... When the opposing force came into view, Raph had a decidedly less... Violent internal reaction to the sight of one dark-haired woman. Huh. Looks familiar. He shrugged and thought nothing more of it as his eyes inadvertantly drifted to the man at the center of the Dragon's formation.

In spite of himself, Raph felt a chill trickle down his spine.

In spite of himself, he gulped.

His pulse quickened. His eyes dilated. For a moment, he felt as if the whole world had fallen away, as if there was no barrier between him and that man and his overwhelming intensity.

gLGAM2M.png

In spite of himself, in that moment, Raph felt grateful for once that Bash had assumed the mantle of Queen... If only because, for now, he stood between the Dragon King and him.

 
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RURIKO IKEDA
SCENE:
Reparations
TIME:
Post-Outbreak, July 21st, 2022
LOCATION:
Ruined Bridge, North/East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton, Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine
REPARATIONS
For some wack ass reason, the filthy snakes thought they were deserving of an audience with the Dragon King. What could have sparked such a feeling of entitlement? Their precious, more like dilapidated, drug lab got destroyed? It was already deteriorating, the Dragons just helped speed up the process.

Normally, Ruriko wouldn't be so pressed about attending such a trivial meeting. She felt things were best left up to leadership. However, considering it concerned Shen and the fact that she was one of the few Dragons that escaped the destruction of Lab Icarus, she felt obligated to show face.

“You really shouldn't entertain their nonsense, Shen.” She huffed out as the two waited at Dragon HQ, waiting for the other gang members that were expected to be in attendance. Really it was the job of the Jack and the Ace to handle such petty matters but there was never any point in telling Shen what to do. He typically did what he pleased and though it may annoy Ruriko at times, the only thing she could really do was give her opinion and support him no matter what.

“It’ll be all right, Ru Ri.”

Once the rest of the Dragons showed up, Ruriko wasted no time opening a portal for them to step through. Better to get this over with after all.

Out the other end of the portal, a destroyed bridge greeted them. It reminded Ruriko of the other bridge Shen had destroyed, the one connected the east to the south. It also reminded her of the argument with Kanna — she felt like their friendship had never been the same after that. The veteran didn't dwell longer on that thought though as she spotted a familiar face among the Serpents that waited for them.

Her face immediately dropped any intimidating expression it held and she could feel her blood run cold.

‘No way…’

She stared at her friend, Bash, or who she thought was her friend. Did he know? Did he just choose to hide his affiliation with the Serpents from her? Her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she started to jump to every conclusion possible.

Some friend he was.

Ruriko remained closely behind Shen as Bash approached their group, eyeing him with a mixture of anger and confusion. “Handshakes are for after deals are made.” She muttered, more so for her king to hear rather than insulting Bash outright. Honestly though, who would want to shake hands with a Serpent?

Shen only nodded. Wordlessly, he reached for the other fellow’s outstretched hand and shook it.

 
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Passeri Park
SCENE:
Playing With Fire
TIME:
July 17th, 2022
LOCATION:
Discreet Van, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger, Vulken, Yong-Yut
Playing With Fire
One blink. Two. A swift assessment of the unexpected and then a shift of expectations to match. That almost involuntary celebrity light blossomed within Passeri's eyes, alongside a smile bright enough to match.

"Well isn't this a surprise!" Passeri bent her knees to match the smaller of Vulken's plus-twos' height. "You know, I was a bit worried about my plus one, but it looks like I should've bought another! What do you think, Alisa? Could we call over a playmate for the little lady here?" That wasn't an offer she could've lived up to. She didn't even know any children she could've summoned for her to play with. "Though, you know what they say- Five is a pair, but six is a crowd! No, it's not, but hey! I booked a big table anyway!"

Her legs were straight again, and her gait composed. She liked company like this. Strangers and acquaintances. They were easy to keep the act up around.

"So sorry about mine, by the way! Ever since the incident the Prez has been off his rocker. Nowhere without company, especially meetings with strange men at izakayas." All of it was a lie. The day anyone from the studio got involved with any of this dour business involving New Oasis's underworld was the day that she rolled over in her grave. "Alisa's lovely, though! She's my... PA, I guess? The Prez wanted me to hire out one of those big musclebound hulks of a bodyguard, but like, jeez, right? Can you imagine? I'm sitting there signing a t-shirt, and then there's some guy with muscles the size of my head looming over my shoulder? Like, yikes. Sometimes I wonder how that old geezer ever got things off the ground like he did."

There was an enthusiastic clap of her hands, and then a soft, smooth invitation to follow her lead as Passeri pushed aside the noren which decorated the shop's entrance. Booking a big table had been an understatement. Despite the day sitting on the cusp of noon, the shop sat empty. She'd reserved the entire place, after all. This wasn't the sort of thing that paid to have prying ears listening in on.

"We're in the back, 'kay? Order whatever you want, it's on me! I hear they've got a great melon soda if you've got a taste for sweets." The room she led the group into was divided from the rest of the restaurant, a private booth usually reserved for business parties, and large enough to seat at least twice their number. Though her guests didn't yet know it, Passeri supposed that this technically was what this was too.

She took the seat closest to the door. Just in case.

"By the way- Have we met before?" She addressed the taller of Vulken's guests. The actual adult. Some faint spark of recognition flared in the back of her mind, though she was rather sure the person she was recalling had owned far more hair. Another of the Phoenixes, she was guessing. In the case of this going south, she was glad that she'd had the foresight to bring along help. She'd probably seen her on that day on the bridge, but it didn't hurt to be sure.

"I love your style, by the way! And sorry if we've done the meet and greet before. I've been *so* scattered lately, you know?"

 
Tak, Camila, Wallet (NPC)
SCENE:
It’s Altruistic To Say “What’s Mine is Yours” Until They Try To Take Home Your Refrigerator With Them.
LOCATION:
West District
TIME:
June 27th, 2022 | | Post-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Camila, Lenras, Markus, Ryutaro, Samira, Lorette, Dagger, Baba
It’s Altruistic To Say “What’s Mine is Yours” Until They Try To Take Home Your Refrigerator With Them.

”We’re sitting here tonight with one of the brightest minds in Amesteria, the woman who is heralding what could possibly be the most significant medical discovery in the century--”

Charismatic voice, chords trained on years of repeating the same pleasantries over again. His bright smile shone within the barriers of a glowing screen, an ironed suit whose meticulousness seemed rendered fruitless upon the low quality of the projection.

The set he sat on and the desk he sat behind separated him from the viewers; it wedged a gap between him and the camera crew and set the barrier between the haves and have-nots. The haves were the ones who sat behind the desk and commanded the show, the thoughts, and the world. The set was theirs and no one else’s.

The host turned his eyes towards the seat across from him as he leaned forward in his chair. The camera zoomed out on cue, and their guest came into display. A woman who looked as plain and homely as any type you could walk across the street, for her haves were not within the realm of beauty but the world of knowledge. Glasses were on her face, arms placed in her lap as her legs were kept crossed, a casual outfit that told nothing about her life, and her glossy bronzed skin illuminated under the bright lights of the late-night shows.


“Mrs. Mckay’s research has saved the lives of many children! Her discovery has found a method to reduce the genetic illness percentage in her patients by…how much was it again?”

The voices came through the old speakers of the T.V. hung within the corner, shot slowly panning out to reveal its placement in some dingy bar. The patrons paid no attention to what was on, and there was nothing but background noise for another night of drinking. Their lives were unchanged, unaffected, for they were the have-nots. Liquor-filled glasses and run-down gullets, mumbled voices of discussion slowly began to overpower the sounds of the television until it had become entirely muted.

The chatter slipped out of the open door, mingling with the summer heat. Footsteps echoed across the pavement, silhouettes strolled past the open door, and faint light basked their forms, illuminating them from the side.

The tired eyes of Tigers, the fatigue of a recently finished job. An easy prey that had spiraled out of control and had left the predators with more than they could hope to eat. Their bellies were full, but it took more work than it should have.

It was unwelcome but expected. It was the norm for a certain man who seemed to bring misfortune everywhere. His knack for bringing trouble seemed to cling to him like the tail of a donkey. The world hated him, and from the look on his face, he hated it back. He looked towards the sky with neutral scorn, hands in his pockets as his whole body spoke of sourness, and so did his smell. The smell of iron, blood that wasn’t his own splattered into his shirt, more wrinkles than usual in his jacket, fresh stains of dirt that covered the old ones that had been washed and dried into the material.

His muscles ached, and his knuckles cracked inside his pockets as he shifted around. The adrenaline of battle had worn off and left him as aimless as ever. The time of youth that enjoyed taking cheap shots and wiping off smirks had long since passed. It was no longer a hobby; it had become work, and just like any job, it had been tiring, boring, and unfulfilling.

When he learned he could make money just by beating people up, he thought he had discovered his purpose. But every time, he was quickly and swiftly reminded that after the fight was over, he had gained nothing over the person at his feet.

With a sigh, he slid a hand out of his pocket, a bruised hand rubbing the back of his neck as his grayish-blue eyes blinked. A quiet walk home was something he was used to, but today, he licked his wounds with another. It was becoming a ritual, with employers and employees wandering the streets at night together after a moderately well-done job. But it wasn’t a celebration. It was just business, a simple departure from the scene until they had gotten far away enough to safely split into their own ways, where they would leave and meet and do the whole thing over again.

Amid this monotonous gang life, Tak couldn’t help but wonder…


“I wonder if I can get home before my soaps start,” he mumbled, his hand falling limply at his side as he slowed his pace of walking. He glanced behind him towards the woman he had graciously been ‘escorting’ this whole time, the vet who had helped him not starve to death like a stray dog on the street with no owner.

“What about you? What are you gonna do when you get home? Chill and watch a movie or somethin’?”

Emerald eyes found themselves lost in following the dim street lights, jumping from one to the other, until the woman they belonged to found herself staring blankly at the dark, starry horizon. Lethargy was written all over Camila’s body language as she kept up with the pace of the young man beside her. In contrast to Takakazu, the silver-haired woman was left way less of a mess by the end of the day; some dirt and dust scattered across her white attire were all that the regular on-looker might notice to be out of the ordinary, evidence of her more hands-off approach to dealing with nuisances. After all, why use one’s hands when you had a long tail just as capable, if not even more, and a trusty knuckle-head ready to take the brunt of it for her.

“All that’s on my mind right now is a long, warm bath,” She responded, her voice denoting both a lack of energy or enthusiasm, whether such tone was the product of an unsavory work day or the mere apathy towards the monotony of the daily struggle, that was up for debate.

“After that? Dunno may cook something up if there’s any good shit in the fridge.” The slender trail of smoke coming out of her cigarette became clearer as Camila stepped under a streetlight, the tiny cloud warping the light that passed through it.

“Hooo…” A neutral sound of interest came from Tak as he heard Camila’s plans. It was nothing but small talk, something that Tak could enjoy one day but hate the next.

“I wish I had a bath, or hot water, for that matter,” Tak said, his eyes moving upwards to look towards the stars as he sauntered. He had no shame admitting his struggles to Camila; she was the only one keeping him from a worse scenario. In his current position, even leftovers sounded lavish. He had grown used to scrounging together whatever he could, eating whatever crumbs he could discover.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to visualize his apartment: the pile of dirty clothes in the corner, pin-up mags on the table supporting a greasy pizza box. A couch with lumps and stains next to a carpet covered in mud. He put the pieces together until his brain could link to the kitchen, ignoring the stack of dishes toppling out of his sink with old stuck-on food and trash bags filled with takeout paper and styrofoam to instead focus on his visualization of the fridge.


“I think I got some…leftover canned ravioli in the fridge…I can probably take that and make a ravioli sandwich with some of that stale bread I got,” he vocalized his dinner plans, his featureless eyes dropping away from the sky to look back forward.


“That sounds absolutely horrid; your tastebuds might get irreparably damaged if you keep that up,” She retorted nonchalantly; she was harsh and abrasive, her words lacking any sort of sugarcoating. However, in a way, the fact that she responded so casually might just be proof that, in a way, she somewhat trusted Tak enough for her to be herself around him, for the most part.

“You know,” She remarked, another puff of smoke escaping between her perky lips. “You could probably afford a bath if you weren’t spending so much of your earnings getting piss drunk every other day.” Even if it was his own money, the veteran still found it somehow irritating that her payments were spent so recklessly.

“Ehhh? Why bother with water when you can shower yourself in booze, I say,” Tak quipped, a self-pleased smirk on his lips at his clever use of wordplay, giving Camila’s complaints a dismissive wave, “You don’t get it; what’s a guy supposed to do after losin’ big at the casino? Just go home and play with his meat? Nah, you gotta drink that away! Sip some of the cheapest booze you can afford to sleep it off and deal with it in the morning!” Tak shouted enthusiastically as if he was dropping some genuine life advice on Camila, a finger tapping against his forehead to emphasize the size of the massive brain dancing around his skull.

“I’m so used to watered-down beer, I’m starting to learn how to just get sloshed off a few drops of alcohol. It’s all in the mind, y’know? If you just think you’re drinking straight beer, then your brain will think you’re drunk! It’s that simple.”

He continued to prattle on, his words not making sense, as usual.


Tak’s ramblings were cut short as his focus narrowed. The skin on his back bristled, goosebumps across his arms stuck to his jacket. It wasn’t the gust of cold night air that caused a chill up his back but latent instincts that told his muscles to tense.


“Oi,” Tak said in a hushed whisper and a glare. He raised his hands in front of him, widening his stance. His following words dripped with urgency, a seriousness she never knew he could tap into.


“Get behind me.”



“Wh—” Her eyes went wide, staring quizzically at her partner in crime. The cigarette slipped from her clasping teeth, a hot dot of bright orange sparking as it hit the cold, dark pavement. Perhaps her end-of-the-day state of mind had dulled her senses, as she was unaware of the implications that the night breeze carried along.

Nodding silently, she took several steps backward, letting the man’s frame cover her front. The sharp, spear-like stinger was now hanging next to her shoulders, ready to thrust itself forward should the need arise.

The source of his fears seemed unfounded. Nothing stood before them except a flickering street light and an empty sidewalk. It bounded in and out between darkness. Silence hung in the air, and tension spread through the atmosphere.

Nothing. Nothing except their breathing. Nothing but the sounds of the night, the distant roars of cars, the fading sounds of the city streets.

Flicker, flicker.


Camila Gaspari, I assume.


A silhouette. The flickering ended, and now what stood in the light was hidden behind darkness. Their figure was hard to distinguish; nothing about their body shape made sense. No hands, no head, just shifting and changing shapes and strips,


Camila was understandably disturbed by the writhing mass presenting itself to the duo. An inhuman shape with a human voice was a dissonant concept that could throw more than a few for a loop. But the intimidating presentation paled compared to the other fact that immediately sent a chill down her spine. This motherfucker knew her name, a vital piece of information she’s made sure to keep as nebulous as possible to those not within her circle or those with enough power and influence to get it regardless. Whatever was in front of her had to be part of the latter. She swallowed saliva, quickly traveling down her throat as it cleared up.


“And who are you, exactly?” Not even for a second did her guard lower.


Ill take that as a yes, then?

dGaMyi7.png


The well-mannered voice contrasted the creature's threatening aura and the authority that came from its steps forward. It was only then that the streetlight once again pulsed to life, its light glowing down upon their mysterious interloper.

Tak’s breath froze in his lungs when he saw it. His eyes widened, and his jaw clenched shut. Suddenly, he could hear his heart beating.

“What the hell is that thing..!?”

That thing had no mouth with which it should have been talking. Instead of a head was a cacophony of gangling black arms, jagged and thin like the branches of a dying tree, fingers at the end of each inhuman hand moved and twitched. Instead of arms, threads dangled from where its wrists should be, waving through the wind as it stood there.

Surprising? The voice suddenly seemed so much clearer. Rather than a muffled whisper in the street, nearly swallowed by the backdrop of the cityscape, it was pronounced, in their heads, telepathic.

I take no offense. It’s not the first time someone has found this form shocking. But let us skip the small talk. Im quite busy, it stated, and then one of its arms rose; it shook and twitched as if, on the cellular level, it was breaking and reforming itself to mimic movement. A finger pointed forward, trained on Camila’s forehead.

I need something from you, Ms. Gaspari. Your potential. It’s quite important, you see. Lives are at stake. Life and death. And you Tigers have always been the giving sort, yes?



From a pointed finger, did it switch to an open palm.

Would you be so kind as to allow me to have it? I know a chimeric like you might be happy to have such a pesky thing taken out of your life.

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice denoted a slight level of tension; whatever this…thing had just asked for, it was clear as day: It was not a joke. Her survival instinct started to kick in, hindsight berating her for not traveling by car.

Tak didn’t hesitate to step in front of this transaction attempt, his messy, mangled hair shadowed over his face. His intense scowl gave prominence to those lifeless eyes of his, for once they lit with life, a narrow-minded focus as he raised his fists up like the trained bruiser he was.


“Sorry, but my boss here isn’t interested,” he declared. He had never called Camila his boss before, and he would never say such a thing again, but at the moment, he was in the business, a Tiger on a mission.

This wasn’t something like chivalry or anything idiotic like that. Tak could care less about the situation at hand; there was only one crucial factor:

He hadn’t been paid for today’s job yet.

His fists clenched tightly, his shoes scraping against the pavement as he widened his stance.

“Take another fuckin’ step, and I’ll send you cryin’ back to your ugly ass mama, freak!”


The monstrosity paused for a moment. Its hands moved idly. With no facial features, it was impossible to tell what it was doing, but it seemed to be…thinking.

I dont recognize you. You're a small-timer, then," it reasoned, two of its hands crossing over each other into a fold, stern disapproval. "I have no interest in you.

Tak’s teeth ground against each other, and the engine came to life. Blood through his veins pumped the energy that got the valves of his heart moving. The pistons, the cranks, and the shafts moved in unison, and the gears spun as the engine roared to life in his chest.

His body moved like a bullet, and quickly, he became a black blur. His feet were already off the ground as a fist was reeled back. Slotted into place like a battering ram, he closed in on his target, flying right towards them, weightless as his jacket and hair fluttered in slow motion, a ferocious look in his eyes.

His fist finally flew forward, but a silhouette appeared out of nowhere before it could close the distance. Its own tightened first rocketed forward to blast Tak right into his jaw, the momentum turning into inertia as the brute was sent flying black; blood spluttered from his lip and stained the pavement, as his back was scraped against the cement walkway, skipping across it like a stone as he landed flat onto his back with a series of painful grunts.


“TAK!” Camila quickly rushed towards her ally as her hard soles clasped against the hard pavement, her hands supporting the weight of his leaning shoulders as she knelt down. Her expression, gritted teeth full of contempt, stared at the new figure. She clicked her tongue in frustration; Tak was already not in the best condition, to begin with, and should they go into a full-on battle, it didn’t seem like the tigers would come out on top.

“Tak, we need to get the hell outta here,” she whispered at him, her tail advancing forward. She attempted to force the enemies to keep their distance, and if she was lucky, she might be able to fool them into thinking her stinger was deadlier than it really was.

“Sorry, but I’m not sure I can just give you my potential or whatever.” Her voice calmed down, a usual method to try and de-escalate their situation. Should she manage to make them lower their guard, she might be able to make their escape. “Why don’t you explain yourself a little? I’m up to negotiate.”

I'm sorry. The time for negotiations is over. The creature of arms spoke; its open palm had clasped and retracted to join with the rest of them.

With the click of teeth, the moonlight shifted to bring the new figure into the light. His head was hidden underneath the skull of a bird, a black cloak that resembled feathers hung from his shoulders, and his hands were wrapped in bandages. Muscles bulged underneath his dirtied clothes, and dried blood stained his shirt. He wasn’t deterred by Camila’s tail or the venom that dripped from its stinger.

His fingers twitched, splaying and tightening as the bones within them cracked in preparation; wordlessly, its footsteps resounded through the concrete. What were they planning on doing to her?

A hand gripped the ground, nails scraping against the sidewalk, and within the next instant, Tak had sprung back up to his feet; his arm shot through the air until it slammed bone against bone.

The bird-skulled man skidded back, his shoes leaving a trail of smoke underneath, as steam wafted from the newly formed crack on his headpiece, matched by the sizzling sound of friction coming from Tak’s bruised fingertips.

He breathed heavily, steam blowing out from the corner of his lips, the job from earlier starting to catch up to him now, but he resisted when his body told him to buckle, to bend his knees as he trained those animalistic eyes on his opponents.

“You gotta run,” Tak stated, not even bothering to look at her as he held his ground, as unstable as it was.

“If I were in normal shape, I could get us both outta here….but as I am now, all I can do is hold ‘em off,” he said, tightening his fists once more as his glower steeled.

What?” Befuddled by Tak’s comment, Camila retracted her tail, wrapping itself around her waist for convenience. The last thing she needed was to get grabbed by it during her escape. “Cut it out with the heroic bullshit, we have to go!” She WAS going to leave in the next few seconds, whether the young man followed her. However, his selfless behavior was nothing short of grating to her; it didn’t sit right with the veteran. She didn’t want to lose a valuable asset due to his stupidity. Her feet were already pointing in the opposite direction, ready to break for it instantly.

“This isn’t about being a hero, damnit!”

Tak felt sweat beginning to form above his brow. His instincts were running wild; the intense feeling of something not being right had gone from a tingle to a grating against his nerves, plucking and pulling at the lymph of his spine.

“Since when have you known me to be someone who cares about shit like that?” He spat, glaring back at her for the brief moment he could afford before he clenched his fists in front of his face, skin scraping against each other like coarse leather. He put on a smirk across his features, putting on unsteady confidence.

“We’re still on a job, ain’t we? Let me earn a bit of a pay raise, will ya?”


Unfortunately for you both, I have needs from you, came that voice in their heads. Black hands began to move; they swayed and grasped at the air, acclimating to their surroundings as they splintered and bent. The sounds of cracking wood, the toppling of thick tree trunks, the sound that could be heard through a forest echoed through the dark alleys of the concrete jungle as the hands sprouted and grew upwards higher and higher in the sky did they grasp towards the moon, ascending towards the heavens.

Only for them to come soaring down like a swarm of serpents, jagged fingers poised as fangs as they opened themselves wide. The sight of them coming down reflected off Tak’s eyes, the gloss disappearing as he furrowed his brow.

“GRRRYAAAAAHHH!”

With a charge forward, he swung his arms around, meeting the hands with his own rampage as his fist tore through branches, splinters embedding in his skin as he grabbed at his arms and crushed them within his grasp, tearing them apart to slam his elbow into another. He bashed everything in his way, destroying it like a whirlwind, a rabid beast as red glimmered in his eyes.

A pointed finger weaved through the heap and found itself in between Tak’s lips. It hooked into his mouth, and when Tak stopped in bewilderment, three more pairs of hands had found their way into his mouth. They gripped at his lips, pulling them wide open, tight enough that his eyes began to tear, and the skin clung to his skull as his jaw was forced open. A final hand slithered above his head as the Tiger struggled against the grip, swinging his arms around in an attempt to tear himself free; fear had finally entered his eyes.

His pupils widened as he felt something tear down his esophagus, its coarse jaggedness, the barbs that sliced at his trachea all the way down to the deepest parts of his stomach; when he thought it could get no deeper, it seemed to keep going and going inside him. He gagged and sputtered, blood and spit dripping down his chin as his body went limp, his eyes glossy as they began to roll back into his skull.

Slowly, the hand began to retract itself from Tak’s body, slick with his juices all the way out, until a lump reached his throat, a balled fist past through Adam's apple, rising up to his jaw, and finally pulling past his lips.

One of those wooden hands held an apple from somewhere deep within Tak's body. It was pristine, and it even sparkled. Its bright red exterior invited one to take a bite.

Tak’s body fell limp, landing on the ground with a sharp thud; his pupils had vacated, and not even a single twitch came from him as he lay lifeless, the apple that had been “stolen” from him raised above his head.

Another beautiful fruit. The harvest is bountiful this year.


Camila, who had begun to run away from the conflict, felt a chill down her spine as Tak’s desperate, gargled screams echoed through the desolate street. Her sole clacked on the hard asphalt as she remained under the golden street light. Her knuckles turned white as she balled her fists, slowly turning her head around. Her pupils contracted as she caught a glimpse of the horrifying sight.

“TAK!”

Against her better judgment, the impulse to shout his name overcame her. Her body forcibly took a few hurried steps towards her fallen ally before stopping in her tracks again, realizing her actions' stupidity.


Dead branches dug their way to her scalp, splinter-covered fingers grasped at the side of her face, snaking their way to the corners of her mouth, poking against her gums, forcing her lips open.

Footsteps walked towards her, and finely polished shoes clicked against the pavement. The monstrosity of eldritch abomination loomed over her, and another one of its abhorrent hands reached down to pull away her bangs, disturbingly gentle.

Amidst wordless grunts, the veteran recoiled at the touch of the hand’s rough surface; her emerald pupils, contracted and jittery, stayed locked onto the malformed aberration ‘staring’ down at her. Camila’s nails scratched and dug desperately against the charcoal bark that covered the wooden tendrils keeping her in place. Her breathing was frantic, lungs pumping air in and out at long-forgotten rates. From what little freedom of movement it had, Camila’s expression displayed nothing short of horror and panic, droplets of cold sweat running down her brow. Any traces of fabricated composure or confidence crumbled under the weight of genuine fear.

STOP! PLEASE! Is what her mouth tried and failed to utter, incoherent screams instead coming out of her locked jaws.

Ms. Gaspari, the world will thank you. Your contribution will save the lives of many worldwide.

His ominous words came as more of its inhuman claws lowered. They inched closer and closer to her face, closing the distance to her mouth.

And then, everything went dark.










Chirping birds, a serene morning. The sun sat high in the sky. The sounds of cars driving by, engines stopping and starting at street lights. Distant cries of tries, the faint screams of airplane engines. Clouds floated across the blue sky, sparse and thick.

“Is she dead?”

A childish voice, a boy no older than ten. He sounded skittish, fearful, apprehensive.

The focus scanned across a gray brick wall, porous and featureless, besides its numerous cracks and divots.

“Maybe…you should poke her and see!”

Another boy, a bit older, spoke without a cadence of apprehension; his voice echoed between the parallel walls, bouncing off them as feet stepped into a dark alley.

“P-Poke her? Really!? Is that…okay?”

A rough shove pushed the boy ahead as he stumbled further into the alley, stopping in front of a pile of trash bags leaning against the wall. A person sat unconscious upon the throne of refuse, left to rest amongst debris. The shadows of the alley hid her figure.

Their dark black hair hid her eyes.

The younger boy attempted to step back but was stopped by the older boy with him, bumping against his chest. A hand came onto his shoulder before he could spin around, shaking him.

“C’mon man, don’t be a wimp! Just poke her and see if she moves!” The older boy tried to egg him on, a not-very-assuring grin on his features.

Left with no choice, the younger lad finally swallowed and stepped forward again. He picked up a plastic bottle left discarded on the ground and slowly inched forward, the bottle held in front of him.

He stretched his arm outward, agonizingly slowly, as if any moment the woman would come back alive, or that one wrong move would cause her guts and blood to spill everywhere.

He swallowed, and sweat started growing at his brow the closer the end of the bottle got to the “body.”

“Ahem.”

Like a shadow, a figure had appeared behind the older boy without a noise. Unlike a shadow, there was an actual form to them, artificially coughing to announce just how found out the two scoundrels were. The man known as Wallet robbed the remaining darkness that the morning hadn’t stolen away. He clicked a flashlight up two notches, spotlighting the boys as a side effect of casting the shadows off what was probably not a corpse. If she was a corpse, she wasn’t very skillfully made or disposed of.

“Not a proper thing to do, kids. She’s suffered enough without you two bothering her.”

Jin lifted up a loop on his shoulder, an artificial addition to a standard flannel shirt that was mirrored. It came in handy, such as when you need two hands free to slap the shoulders of a ruffian.

“I’m sure you two can find more wholesome activities to do. Run along.”

This wasn’t something he expected to do. He had a list of amenities to pick up, and there were a good few convenience stores back to back in this area if you could stomach the stench of heavy drinking. No need to bring a car around. It seems good that he didn’t. Wouldn’t want to have let somebody be out and exposed to the elements and annoying children. A civic duty to do so if he wanted to make a joke about it. But he can put off some of the more minor tasks, investigate this, and then, in all likelihood, pull some drunkard out and cart them over to the nearest bar that’s open so she can get the hair of the dog that bit them and then rethink her life. Just like these kids should also do.

The kids looked at the man, and quickly, the stick was dropped; they shrunk away, looking at each other.

"C'mon, let's go."

And then they scurried off like rats. Leaving Wallet and this mystery.

If only it could have been as simple as a drunkard.



 
PEYTON XIONG
CS Link
TIME:
Post-Outbreak || July 21st, 2022
LOCATION:
Ruined Bridge, North/East District
PARTICIPANTS: Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton,
Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine
REPARATIONS
Today was gonna be a fun day!

Mighty Lord Bash had allowed a nest of snakes to join him in a meeting with Shen, and Peyton was one of the lucky ones allowed to join the entourage. Peyton was quite grateful for the opportunity. Someone as cool as Bash probably didn't need anybody as backup. Even if he did, the Serpents really didn't have to trust Peyton and allow him to tag along, even though the bit of Raph's blood that ran through his veins acted like a leash that prevented Peyton from doing anything against the Serpents. But since he was allowed to come, Peyton was gonna prove that he could be trusted.

Peyton giggled when Bash warned them to behave themselves. It would be more accurate to describe it as when things went south, rather than if. After all, Peyton doubted that the Dragons would be happy to see his face after he left.

"Yeah, me too!" Peyton agreed with Raph, although his bubbly innocent demeanor clashed with the up-to-no-good tone that Raph had. It was gonna be great getting to fight his former friends. After all, training with the Dragons was one thing. Having a real fight was another, and Peyton could only imagine it as a fun experience.

As Peyton followed the gaggle of Serpents with a spring in his step, the sight of the Dragons slowly coming into view made them look really cool and intimidating. Especially Shen, who Peyton had only experienced the gentle side of. Despite his reckless and fearless nature, Peyton almost felt a tinge of fear, the sort of fear that he exclusively saved for people like Kazue and Caio.

Knowing that Shen would be there, Peyton had left his gun at home. Instead, a wicked set of carbon fiber claws covered every one of Peyton's digits, much like the origami paper claws that Peyton had seen people make back in middle school. The clawed fingers likely looked weird when Peyton raised his hand in the air to jubilantly wave at the Dragons, "Hi guys! Long time no see!"

Vaguely, Peyton had the inkling of the impression that he shouldn't be so merry, but logic never stopped Peyton.
 
[media]N/A[/MEDIA]
KANNA KATSURA
SCENE:
Reparations
TIME:
Post-Outbreak, July 21st, 2022
LOCATION:
Ruined Bridge, North/East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton, Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine
Reparations
As Jack, it was her job to represent the Azure Dragons, especially their king, whenever interacting with those who work for the Dragons, or the other gangs within New Oasis. It was also her job to advise him on the many issues and decisions that came before him, sometimes making those decisions for him.

But, Kanna learned fast that with Shen - once his mind was made, there wasn't much that could be done to convince him to reconsider. Which brings Kanna to yet another job being Jack - keeping him in check and backing him up.

As she followed the rest of the Dragons through the portal Ruriko formed, Kanna's eyes immediately scanned the area. She knew that it wasn't the same bridge, but one glance at Ruriko told Kanna that she was thinking about the same thing. What happened back then had never left her mind. It was hard to forget when there was a constant reminder of her failure as a friend.

Focus.

There were more pressing matters that the Jack need to prioritize right now. Clearing her head, she looked across the ruined bridge before them, observing as a group of Serpents emerged. Kanna recognized Peyton among the group of Serpents, but paid no mind as one of them stepped forward, with Shen and Ruriko approaching at the same pace. Kanna glanced back towards the other Dragons that chose to accompany them, raising her hand in a gesture that indicated she wanted them to stay where they were. The Jack walked up, catching up to the trio in time to hear the serpent introduce himself as Bash, before offering to move off to the side.

The last time that happened, it ended with Kanna being thrown through a building and impaled with a wooden stake. The scar was still on her leg. Kanna watched as Shen silently nodded in response. If they did step away, someone would have to stay close to Shen. While it seemed like for now the Serpent's intentions were true, Kanna couldn't rule out the possibility of an ambush or something else along those lines.

The Jack spoke up for her currently silent king.

"One of us will remain nearby."

Kanna glanced over to Ruriko, giving a small nod; a silent offering that if she would want to be the one to remain near Shen's side, Kanna would let her. She looked back towards the rest of the Dragons, making sure they were still in order. The last thing she needed was a repeat of what happened at the now destroyed bridge between the East and South districts.
 



Lloyd Sorvocah
TIME:
2022, July 21st - Post- Outbreak
SCENE:
Reparations
LOCATION:
Broken Bridge, North-East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Bash Nobody Special Nobody Special , Sang-Cheol Misuteeku Misuteeku , Raphael_Shen Elenion Aura Elenion Aura , Ruriko Beann Beann , Peyton Coyote Hart Coyote Hart , Kanna FabulousTrash FabulousTrash , Lloyd (Me), Celestine angel doe angel doe , Sabrina QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel , Kisara simj26 simj26 , Sylvaine TheAphelion TheAphelion , Jesper AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
Reparations
Well, wasn't this this something? There would be an important meeting between some high officials of both the Dragons and the Serpents. Although, Lloyd figures that the Serpents have more of a 'high' official. Lloyd is infuriated by the fact that they dare seek an audience with their King. What's more is that their King humours it, which he cannot understand. Then again, he still hasn't been around long enough, let alone around the King, to understand the motives. But with all that said, he had gotten an "invitation" to be part of the back-up in the meeting. Something for which Lloyd would be much obliged.

He is likely one of the earliest to arrive at HQ, not taking any chances on being late at all. He would quickly be noticed by the people inside. Who wouldn't notice you when you carry an enourmous weapon into a building?
"Lloyd Sorvocah, reporting," he says with a rather bland tone while keeping his weapon resting on his shoulder.
Ruriko would be most likely to recognise him from the meeting she organised about a month ago. Perhaps Kanna would recognise him too from that.

Though, whether or not they did recognise him wouldn't really change anything for the future. To most most people, his stale serious expression doesn't provoke any particular interest in him to begin with. That being said, those with a strong intuition towards may look into his eyes and see that something is off. As if something is slumbering behind his eyes, watching, waiting.

This would be the same for any Serpents who he would encounter on the bridge after the Dragons walk through the portal. However, Lloyd doesn't approach further when he is ordered to stand back along with the rest of the company. While remaining in position, Lloyd analyses the Serpents on the other side of the apex of the bridge, keeping a firm grip on his weapon.

'Look at them, standing there. Don't you just wish we could kill them already?' a familiar voice in his head speaks.
'On any other day, in different circumstances, I would. Who knows which one of them is involved with what they did to her,' Lloyd thinks in response.
'All of them. You know it's all of them. You know the Serpents are a blight. I know that from you,' the voice replies.
Those standing close to Lloyd could hear the sound of the leather handle being squeezed by Lloyd's grip as he stares intensely at the Serpents across from them.

'Today is a particularly important day. I am not going to take any chances, except for one,' Lloyd thinks.
'Oh? What might that be~?' the voice responds with a cheeky tone.
'If - or more like when - shit hits the fan, I will allow you to play. On the condition that you do your best to not harm my allies,' Lloyd thinks.
'Music to my ears, like a dream come true!' the voice celebrates.
 
MINATO MAEDA
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
Minato's knees bounced in time with the thumping beat from the front rooms. Drumming his fingers on the tabletop, his head bobbing, Minato almost missed his cue. That accent was wild.

"'Kay, boss lady!" He gave a quick salute before sharing a glance, and a 'hang loose!' hand gesture, with Hiachi. Lookout duty... Not even lookout duty. 'Lookout for the lookout', duty!

This was gonna be so BORING! He couldn't wait to get started.

 
RYUTARO HASHIMOTO
CS Link
SCENE:
Lessons in Power
LOCATION:
Abandoned Auto Plant, Outskirts of New Oasis
PARTICIPANTS:
Ryutaro, Alice
Lessons in Power

July 25, 2022

Power is not a privilege, but a responsibility bestowed upon one worthy of it. For if one uses power to their own ends, they betray its purpose.



The Tiger Queen remembered such words from his father as he awoke to a new day and followed the usual routine. Warm-up exercises, honing his martial skills on the wooden dummy that stood in the personal gym of his penthouse, before putting beans to grind for an espresso. A quick cold shower to jolt the heat away from his body while his morning drink of choice was brewed by the automated machine in his kitchen. This was the usual procedure in the mornings that he had maintained for so many years now that he didn't even consciously think about it - it was all driven muscle memory for the best kind of morning someone in his position could ask for.

But what happened after was always up to the whims and fluxes of the world at large, whether it was business meetings or Tigers business; but one constant was that he always put himself to his fullest no matter what the situation was at hand. Sipping at his small espresso cup, he held a book in his hand as he sat upon a large luxuriously crafted couch to both bask in the sun as well as to scan the lines of his current literature of choice: Vance Astro and the Starpath Crusaders.

Who said the Queen couldn't have a bit of fun with some campy sci-fi?

He couldn't help but chuckle as he read over a particular prose penned by the author: And so we stand for liberty and justice for all across the cosmos. the titular protagonist spoke in his all-Amestrian pride against the stellar Emperor Zarkon. And justice will prevail!

Despite being a best-seller, it was obvious this wasn't good literature. Nor did Ryu care. However, before he could read further, his phone rang to indicate that his attention was needed. Lazily putting down the book, he picked up his smartphone and saw that it was Cal ringing. "I assume the offer was received well?" he asked of his CTO.

"Indeed, sir. The realtors agreed to your proposition rather quickly." Cal spoke, "More land under our portfolio."

"Important land. One that will continue to strengthen my hand overall." Ryu then said as he leaned back into the couch and looked outwards to the city beyond the glass that surrounded his penthouse. The bustle of the everyday continued on even after the earthquake and the commotion down in central. Despite all the terrors and hardships wrought upon this city, it still somehow managed to cling on to that faint hope that tomorrow would be a better day. Resilient would be the best word to describe the urban sprawl that was New Oasis. "Start talking with our architects about designs. In the meantime, I have a meeting later today."

"With that girl from the restaurant?" Cal then asked with audible hesitation. "May I ask why?"

"She has power, Cal. But power that remains wholly untamed and unknowable. I don't like to have an unknown in my own backyard."



At two o'clock in the afternoon, Ryu was now dressed as he usually was in an environment that one would consider to be awfully mismatched with his presence. Yet, the ruins of abandoned industry surrounding the city provided ample places to meet away from the prying eyes and ears of both the public and hostile elements. It was here in what once produced tens of thousands of cars per year now lay silent and dead. The Queen could practically *feel* what once had been here, his mind filling in the gaps to create machinery and workers moving tirelessly to meet the demands of an ever growing market.

And now all that remained was rust and decay; a remnant of a past for a future that will never come.

As he waited in silence for the arrival of the one he had invited, he continued to allow his mind to wander for the time being in order to reminisce on what used to be an industrial powerhouse of a continent.


AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
A Helping Hand
TIME:
Sunrise, Post-Arc 2, January 3rd 2022
LOCATION:
East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Kazue
A Helping Hand
"Oh! Uh, yeah, sorry about that, ahaha..." The boy took his hands off Kazue's shoulders, slowly taking a couple steps back as an awkward laugh escaped his lips. He tried it play it cool, but the embarassment in his face was clear as day, almost wishing someone else was there to slap him on the back of his head.

His head bobbed up and down softly as Kazue spoke. "Alright, yeah that makes sense, I'll stay around here for a few minutes, should be easy to find a good spot." The corner of his eye taking notice of the nearby trash container.

"A-Ah, wait a sec!" Just as Kazue's feet turned around to begin her unceremonious retreat, Charlie hastily called out to her. Reaching for the pockets of pants, the young man pulled out a small notepad and a pencil, a small habit of carrying them around was something he had developed somewhat recently, after certain chaotic events not long ago. The acute leaden tip scribbled loudly against the paper, a series of numbers no imprinted on it. He quickly ripped out the page before folding it, then reaching out for Kazue's hand and laying it atop.

"You probably already have it, but just in case, here's my number in case you ever need any help, I meant it when I said I was going to pay you back." He flexed his arm, his free hand patting on his concealed bicep "Call me if you ever need protection." His slightly smug expression then quickly dissipated. "Just...not against other phoenixes, please."

He placed his note-taking utensil back where they belonged once more, before giving Kazue one last smile. "Alright, take care Kazue! Was great meeting again despite...all this."

Finally, he turned around, walking towards the large trash container and opening its door. He then clumsily made his way inside, the steel creaking and trash being tossed around as he climbed its wall, before closing shut. A second later, he opened it slightly, hazel eyes and cerulean locks contrasting amidst rusty browns and withered greens of the small gap. He signaled Kazue with one final thumbs up before closing the container again, ready to stay inside for the time being.


@azenva
 
RYUTARO HASHIMOTO
CS Link
SCENE:
Alliance of Apex Convenience
LOCATION:
Brother's Krimm Restaurant, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ryutaro, Lorette
Alliance of Apex Convenience
"Come now, there's no need for such formalities here." Ryu said with a smile as he watched Lorette take her said across from him at their exclusive table. It was true that he didn't particularly like decorum as though he were actual royalty. He was a leader, not a despot. Ryu believed himself to be above such... human notions of petty squabbles and political bickerings. He paid no attention to the attendant that she had brought along, nor did he protest his presence; he figured one way or another, the outcome would be the same regardless of whether the man happened to overhear what they were talking about. And the subject itself was as precarious as a ship navigating through icebergs, or a plane flying through a tempest. There was a narrow way through that would lead to his desired outcome, but stacking the deck in his favour wouldn't hurt.

"I've called you here for a particular issue at hand. One that has been plaguing the Tigers for quite some time now." the Queen then said, before leaning in closer. "I plan on excising the difficulties that plague us by striking it at the head: Markus." He didn't beat around the bush, given he knew that Lorette was not one for small-talk. "Our current King has been unable, and unwilling, to do what is necessary to push our interests. Instead, he wallows around like a spoiled child playing with his position as such. I find this state of affairs unacceptable. Change must be had if we are to push beyond our current boundaries."

He then leaned back and waved a server nearby over. The young lady walked past Allister, albeit meekly as she noted his gaze, before approaching with hands crossed in front of her. "I'll be taking a glass of your vintage Charmait Rouge." he commanded, before turning to Lorette. "And my guest will have whatever she wants, on my tab."


Ramjammer Ramjammer
 
[media]N/A[/MEDIA]
SYLVAINE VALENTINO
SCENE:
Reparations
TIME:
Post-Outbreak, July 21st, 2022
LOCATION:
Ruined Bridge, North/East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Bash, Shen, Kisara, Kanna, Sang-cheol, Celestine, Sabrina, Peyton, Raphael, Ruriko, Lloyd, Jesper [Guardian], Sylvaine
Reparations

Despite having been part of the Dragons for quite a while now, Sylvaine had never really found himself caught up in high-level meetings between two gangs.

He was mostly accustomed to smaller discussions, sorting through any sort of unrest that cropped up within the gang. He must've been gaining quite the formidable reputation as someone who was known for being nothing but peaceful and understanding, able to quell any sort of rage before it really had a chance to build up. He hadn't been in many violent confrontations either, just the occasional scuffle that he was quickly able to put a stop to.

He assumed this was the reason why he was here, in this very moment. He had arrived fairly early, some of the first to do so. Those who subsequently arrived earned only a faint nod of acknowledgement from him, as he remained completely silent, not uttering even a word to the others. He seemed to be somewhat preoccupied with his thoughts, mostly mentally preparing himself for the meeting that laid ahead. If all went well, he likely wouldn't really have to do anything except serve as another presence there, but if things became heated then the potential of him having to step in would be closer to becoming a reality, and if that happened, he'd have to be prepared for a fight.

All of those things he wasn't too worried about. All of his past experience had been accumulating, and it wasn't going to be for nothing.

His biggest gripe with the whole matter was... it was very familiar territory, to him. The North District, the Sable Serpents... the very thought of facing them twisted his stomach, his arms and neck tingling with goosebumps. He was thankful that he was wearing his long-sleeved coat, hiding away what little evidence displayed his true feelings on the matter. Part of him wondered why he had shown up in the first place, if this was such a difficult task for him. It would've just been easier to remain within the confines of dealing with any inner turmoil of his own gang, though despite how he felt, he had still shown up.

Maybe it was because he wanted to prove himself. Maybe it was because he was worried that, if he didn't show up, the Dragons would suspect some sort of association with the Serpents, whether past or present. Maybe it was because he wanted to show himself that he was able to move on from the mistakes of the past. Regardless... he was here, and there was no turning back.


Alongside the others, he stepped through the portal, remaining amongst the rest. His eyes scanned the other group, seeking anyone who might spark a sense of familiarity in his mind. However, he was not able to find anything, though it was difficult to really discern any faces amongst the crowd. He could only hope that it was the same for him, as he pressed his lips together, standing back a little and resting his palms on his staff, leaning on it a bit as he carefully observed the meeting playing out before him.

 
HITOSHI YAMAKAWA
CS Link
SCENE:
LYRICAL MISERY
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3; Nov 11, 2021
LOCATION:
THE SERENITY - BAR AND EATERY, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Hiachi
LYRICAL MISERY
"Coming right up miss." the bartender - a man with a well-groomed moustache that signaled his affinity with the now - said with a nod as he got to work preparing three small glasses of gin and tonics; his mastery over liquor was schowcased by how quickly he shook, stirred, and poured over ice. Every single one came to almost the exact quantity, down to the drop, to give three perfect cocktails that one could ask for. By this point, the chatter and murmurs of the establishment had returned after the song had come to an end and the patrons returned to their usual conversations. The karaoke machine was silent, for now, as Hitoshi strode confidently back to the bar. His seat was practically warm still as he sat back next to Hiachi and looked to her order.

"I'll have another round as well!" the vagrant said confidently, which brought forth another trio of drinks for him to indulge his vice in.

That's the stuff sire. Light the fires of music upon this wretched world!

He tapped the bar's wooden top rhythmically as he watched his nectar be created before his very eyes; it took an enormous effort to not drool in anticipation. And when presented, they were as precious as all the diamonds in the world. Taking the first glass, he drowned his innards with it without hesitation and let out a relieved gasp as the alcohol warmed his chest. Without it, he had none of his *magic* that he brought forth to the stage. He then turned to Hiachi: "So, whaddya think?"


miki miki
 
Dante Aguilar
CS Link
SCENE:
B T S I T R U M Y M T O
TIME:
April 19th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
A Bar in Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi, Dante
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means You're Missing The Obvious

He didn’t reply immediately to Tak’s incessant complaining, instead pulling out his phone and holding an index up to shush the words back into his mouth, swiveling to face McClain as his bout of laughter and snide remarks took the bar’s attention. One thumb slid, x axis then y, -y, coming down to tap at the screen— then, a sound came through loud and clear through the speakers.

It was a random baby’s atotuned, distorted whining and crying, slotted into a sound desk app. He let the baby wail its heart out, the sound blaring to break the silence that befell the room after Hiachi’s retort for her pride’s sake. As though a divorced single mother had forgotten that she still had her infant cradled in her arms as she’d gone out for drinks for the night.

He started flicking his thumb on the screen, double-timing it, the sounds of a digit tapping on plastic-covered glass coming along with a child’s cut-off crying. It had an oddly rhythmical, obnoxious tempo to it.

The thought of buying an actual soundboard and carrying it around for comedic effect had crossed his mind a while ago, but that’d be a little overkill, no? — “Eheh…that’s sounds so stupid…” — Maybe he’d hit the bottle a little too hard while waiting on the two of them.

“Can’t have you trashtalking to my best friends like that now, can I?” — Dante started to the seats he’d saved, pushing past awkward, dumbfounded stares, one hand moving to the insides of his jacket with the nonchalance of a stray waddling across rooftops. He’d never seen Hiachi step up to anyone. Ever. This had to be good, then — “Alright, McClain…You think you’re tough shit at trivia? You really don’t know who you’re talking to, do you? You must think this shit is all pancakes and maple syrup, sunshine and rainbows………”

Something overpowered the room then, Dante’s lazy, almost uncaring gallop becoming more and more foreboding with each creaking step across the bar. A hush filled the air, the weight of uncertainty coming down on the bustling bar, and he moved with predatory grace. A looming presence, deliberate, each footfall echoing like a drumming heartbeat, a countdown in the tense silence. His quiet shadow seemed to stretch with each step, draping and billowing across the floor, like it were reaching over for the entrance, blocking everyone in.

His hand moved beneath his jacket, coming out with a new pair of shades, his serious shades. He tossed the jacket over his shoulder, his face low and obscured by shadow as he flicked on the darker sunglasses, pocketed the orange shades. He raised two fingers, a golden glow shinning through his shades — “Two times world champion of St. Riviera’s spelling bee competition, 8th grade edition.”

The floorboards creaked; he pushed up his glasses. The air grew colder. Thick. Asphyxiating.

“Co-Starring as ‘Constance de Bonancieux’ in the Northern District’s Silver Saucer’s children’s theater play, The Four Musketeers Musical. Limited. Tickets.”

Whispering trepidation danced in the air, grim tales, like a dark cloud that loomed over each soul. Was it their mind playing tricks on them, were they hearing things? Were they sweating? What was that presence they felt, tingling at the back of their neck? It was clear, this was no ordinary patron.

“One of the top 10 lasting survivors of Central District’s all-out nerf war contest.” — He finally reached the counter, setting his jacket on one of the empty seats by his side — “And undisputed piano grandmaster throughout the entirety of the Western District. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ in under 5.7 seconds, look that shit up.”

“That’s who you’re messin’ with.”
— He jabbed a thumb into his chest, taking a proud, oddly imposing stance. None of those things had anything to do with trivia, but somehow, with all the confidence and poise he’d spat them out with, they carried a freight-load of weight to them. He’d made up the piano grandmaster thing— but still. Lot of weight — “And don’t even get me started on what this girl’s capable of, I’m afraid to fully ask myself.”

Had he used the wolves to put some weight on his very unassuming titles and achievements? Maybe.

Why have all the power when you can’t abuse it for no reason whatsoever?

“Run it, then. Don’t go bawling your eyes out when we beat you, cowboy.” — He patted at the cushioned seats right and left of him, nodding at Tak and Hiachi — “What’re you two waiting for, huh? Let’s show these amateurs how it’s done.”



thebigfella thebigfella miki miki
 


???
CS Link
SCENE:
Back in the Game
TIME:
Post Arc-3; July 5
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo
BACK IN THE GAME
The people who were engulfed in terror heard Milo's voice call out to them as a saviour, and they hurried through the path he had laid before them. Burning wreckage consumed the area as more sirens sounded in the distance. The city had come to a standstill, choked with panic, as seeing such violence was unfamiliar to the people here. A news chopper could be seen flying above, getting a birds eye view of the chaos unfolding on what should have been an ordinary day. There was also a police chopper, and its megaphone quickly sounded: "Surrender now!" the pilot shouted to someone.

With the flames and chaos, it was impossible to tell where until another fireball shot up into the sky. A brief yell could be heard from the police chopper before it was engulfed by an explosion. Molten metal rained from above, and the news helicopter soon shared the same fate as another explosion consumed it and sent it plummeting downwards. The panic only increased among the civilians as they fled for their lives, but there was a figure that stood alone. A black silhouette could be seen standing proudly in the flames, unaffected by its scorching embrace, and let out a roar.

As the figure stepped out from the inferno, Milo could see that the man was perpetually on fire - his skin had long since been burnt to a crisp among most of his body, save for parts of his face. "You're here to spoil my fun, aren't you?" he spoke with a growl. "Too damn long I was in a cell. I was promised my vengeance when they broke me out! Now... now I'm going to make them all pay. Starting with you." And just as quickly, he summoned a ball of fire into his hand and launched it at Milo!


HITOSHI YAMAKAWA
CS Link
SCENE:
Back in the Game
TIME:
Post Arc-3; July 5
LOCATION:
Boustan [A metropolis about a four hour drive from New Oasis]
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Milo
BACK IN THE GAME
Charlie went through with his assault, though it was obvious he and Hitoshi were dealing with experienced fighters in their own right. The whip-man cracked the energy at the rubble, causing it to shatter into dozens of smaller pieces from the force of the impact as a deflection. But he still wasn't quick enough to block Charlie's following strike as his baton connected into the man's ribs, causing him to guffaw out in pain. Hitoshi was more than ready to follow up with a strike to the face but was quickly tackled into one of the nearby tram cars by the assailant that had nearly stabbed Charlie earlier.

This separated Charlie from the veteran, and in turn Charlie found himself being launched again; the whip-man summoned another arc at close range and wrapped it around Charlie's baton wielding arm. This, in turn, gave the man leverage to thrust the rookie into another tram car and left him isolated to fight it out with his current combatant in close quarters.

"The Metroline-Central Zoo Tram is now departing." the automated announcer chimed once more, and the doors shut to leave the two phoenixes with their respective opponents. Hitoshi could see through the glass as he got up that Charlie was just 1 car down. But between them was not only two powered attackers, but also thick steel and glass. There were no doors to move between cars, which meant that they would have to regroup in some other manner. For the time being, however, the elder phoenix was focused on the man in front as he extended his bone daggers from his wrists.

Hitoshi responded in kind as he pulled out his pocket mirror and reached in to get his trusty bat. "Alright, let's do this." Hitoshi said with a cocky grin, flourshing his weapon of choice with a twirl before charging at his opponent.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Roda the Red Roda the Red
 
HITOSHI YAMAKAWA
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
TIME:
January 8, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, 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
Something about this man seemed so overtly familiar, but Hitoshi couldn't place his finger on what exactly this feeling was. And the feeling only became more intense when the hobo was insistent that the two of them had been drinking partners with the likes of him. It was then that, like his attached compatriot, he took received a sharp stab to his frontal lobe as a hungover memory returned to the forefront. There was the three of them, drinking and dancing to a boombox playing intensely loud music; all three of them moving and flailing around with their limbs in idiotically rhythmic patterns that held no grace or form save for the passion that had been on display.

"Huh..." Hitoshi said, rubbing his head in an attempt to soothe the pain away. "I guess we did hang out with this dude..."

It was then that the man he was unwillingly conjoined with made his declaration once he found out they went to a nightclub. A good start to finding the root of all this, but there was a pressing matter to get out of the way first. "Whoa whoa whoa, let's figure out how to walk first compadre!" Hitoshi then said with annoyance, "I do NOT want to roll down like a damn ball down a hill again!"

He then took a quick look to their legs below and narrowed his eyes. "We can't walk forward or backward without one carrying the other. I'll get too damn tired lugging your heavy ass around and vice versa. We have to walk sideways, like a crab!"


...



thebigfella thebigfella
 
Scene Setting
CS Link
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
It's been so long since I made this just lmk if you want in
Phantom of Euphoric Memories

Today was a day like any other day. You came to lower central for one reason or another, maybe it was later than you usually would be out but the night’s howling winds made it seem emptier than normal.

The sounds of deranged laughter fill the air. Ah yes, once again something was starting up in New Oasis. As you approached the laughter you found a trail of blood and bodies left in the wake of what looked like a half-crazed mob of people bearing a strange mark upon them.

They were searching for something, and before you could find out what you find yourself on the defensive as a shout from above bids them to tear anything in their way.

Now the question was, was it even your problem to deal with?

The howling night winds went through Lower Central, reminding them all that it wasn’t just poorer but colder, emotionally and physically, in this underlayer of the city. The lights dimmed to a more red-like color instead of the blue and white light they gave off in the day to supplement the light that didn’t reach down here. A grim reminder to all the true disparity the city held.

At 12 am anyone still around was either some poor sap on their way home from a job that paid too little for what was expected of them or some party goer, who managed to get themselves either massively lost, or a party of one. The lone drunks littering the street were no more an eyesore than anywhere else but even so they brought an air of gloom as they seemed to fit right into the background. Combined with the additional stoners that could be found passed out in alleyways it was both an obstacle to pass over, if you wanted to go anywhere past, and a sore spot for any citizen believing in the cops.

Yet there was less of a crowd than usual. It was concerning. While lower central hadn’t been the ritziest of places plenty lived and visited, it was somewhere centralized with easy access. Aside from the various sad sacks it seemed the foot traffic was nonexistent. The various people shuffling around the streets were gone and laughter started to fill the alleys.

Low but menacing, deranged in an inhuman way. Something that screamed that it was an issue to investigate but it was not nearby for the moment.

Further on there were mysteries to be deciphered, but danger was likely as well.

/border]


Heart Of Conflict
CS Link
LOCATION:
Graveyard, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
It's been so long since I made this just lmk if you want in
Phantom of Euphoric Memories

The sound of shouting was louder in this area as the sight of a half-crazed mob tearing through the area could be seen. The coherency of the mob was at an all-time low as whatever they frantically searched for was not to be seen. The piercing red eyes that glowed in the night matched the red sigil upon each of their faces of a snake eating itself.

The words were a repeating mantra from all as they called out.

“Where is it? Where are they?”

Two going at each other with the sigils drawn to their face tore at each other's arms as they dug through the soil of the grave upon which they fought. The symphony of shouts echoed not just here but all around as the people seemed to be not the only ones affected by whatever was calling them to act so erratically.

Though the ones in eyesight were clearly no more than the common beggars and other riffraff that might be found sprawled out at this time of night it begged the question.

Just what was going on upon this cursed night?

/border]


Elsewhere
CS Link
SCENE MUSIC:
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
It's been so long since I made this just lmk if you want in
Phantom of Euphoric Memories

“That’s enough people for this sector. Don’t you think Gin?”

c91bfddb89866f8e3c201e7d13a20b60.jpg


The voice came from the lanky young adult male who loitered around a car still running with seemingly no one in it. The old rust bucket made its share of noise in the area and was letting out more than its share of emissions as the smoke from its tailpipe was a black sooty color that spoke to its state.

Nearby a woman adored in various cheap metal jewelry stood up peering into the car with eyes narrowed. In her line of sight was a child knocked out and laid across the back seat unharmed but looking nothing like either of the young adults. The woman circled the car and opened the passenger side as the man started to make his way into the driver’s seat.

16c9cddc3317d58cf994ec9d5ef77a2d.jpg


“Shut up Tonic don’t wake the kid. Pays the same whether there are six or sixty zombies out there searching. It’s not like that quack is ever going to get what he wants anyway. Just gotta take him for a ride ‘til his little heart gives up and then collect. Dead people don’t return from the dead.”

The car sputtered as they buckled in and began moving once more. The sound of stirring came from the backseat before the woman tossed a worn blanket to the back and it swapped to the faint sound of a yawn.

/border]
 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
"Two" is Company
TIME:
Pre-Arc 1, July 20th 2021
LOCATION:
Camila's Apartment, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Minato
"TWO" IS COMPANY
Digging into her own plate of pasta, Camila simply let out a peppy giggle in response to Minato's praise, sparing him multiple half-lidded stares, the intent behind her eyes being less than subtle.

The woman's slender fingers slid under the base of her glass, raising it and pressing it against her pale pink lips. She looked happy enough that she could start humming at any second. Such view was strikingly different to what's usually to be expected from the anxious, distrustful workaholic.

For once, she was able to take a break, enjoy the company of a handsome and charming guy, and maybe allow herself to be a little more vulnerable for a change. Whimsical romance may be but a fallacy that only fools believe in, but maybe, just for today, she could feel like a spoiled princess.

The one thing that was for certain is that she would not have to worry about wor-

*COUGH COUGH*


She nearly choked on her drink, taken aback by Minato's sudden revelation. "Wait, what?" She looked back at him, her back straightened and her shoulders draped down, her tail also began swaying around lightly. "B-But I prepared everything for today, I-I spent like an hour searching for a place selling truffles last minute and-" She began moving her arms in tandem to her words, her eyes jittery darting to side to side as she tried to change the man's mind. But her words were ultimately cut short by his gentle kiss. Staggered, she held her hand against her cheek, staring into nothingness, not even responding to the man's last words before making his way out.

It was the sound of the door opening that snapped her out of it, her thoughts now back on track, a grimy and somber track. Everything was going so well, why did he have to leave like that? The veteran felt a cold shiver down her spine, he claimed next time, but was the even true? The man was slippery and elusive, it was the first time she finally got to spend some good time with him, no professional labels getting in the way. And yet, this is what happens.

Suddenly, she stood up, her cutlery clattering as they hit the floor. Minato could hear the apartment's door opening once more behind him.

"Wait!"

She locked eyes with frame, saddened eyes staring with confusion and frustration. "...Is it really that important...your work?" Bold question coming from someone who would put her own climb of the ladder above all else. "...Was it something I said? You can just tell me, I just need to know if I fucked up somehow!" All pretense of confidence now shattered, the girls stared down as she leaned her shoulder against the open door, her wire-like tail coiling around her thigh.

Alas, she finally had her moment to be vulnerable, but was it was par for the course, it wasn't exactly in the way she wanted.


Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
TAKAONNA
SCENE:
Pest Control
LOCATION:
East District, Brothel
PARTICIPANTS:
Takaonna, Jackson
Pest Control
The noise was starting up again. A grating scratch that rattled one of the Takaonna's few senses left. She couldn't nab food; not while this annoyance remained. And as the sound bounced through the halls, into each vent and shaft, she could tell where it came from. Takaonna tore open a vent grille, squeezing inside with bones cracking and reshaping. Her arms pulled themselves forward like worms, extending with each nail dug into the metal.

As for Jackson, he might've heard thumping in the vents—from the walls.

And he would have heard the grilles beside him pop open. One hand stretched from each side. One grabbed his throat, clamping it shut with hopes of silencing his song. The other wrapped its fingers around Jackson's ankles. They both pulled, suspending the boy midair.

He'd have felt his stomach taut.

BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
TAKAONNA
SCENE:
The DEATH of Cinnabun??!?
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Takaonna, Celeste
The DEATH of Cinnabun??!?
Taka could only listen to her options. There was hope, and that was enough to calm her down—Cinnabun was not, in fact, dead. But sick? Kiwi told her that living in the sewer was not healthy. That was why they had to move to the warehouse... Could Cinnabun have gotten sick because of that?

She needs a veterinarian. Taka has heard of those before in passing. Like any other public service worker, it was just another person that Taka couldn't meet. Not without the screams, or the sense of danger that came with it. Still, if that was her only hope... "Can't leave her..." she uttered.

She trusted Celeste, and that wouldn't change. But the thought of having a stranger look at her possession, Cinnabun... She pet the bunny gently, the only life she has been able to treat kindly. A creature that brought her a sense of ease, and as others put it, 'normality'. "I... go, too..."

Taka felt around for Celeste, and upon finding her foot, moved her hand to the top of her head. "Friend, help?" Kiwi always made public-related things easier. Perhaps Celeste could, too?

angel doe angel doe
 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means Your Missing The Obvious
LOCATION:
West District
DATE:
April 19th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Tak, Hiachi ( miki miki ), Dante ( Haze- Haze- )
Being The Smartest In The Room Usually Means Your Missing The Obvious

The awkward, stilted silence that wafted over the area in reaction to the synthesized baby wailing was detectable. People who had tried to ignore what was going on and keep themselves focused on their drink finally couldn’t help but look to the center of the bar with different looks between bug-eyed and confused.

Tak was the only one who showed irritation. Visible trembles in his brows twitched in discontent, a growing scowl as his neck creaked and cracked, dropping as the shadows on his expression deepened.

Mcclain watched in deadpan silence, only stopping to check his watch and glancing back up as the whole thing went on.

Tak’s fist had begun to cock back, veins protruding around his knuckles as he resisted the urge to slam it into Dante’s skull, but for once, self-control won out in his mind, deciding to fight his “teammates” wouldn’t be the best if he wanted to actually pose a threat to Mcclain.

With a huff, he looked to the side, avoiding the cocky look that Mcclain gave him, placing his hands on his stomach as he chuckled, “So, this is the quality of your help, huh?” He chided, but Dante brought himself up to the plate before Tak could retort.

Mcclain looked at him uninterested, reaching up to adjust his hat as Dante began to ramble on, “More than just sunshine and rainbows, my boy. For me, trivia is like barbeque back on the prairie. Snakeskin boots and the smell of cow manure. It ain’t no paradise; it’s my home, boy!” He exclaimed, a coy smirk across his features, unaware of the number of awards that Dante held.

The list came, and it sure went on. Once again, everything had gone quiet besides whatever the “guy who thought it was cool to wear sunglasses inside at night” was saying. Patrons looked on in shock, Mcclain, and sweat began to grow on his brow. Tak had puckered lips as he stood there frozen; his eyes had sunken into their sockets and left wrinkles around his lids, and he almost looked mummified.

It was only when he finally stopped speaking that everyone’s thoughts in unison played out through the collective consciousness. A whistle of wind, as if somehow a tumbleweed had gotten inside the premises and rolled past.

“What does any of that have to do with trivia?”

With a hearty chuckle, Mcclain broke the confusion as he stepped away to his booth, spurs jingle jangling as he hooked his fingers around his large belt, “Well, I’ll tell ya, I ain’t one to shy away from a challenge! But don’t think it will be cryin’ tonight! I’ll send y'all back to your wonderful mothers with some boot imprints on your keesters! Yessireee!” He shouted behind him, clicking his heels together with joy as he could already imagine the faces of his defeated enemies.

Tak slid into perspective behind him, using his mouth as a megaphone despite Mcclain only being a few steps away to hike his volume, “Well… We’re gonna send your mom some picks of our cocks when we win, so take that!” He attempted to insult back but was ignored as Mcclain walked away. With an annoyed growl, Tak walked over, sliding himself onto a cushioned seat and crossing his arms as he looked at him.

“...Oi, what the hell with all those achievements? You tryin’ to tell me you actually did something as a kid besides ride your bike and swipe your dad’s porno mags,” he attempted to hide his jealousy, sneering as he pulled his legs up to rest on the table.

“Really interested in knowing how “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” will win us this game. Should I start making wishes for it right now?” He said, clasping his hands together as sparkles flashed in his eyes, “Please, bright and shiny star! Give me an answer and a stuffed crust pizza while you’re at it!” He ribbed and, shortly after, turned his head to the side and spat, “Peh! Can you believe this guy?” He gestured to Dante, looking at Hiachi with a frown, “Spendin’ all those time gettin’ useless skills as a kid, shoulda been like the rest of us and runs around active construction sites,” He chided, a few deliberate taps of his finger next to his skull as he turned to Dante, “A few bricks to the head would have straightened you out.”

It was starting to look more and more unlikely that these two would be able to answer any trivia question.

The bartender walked over to them as they were talking, placed a sheet on the counter, and gave a wordless nod before he stepped away, going to the other patrons and passing out the same thing.

Tak picked it up and slid it to the middle of the three of them, “This is the sign-up sheet. We put our names on this. And more importantly…”

His posture shifted in his seat; the slight drop of his head came with the rise of a shadow across his face, a sharpness infiltrating his dull eyes as he switched his gaze between them.

“Our team name.”


 
JAVI ONEIRO SILVA
SCENE:
Write Under Their Noses
TIME:
March 17th, 2021 || Pre-Arc 1
LOCATION:
Rothan And Rothan Pawn Shop, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Gift, Javi
WRITE UNDER THEIR NOSES
Javi nodded. Sounded like a good plan. Er... At least a good next step in the plan that may or may not already be in motion, and/or being constructed on the fly. He was cool with playin' it loose, improvising and all. Whether his little critters were in the mood to play along though was another story...

Javi half-cringed, half-shouted when it looked as though Gift might've been on the verge of stepping headlong into oncoming traffic. Without a moment to reflect, he was gone again with nary a quip to remember him by.

Not wanting to get left behind, Javi hot-footed it across the street, keeping tight on Gift's six. When the senior Dragon veered away from their target, Javi stutter-stepped a little but otherwise maintained his tail, gripping tight to the strap of his satchel to keep it from jostling around too much as they hoofed it to their next location.

When they arrived in the abandoned alley, Javi took a moment to look around... Not that he knew what he was looking for. Secret ninjas, maybe? The sound of a duffel bag hitting the concrete cut his search short with a start. Following the line of Gift's finger to the bag on the ground, Javi cupped his chin and nodded... Despite what his expression might (or might not bely), he would probably require a more in-depth explanation of the plan...

“Oh, right!” Recalling Gift's instruction from earlier, Javi knelt down on the pavement and unslung the satchel from across his shoulders, laying it down beside Gift's own duffel bag.

Gift had shown him his. It was only right that he return the favor...

He reached his hand out. The sphere within Javi's satchel hummed and glowed. The light within swirled and twitched. After a flash of bright yellow that lit up the alleyway in a manner that was not exactly inconspicuous, atop the globe of the satchel sat a diminutive, yellow, alien creature.
8z2ZtGC.png
Peering through opaque eyes, the creature trilled inquisitively, its unblinking gaze shifting from Javi to Gift. No more than three feet tall, at a glance, the creature might've been mistaken for a common house cat... A very quick glance. At times its skin appeared almost crystalline. At others, amorphous and slick, covered in places by plates of grey, chitinous armor. A crown of sharp protrustions crested its head, casting faint, jagged shadows across its visage. The creature stood on its hind legs, lidless eyes focusing on the unfamiliar presence. Javi returned its attention with a quick wave of his hand in front of its beaked face.

“Hey, buddy. This is Gift, he's cool. We need your help with somethin'. You OK with that?”

The creature cocked its head to one side, inquisitively. It peered from one face to the other and back again, its hollow gaze lingering for a long moment on Gift. At long last, it turned its attention back to Javi and hooted acquiescence.

“Nice! You the man,” Javi said to the creature and then to Gift, looking up over his shoulder at his fellow Dragon. “OK, he's in. Tell 'im what he's gotta do.”

Both sets of eyes were now on Gift.

 
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
Phantom of Euphoric Memories
LOCATION:
Graveyard, Central District
TIME:
Post-Outbreak || July 20th, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
???
Phantom of Euphoric Memories

Mindless, soulless. Puppets skulked, weaving and toppling over gravestones, nails dug worn down against rock and soil. Haunting groans and feral screams. A horrifying sight, human bodies disfigured into phantoms that barely hung to familiar surface features.

These ungodly beings wandered through corrupted earth, rest forbidden as their feet clamored through the soil. The mindless horde silhouettes through the night, glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness, weaving between their stumbling bodies. Disorganized unions focused on cohesion and discontent.

The moon hung high in the air, the celestial body basking in the madness in light that broke through the branches of dying trees, glistening off the dew that hung to grass from recent rain. The stench in the air is a mixture of petrichor and cruor. A night of monsters where zombies reign free, unfettered, unstoppable.

“Kekekekekekek! KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK!”

And along with them came a demon. A silhouette slammed a foot atop a columbarium, uncaring for the resting souls beneath his heel. From his figure, horns sprout from his head, and wings come from his back, a barbed tail swinging behind his legs.

With a flick of a match, struck to life, his face was basked in light, the shadowy features of cursed blood retreating into his body, and he was illuminated in an orange glow. The flame floated in front of the face, waving in the wind, the crooked grin he wore of jagged teeth on full display as his sharpened eyes looked down at the crowd of thralls.

“Interesting! Real fuckin' interesting! Kekekekekek!” The demon observed, leaning downwards from his higher position to scan his vision around the sea of scalps surrounding him. His cackling echoed above their groans and demands as he found the ensuing chaos to his amusement.

“Kekekekekek! I like it! What’s this?! Morabaraba!? Backgammon!?” He wondered, blowing a bubble of gum between his lips as he stood straight, “Guess I’ll find out! Let’s start this game with a BANG! KEKEKEKEKEK!”

Laughing like a madman, Pei reached underneath his jacket, pulling out a red cylinder. He brought its wick up to the match in his fingers, and it quickly caught alight as it began to burn.

Like a soccer ball, he placed it at his feet, and with a step back before, he surged forward with a sharp kick, sending it spiraling through the air.

And then it exploded, its massive shockwave shooting through the air, popping the gum bubble against his lips as his hair rustled. The ends of his coat fluttered as dust and leaves blew past him.

His tongue slid out of his mouth, scooping the gum back into his mouth. He put his hands into his pockets, watching the smoke float away in the air, and he continued to laugh under his breath.

“I'll call that the starter pistol!"

He sharply turned around, stretching his arms wide and up in the air as his mouth opened wide. A frenzied look in his eyes gleamed as he looked up at the moon, his gaping jaw filled with jagged and barbed teeth.

“Let’s start putting our players on the board and see how long it takes for the other side to fold! KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK! ”

 
ALICE
SCENE:
Two Can Cross the Threshold
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Alice, Charlie
Two Can Cross the Threshold
Alice had passed a mom-and-pop gas station, through an alley of smoking young adults (who she ran from when one tried flirting), and around an old lady at a bus stop when found herself at her destination. Mach Sling. An old bowling alley destroyed a while back thanks to gang activity. The rubble inside was mostly cleared out and a temporary roof established. There were plans for a grand reopening, but with the earthquake and the ensuing outbreak, it didn't seem likely.

The only light coming from wear and tear in the ceiling and emptiness pervaded the once crowded building. Alice pondered the idea that she'd been led astray until a lighter produced flame for a cigarette.

N9e7ugv.png
"I bet drinks that you wouldn't come." Dormouse blew a puff of smoke. "Been a while, princess."

Alice stumbled back, bracing herself. "Y-You're—"

"Hey, chill out. We won't bite. And the guy who didn't take kindly to following orders is dead."


That was enough for Alice's shoulders to relax. "If you're here... Then Janay...?"

Dormouse smirked, dropping her cigarette. She stomping it out under her heel. "Come over here."

That wasn't comforting. Nor an answer. Alice didn't come all this way just to fall for the same old tricks. "Where is he?!"

The other girl blinked, not expecting such a loud voice from her. Dormouse pushed herself off the wall, approaching. "In the hole." With the snap of her fingers, the ground opened up beneath Alice. Her scream only lasted a second before the room below took her.

Dormouse jumped down after.

But instead of Wonderland, Alice fell onto the cold concrete. Concrete, Dormouse's tobacco, and a pitch black corridor. "We had to lie low after busting Janay out," she remarked, taking the lead. "Today's your lucky day..."

Down the rabbit hole they went.

Roda the Red Roda the Red
 

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