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

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Robin Krantz
SCENE:
DAND,NBV,BBESCA11PM [July 10th, 2022]
LOCATION:
Old TeleTech Telecommunications Office Building, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin, Takakazu, Hiachi
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
"...Would you like to know some neat facts about sharks? Considering your gang refers to themselves as sharks, it seems fitting."

Muffled groans and attempts at voicing words could be heard from the bound teenager across the room, a leather strap pulled tight around his head over his mouth. Tight enough to force his mouth open, his teeth visible and biting down on the worn blackened strip. He struggled to free himself, but his hands and feet were also bound, though using zip ties instead of leather strips or even rope or cloth. He was covered in blood, the red staining the work leather vest and grey t-shirt he had on. His camo cargo pants had less on them, but were more covered in tears and holes from the struggle that occurred to get him into such a state.

Robin Krantz smiled, as she twirled the butterfly knife around in her hand. Her red eyes locked onto the teenager's brown ones. She could see the fear in his eyes, the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and cheeks. He was cute. A bit young to be part of a gang. None of that mattered now, however, as he was part of the Obsidian (or 'Black', as some of them had called themselves) Sharks. A young, up-and-coming gang out of the northern portion of the West District. Honestly, she felt as though they may have came from somewhere in the Northern District, breaking away from the Serpents and wanting to make a name for themselves on their own.

These gangsters were squatting in the old TeleTech Telecommunications office on the east side of the district. TeleTech Telecommunications had been defunct for about fifteen to twenty years, now, and the property was in a prime location for something new to spruce up the area. The property was picked up about two years ago by a subsidiary of Hashimoto Real Estate, with the intent to renovate the property and construct something new. However, this bunch decided to swoop in and squat on it, intending to make it a new headquarters of sorts for their gang.

This was a completely avoidable situation, on their part. She had given them a warning, which is what she had been requested to do. Leave the property or suffer significant consequences. In addition, they were a lesser gang encroaching on Tigers territory. Two problems with a simple solution.

They had reacted violently to the warning. She was forced to defend herself. Twelve bodies in all. All that was left, now, was to deal with this last one. He'd be number thirteen. A baker's dozen.

“Sharks can smell blood from a mile away. If they stop swimming, they die. They have sharp skin. They're also some of the fastest swimmers in the oceans.”

The boy shifted, still trying to get free. She smiled wider.

"...They also don't take their time when they kill. They do it quickly."

The boy froze, giving her a terrified look. Her eyes narrowed, as she stopped twirling the butterfly knife.

"...I'm not a shark."


To: Ryu

From: Robin

The infestation has been removed.

They didn't like our demands, and decided to propose a counter-offer.

Property will need a thorough clean-up. Apologies for the mess, Boss.


Robin tapped the send button. That was... nice, honestly. She hadn't had a good group ordeal like that in quite a while. She glanced up to the sky, standing outside in the courtyard of the office building. A bright moon, almost full. Stars were out. Nice night. She took a breath, before looking back down to her clothes. Blood spatter. Not huge splotches, but certainly noticeable.

She'd need to get back to her car and change. Thankfully it was parked a block away, just outside a Payday Loan shop.

She started walking, swinging around the low wall that served as a makeshift fence for the office building and moving up the street. As she walked, she reached into her pocket and drew out her headphones. Wireless, easy to tuck away and no wires to have to manage. Into her ears the black earbuds went, and a few swipes on her phone was all it took for music to begin to seep into her ears.



She walked for a few minutes, humming along to the music as she glanced about. It was surprisingly serene here at night. Thought it was likely the night crawlers were out and about. If a blade didn't dissuade them, then twelve short and fat chunks of lead tucked into the small of her back would. That was, of course, if any bothered her.

Eventually, she rounded the corner of the block and paused. Her car was... gone? What the fuck?

She lightly jogged down the sidewalk, eyeing the spot where her car had been parked before before looking about. The Payday Loans shop was closed. There were other cars still parked in other spots in the area. Where the hell did her car go? Did someone steal it? She had locked the thing before leaving. She still had the key on her.

She checked her phone, pulling up the app to locate where her car was currently sitting. When she saw where it was, a frown appeared on her face. It had been towed. Why? She hadn't parked in a no-towing zone. At least, she didn't think she had. She inspected the parking spot, looking for markings on the asphalt before looking for chipped or obscured signs nearby. Eventually, she discovered a sign hidden in a bush next to the shop.

NO PARKING AFTER 6 PM. YOU WILL BE TOWED.

"...Shit." she muttered to herself, then sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. Who could she call at this time of the night? Ryu was probably asleep. She grumbled slightly, as she began to walk down the sidewalk. This wasn't good. She was covered in blood. Not hers, of course, but still. If someone saw her, the police would likely be called. That also meant a taxi would be out of the question.

It was times like this that she wished that she actually had spent more time actually becoming acquainted with other Tigers.

She eventually tucked her phone and earbuds away, before drawing her pistol from the small of her back. A simple chamber check followed, with one hand, before she slipped it back into its resting place. It looked like she'd be walking until she could figure out what to do.



thebigfella thebigfella miki miki
 
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PORCINE DIVINE
SCENE:
Hog in the Henhouse
LOCATION:
The Sty in the Sky, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Porcine Divine
HOG IN THE HENHOUSE
A pig sits atop its throne, hand clasped around an ornate glass. It opened its maw, tusks hanging out even more than usual as its whole body shook with laughter. Spittle and drink sprayed onto the floor, where a sow sat, covered in what was left of a spilt tray of slop. The job had few perks, and many, many downsides, but at least it couldn’t see her crying behind the mask. Always smiling, always serving…

“Porcine Divine, I’m-”

Time stopped. Every set of eyes, masks and all stared at the door, where a piglet stood.

“I’m here to report that-”

The intruder stopped on sight of the sow. He reached a hand toward her briefly but decided not to voice his protests. It didn’t matter, it was enough. The pig glanced at its watch. Ten seconds of time wasted.

“The Canadestrian job is underway. I’ve just received word that they’ve arrived. No complications yet.”

The pig rose from its throne, towering over everyone. Behind him, the sow shook her head frantically, but she couldn’t speak. The intruder froze in place. Everybody froze in place.

“Thank you, piglet.”

Its hand embraced the piglet’s face. Its grip tightened and slammed the piglet against the wall.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

SLAM.


Ten hits against the wall weren’t needed. Fortunately for the piglet, he was dead by the first, and now his body crumpled into itself, reduced to fleshy paste. Pulling its hand back to its face, it only held a bit of goo and bones now. It opened its maw again, shoving the hand inside and licking it clean. It pointed to the mush. It didn’t need to say a word. Two piglets observing on the sidelines sprung to action. One disappeared behind a door, returning quickly with a tray. The other shovelled the remains onto it.

“Porcine Divine. Would you like it now, or later?”

The pig had already sat back on its throne, resting two trotters on the table in front of him. Its old, spilt tray sat dangling over the edge. Porcine kicked it off, and it smacked the face of the sow on the floor.

“Understood.”

A cloth landed on its lap, and a tray of fresh slop upon that, and it began to devour. As the sound of music filled the room, the sow got to her feet, brushing the slop off her body. To the rhythm, she began to dance for it, and the pig was pleased again.

A pig sits atop its world. It need not concern itself with human matters below, for it is just a pig.



RICKY BROWNING
SCENE:
Hog in the Henhouse
LOCATION:
The Canadestrian Embassy, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ricky Browning
HOG IN THE HENHOUSE
“Is it necessary for me to be on-site for this? Can’t I just write a Bleat to spread awareness”

“It’s important to connect to the people after such a tragedy, Sir.”

“Some people shouldn’t be connected with.” The minister looked up at the rear-view mirror, adjusting his outfit. “I need to connect with my voters. Did you see the bum that walked in front of us back there? Spare some change, please. He isn’t winning me votes. Thought this city was full of opportunities.”

“With all due respect, he probably just lost his home.”

The car fell silent as they looked out the windows. Every few second, a bump would throw them off their concentration. Surrounding them was a hollow shell of what was once a fine city centre. Life went on, of course, but it was hard to imagine this was once one of the gems of their Southern brothers.

“Poverty and homelessness have risen dramatically in the last month- You did read the speech we prepared, didn’t you, Browning?”

Browning patted his suit pocket.
“Yeah, I read it- Hey, you don’t think there’s still any of those freaks roaming, do you?”

“I doubt it, Sir. But we’ve hired extra security just in case.”

The car pulled up to the embassy, miraculously still standing despite all that’s been happening. A group of journalists swarmed in as the car came to a stop. Armed guards surrounded the area.

“You call this security!? I want what the Prime Minister gets if I have to be here.”

“Well, if you were the Prime Minister, you’d get the Prime Minister’s security. This is your security.”



MERCY SLADE, SAMUEL FORD
SCENE:
Hog in The Henhouse
LOCATION:
Central Library, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Corvo, Mercy [NPC], Musai, Pei, Samuel [NPC]
HOG IN THE HENHOUSE
“That’s him! That’s his car!!”
The library next to the embassy was just as grand but hadn’t held up nearly as well. That was fine though. Nobody would be reading right now anyway, and it made a perfect stake-out spot for a group of Phoenixes. Mercy, the lady in front, had her face near pressed against one of the large windows, gazing at the scene in awe. A tall man, Samuel, pulled her back, out of view of anyone who happened to be watching.

“I’m surprised the bastard’s showing his face at all. The coward.”

“Exciting, isn’t it? Not every day you see a foreign politician.”

“Hopefully the last. Why don’t we just let them kill this guy? It’s not like anyone would care-”

“I care!” Mercy looked to the others, searching for any support. “We’ve got a job to do!! And we can’t just sit around here. What if they’re ready to kill him now!”

She put her hands on her hips in a triumphant stance. “Let’s go show these guys who's in charge of death around here!”



PORCINE'S FAVOURITE PIGLET
SCENE:
Hog in the Henhouse
LOCATION:
Ruined Lot, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kisara, Khydnah's Khyn, Porcine's Favourite Piglet [NPC], The Pope
HOG IN THE HENHOUSE
The shrubbery and rubble on the other side of the embassy was not grand in the slightest. Photographers in the area made sure to consider it in their framing. Some conveniently angled away to show the proud and mighty Amestria. Others made sure it was prominent in the background. The poor poor New Oasis civilians living in squalor, saved by a Canadestrian… Every time a camera flashed their way, a pig-masked fellow took his fellow pigs behind cover. Who knew what monument they stood on the remains of? Porcine’s Favourite Piglet rarely spent time here.

“He’s heeere~” Porcine’s Favourite Piglet looked to the sky, hands clasped. “Oh Porcine Divine, I hope you’re watching.” He looked back down, mumbling, “Even if you’re not, you can check out the news later.”

He pulled out a pair of cleavers, and peeked over a piece of shrubbery to see a car door crack.

“Now, we wanna make a spectacle of this. Show off the Porcine brand. Ain’t it great, we’ve been paid to advertise ourselves! But how tough do you think those Sapien scumbags are? Or should I say, Potentialis scum? Think it’ll be a quick in-and-out job? We could move in now… What say ye?” He looked to his piggy friends, his permanent smile showing no awareness of any offense he may have caused. He spoke with the franticness of a boy about to meet Santa for the first time.

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
LOCATION:
West District
DATE:
July 10th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin ( Infab Infab ) Hiachi ( miki miki )
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM

A lonely night, a lonely street. The cracked pavement is illuminated by headlights. Tires spun across the street, the low rumblings of a choking engine sounding as if it could barely keep running. A silver scooter is the only thing driving on this street.

There was a missing mirror and a dent across the front. Its muddied and scraped metal sheen was as if it had been hit with a rock, crumbling like aluminum. Faint marks of paint hung around its lower banding, but most of it had peeled away.

A long, drawn-out yawn, a smacking of lips. Tired eyes, distant and uninterested, blinked with tears in the corners, lips frowned, and an uneven-shaven stubble going above his lips and under his chin.

A bowl-shaped helmet, and a pair of goggles. Both sat upon his head, the helmet swallowing all of his messy, unkempt hair, its white eggshell color joined with a checkered stripe across the middle, goggles strapped above the visor.

"Seriously…." Began a complaint from Tak, his posture growing slack upon his scooter, "It's really too late for this…Even vampires and crooked politicians are asleep at this time."

His glance turned up toward the moon; even though he didn't know exactly what time it was, he could make an estimate. The only reason he was out here was to…well, it didn't matter. He was already halfway there.

"Still, there ain't even anything open at this time. I'm working when even the minimum wage teens aren't, damnit." Tak continued to bitch to no one, a scowl growing on his face as he thought more about It, "Isn't that unfair? While everyone else sleeps in their big, comfy beds, I'm here? They're cuddled up in their covers and laying with sexy women, and I'm here?" Tak's grip tightened on his handles, gritted teeth, and protruding veins of anger as he did nothing but rile himself up.

"I should burn every mattress in the world. I should bring down mattress factories. Maybe even go as far as destroying the cotton industry! Damn, comfy-ass bed havers! I hope your mom's still kissing you on the cheek, ya bastards!"


As if he were insane, his shouting echoed through the night. For a long moment, he said nothing, stewing in his own annoyance as he continued to drive.

His headlights beamed across the street, the sidewalk included. Within the scattered cars across the street, he spotted something in the distance that made him squint.

"That's a really tall fire hydrant…" his eyes tried to take the blurred shape and give it some explanation, but without much thought, he began to naturally slow down as he got closer. From a sketched and colored fire hydrant that looked drawn by a child, did it shift to reality. A woman stood on the sidewalk, coated in streaks of crimson.

Immediately, Tak's expression flattened, his body slouching with deadpan disinterest.

"It's just a girl covered in blood," he thought dryly as if the whole situation was mundane. As he grew closer to driving past her, he tried to act like he hadn't seen her as he stared forward.

"I should just mind my own business. I have my own problems to deal with. They have nothing to do with me." Was his rationale. And so, without thinking further about it.

He drove past, not even taking a glance over.












He only made it a few feet before it started to nag at him. First, only a few beads of sweat across the side of his head, then the sounds of the strained groaning of discomfort within his diaphragm, twitching brows and lips curled as his eyes scrunched closed. Guilt eating him up from the inside, gnawing at his nape like an elderly vampire who had forgotten their dentures.

"...DAMMNIT!"

Guilt finally beat out his rationale. Abruptly, he slammed on the brakes to sharply drift the scooter back around, skidding across the pavement before the return of the gas launched dust underneath his wheels.

When the woman was back in sight, his speed gradually slowed, the engine coughing and hacking into a subdued snore as he stopped. He stared at her for a moment without saying anything, as if trying to figure out how he should even handle the situation.

"Oi…" he began, once again perspiration beginning to find its place on his forehead, as the ridiculous circumstances began to dawn on him.

"The hell's your problem? Do you need to go to the hospital or somethin'?"


It seem like a question that raised genuine concern...but from within, a ghastly blue representation of his inner thoughts pulled itself out of his psyche into the metaphysical, his cheeks pulled tightly into his sunken jaw his eyes were shadowed with desperation, "PLEASE SAY THERE'S NO PROBLEM! JUST SAY YOU'RE ON YOUR PEROID! LE ME GO AWAY WITHOUT HAVING TO WORRY! LET ME SLEEP AT HOME WITH NOT A SHRED OF GUILT, I'LL EVEN DRINK A WARM GLASS OF MILK TO MAKE SURE I CAN SLEEP EXTRA WELL, SO JUST SAY NO!" His thoughts screamed internally, hoping that he could drive off without any regret. Though, his face didn't show it, besides the faint twitch in the corner of his lip.





 
CHARLIE HUGHES
CS Link
SCENE:
Two Can Cross the Threshold
TIME:
Post-Outbreak, Late July 2022
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Alice
Two Can Cross the Threshold
Charlie's heartbeat returned to something resembling that of a normal person as soon as the distant screams waned into a faint distant choir, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as the distant light begun to bathe his terse skin. But hope is a path with two destinations, to reach its triumphant peak, or to tumble down in defeat, the latter proving to be the chosen result this time around, both figuratively and literally.

Whatever firearm the woman was holding, it certainly packed a punch, his ears ringing from the powerful blow to his head. He instinctively held his arms up, covering his face, his best strategy was to withstand the inevitable barrage of bullets that were soon to come, and to break free as soon as her chamber ran dry. All the while, he'd hope for Alice to heed his words and head to freedom on her own. He'd find her again, refusing to go down by the hands of some petty group. He grit his teeth, bracing for impact and hoping for a proper opening.

But where lead was ought to strike, the gentle caress of sunlight was felt, a confused rookie slowly opening his eyes, golden rays seeping through the gap of his guard. "...What is..." His hands met the flowing blades of grass, his vision taking into the beauty of the emerald expanse. "So I'm here again..." Before he could even finish his original question, memory brought back glimpses of the past. He understood that he was invited once more, an unexpected third visit to the Wonderland.

Focusing back on the woman, Charlie swiped his leg, his ankle free from her treacherous grip. Following the momentum of his kick, he spun on his arms, pushing himself off the grassy terrain and back on his feet. The ground shook beneath the two, almost bringing Charlie back eating a mouthful of grass, but his footwork was stable enough to stop midway. He began too look frantically over his surroundings, looking for the source of the tremors.

Moreso than the cataclysmic sight erupting in his vicinity, it was Alice that worried him the most, or rather, the fact she was nowhere to be seen. But despite his wish to rearrange his priorities, he knew that dealing with the dark haired woman's intrusion had to be tackled sooner or later, and no better moment than when her guard was lowered.

He lunged at her, aiming to throw a blow at her stomach, the approaching horde visible past her thin frame. He was more used to the wonderland than the rabbits, possibly a blessing in disguise in this tumultous occasion.

"Alice! Where are you?!" He'd never forgive himself, had she been taken once more due to his carelesness.


@AriAriAbabwa
 
The Bloodstained Swine
CS Link
SCENE:
Hog in the Henhouse
LOCATION:
Ruined Lot, Central District
DATE:
???
PARTICIPANTS:
Kisara, Khydnah's Khyn, Porcine's Favourite Piglet [NPC], The Pope
HOG IN THE HENHOUSE

It sat amongst the faces. Tickled pink smiles, vacant eyes that gluttonously consumed everything to only leave white. He stood with his hands in his pockets, body propped against a nearby wall. Amongst the other pigs, there was nothing to signify him.

Except for a single splotch of red across his forehead. Like a ketchup bottle, the first runny squirt left out from the emulsion before you shake it. They moved first, leaving the authentic condiments behind as they stepped forward. The sun came across, soaking into his black clothes, and his messy blonde hair fluttered in the wind.

“Kekekekek. You want a spectacle? Huh? Is that it!?” His form slouched. From his pockets came pale hands. Jagged nails reached up to place themselves on the rim of the mask, making sure it was in place as he twirled around to the rest of the porcine. Even if they could not see it, they could feel his grin.

“Good! I like the sound of that! Guerilla marketing is always a blast! Kekekekek!” The pig cackled, his hands reaching into the neck of his turtleneck, digging into the unknown as if his fingers transported into a world unknown, and when it returned, within his grasp was a single button on top of a buzzer.

“We might as well be truffle hunters, then! Dig up the treasure underground as it clings to the roots! Then devour it!” He shouted from behind the mask, and without hesitation, his finger slammed down on the button.

For a moment, there was nothing, and no one could hear it. Silent flashes, red dots placed within shadow, underneath cars, escaped from the sun's illumination. The only signal of a trigger was the silence that followed the rapid flashing.

And then it went off.

Lines of cars went off in succession, balls of heat, ignited from a fuse that sparked gasoline, like balls of napalm and shrapnel of glass and metal, a path to hell paved with the sounds of tears within the sound barrier and crumbling frames lead all the way towards the Embassy, it circled around, trails through alleys that ignited trials in wait, snail trails that threaded underneath gates and dumpsters, ignition that all rose high, black smoke and orange inferno.

A circle formed around the Embassy and the nearby blocks, composed of fences of flames and totaled cars. From the height of the sky, the visible ring crawled up the walls of buildings, catching upon flags and cloth awnings. Visible distortions of heat grew as the whole world became engrossed in the heat of a new intensity.


“Kekekekekek! How’s that for a New Oasis welcome!?” He tossed the detonator to the side, self-satisfied as he watched the ensuing chaos; stepping forward into the madness as people began to scramble and scream, he turned back towards the members of his sounder, “Watch as the fuckhead retreats into the only place he thinks are safe. Once we’re inside, it’s already checkmate!”

With his boast, he fused with the crowd. His hand reached up to grasp the beginnings of his mask, lifting it up just enough to show his snaggly-toothed smirk before he pulled it back down and wandered into the unknown, swallowed by the frantic pedestrians.

 
Robin Krantz
SCENE:
DAND,NBV,BBESCA11PM [July 10th, 2022]
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin, Takakazu, Hiachi
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
Robin had paused for a few moments, trying to scroll through her phone yet again for someone she could call. That was, until she noticed the sound of a vehicle approaching, and the light from its headlights bathing the asphalt near her. One of the smaller variety of vehicles, judging from the noise it made. As she glanced back, she noticed it was a moped. It looked beat up, barely held together by whatever love and care its owner had given it. Missing a mirror, dents, missing paint... and the driver looked as though he didn't seem particularly interested in her.

Maybe he had somewhere to be. She certainly wasn't going to bother him.

He drove by, and she returned to looking at her phone. That was, her attention was drawn back to the moped as it skid to a stop a short distance away and spun around. She cocked an eyebrow, as the moped came back and stopped next to her.

He stared at her for a few moments, and she stared back. Eyebrow still cocked and studying his features. But after a moment, her eyes widened slightly. Wait a minute, I know this guy. He's a Tiger. One of the others Ryu sends to do things. I think his name is... Takakazu or something.

Then Tak spoke, and a smirk appeared on her face as she looked down at her clothes. "Oh, no. I'm quite alright. None of this blood is mine, so no need for a hospital. I do need a ride, though, if you're offering." she explained, slipping her phone into her pocket. "My name is Robin. You're Tak, right? I'm one of the Tigers, too. Ryu sent me on a errand out here, and I was attacked. Issue's been resolved, but... my car was towed before I could get back to it."

The smirk changed to a genuine smile afterwards. "I'll give you a grand if you help me out."




thebigfella thebigfella miki miki
 
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RYUTARO HASHIMOTO
CS Link
SCENE:
Blood Pact
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ryutaro, Robin
Blood Pact
Ryu looked down towards the knife given to him, twirling the hilt in between his fingers as he looked over its make. It was light as a feather, yet remained sharp and deadly for its wielder. Inconspicuous yet dangerous, a characterization that matched its original owner as Ryu glanced back up to Robin. "Nor attract unwanted attention with dead cops in addition to Palvarotti." Ryu said in agreement as he pocketed the knife before leading her outside. The sirens remained in the distance as the two returned to the outside air, though it was obvious that they would come upon the scene soon.

And it would be a sight for the papers for sure, as they passed by the bodies that remained motionless; a clear path of carnage laid to waste by 'The Ripper'. In Ryu's mind he could already imagine the headlines tomorrow, but for now he was more focused on leaving. Fortunately, he had brought his own transportation nearby - his trusty Triangong 440X - and clicked a button for both doors to open. "After you." Ryu then invited Robin, motioning a hand to the passenger seat as the two approached about a street down from Palvarotti's estate. The interior was as deluxe as one could imagine for a car as exclusive as only 200 ever being produced.

It wasn't just a status symbol, but also a display of the power of capital that Ryu held as he then took to the wheel and closed the doors.


Infab Infab
 
Robin Krantz
SCENE:
Blood Pact
LOCATION:
Palvarotti Villa, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin, Ryutaro
Blood Pact
As they left the Palvarotti villa, Robin was quite curious as to how they would be escaping law enforcement. She had used a taxi to get there, earlier in the day. Quite a chunk of change for the cost too, as it was across the city from the East District. She was pretty sure Ryu had brought his own vehicle, however. What respectable businessman wouldn't?

Eventually, she would see it. It honestly surprised her, as she had never seen anything even remotely like it. Looks insanely expensive. He really does like the finer things in life.

She walked around and climbed into the passenger seat, upon his instruction. The interior looked just as luxurious as the exterior. She wondered how he came to acquire the vehicle. She also wondered if she should even ask. Either way, it seemed as though they would be making a smooth getaway as he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. Soon enough, the vehicle pulled out of its parking spot and darted off into the night. Not long after, police cruisers would arrive on scene at the Palvarotti estate and their occupants would begin to take in the death Robin had left in her wake.

- END OF SCENE -

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
LOCATION:
West District
DATE:
July 10th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin ( Infab Infab ) Hiachi ( miki miki )
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM


“Oh, that’s good then,” Tak was already prepared to ride back off as soon as he heard that the woman was exemplary; his head turned back towards the road ahead only for a breath before reality seemed to visibly smack him on the head, his body cocking forward as he nearly slammed his face into the front of his scooter before his head snapped back to look at Robin with shock and terror, “The hell are you, some kind of butcher!?”

His assumption of occupation didn’t get to live long, though; Robin’s quick clarification of the situation made Tak’s face scrunch up like a loading screen within his head. He slowly tried to put the pieced together, though, on impulse to the introduction, he replied curtly with a nod, “Oh, nice to meet ya…” those words lingered on his tongue before his thoughts caught up, his eyes bulging out of his skull as once again fear painted itself across his transparent countenance, “The hell do you mean by resolved?! Did you chop them up into little bits for fun or something!? Chipped ham!?” He shouted an outburst of the ridiculousness of how casually she spoke of the scenario; it was short-lived disbelief before his focus turned back onto the fact at hand, his over-the-top expression flattening out to a neutral look of non-compliance.

“No way am I having you get that blood all over my seats. It’ll stain, just like when your little brother grabs your controller with melted chocolate all over his fingers, and ya gotta beat the shit outta him.” Tak’s tangent, while unneeded, stated his stance clearly. He wasn’t interested in giving the blood-soaked woman a ride, even with the new clarification of circumstances. His eyes closed for a moment, signifying his determination for his stance, more of confirmation for himself to continue his life of being uncaring for others' plights before Robin’s next words made his eyelids flip open like they were springloaded.

He pulled his hands off the handles. “O-One grand?! That’s like…” He took a moment to count on his fingers, growing sweat once again sticking to his temple as he held up three fingers towards Robin as if the number was something incredibly high. “Three zeroes!?”

As the authenticity of such numbers permeated his mind, floating visages of his purchases danced and floated across his vision. Xianese takeout, movie rentals, pin-up mags, booze, and all other things he needed to survive glistened within his vision. Abruptly, his art style changed. Bushy brows thickened, his jaw elongated and grew a cleft, well-defined cheekbones, and positive canthal tilt adorned his new highly-detailed art direction.

“Hop on,” a gruff voice from a completely different person came somewhere from within Tak’s body as he revved his engine. “Even if you want to go to the world's end, I shall get you there.”

A bold claim that only lasted a second before, with a poof, Tak was back to his usual self, an oblivious open-mouthed expression with a matching “Oh” of remembrance, turning back to Robin, “I forgot. I gotta pick up someone else first. She’s a Tiger too,” Tak explained an afterthought now despite the fact she was the reason he was out here in the first place.


 
Christina Winchester
SCENE:
Bloodlines & Bank Accounts [July 18th, 2022]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Christina, Helva, Karina, Sheridan
Bloodlines & Bank Accounts
Monday morning. Christina yawned, stretching as she sat up on her almost bare mattress. It was summer, so it often got hot enough to not really need sheets. Maybe a comforter or something, but not much else. Was also the reason she was sleeping in her underwear these days. Maybe she needed to look into getting the air conditioner replaced. Thing sounded like a busted lawnmower if it ran too long.

She ran a hand through her silver hair, combing it out of her face as her blue eyes shifted to the alarm clock nearby. Seven o'clock. Early enough. Enough time for a workout, shower, and quick breakfast somewhere. Then, time to hit the town as she often did. See what the other Phoenixes were up to. Maybe even check into that job opening up at Vic's Corner Theater. Seemed like a nice little thing she could do to earn some side cash. Not that she really needed it, but she needed to start sticking money back into the bank. She had gone a bit overboard with spending after the Britonnia trip last week.

Maybe it was her mother that was eating at her. Why waste thoughts on her? She had others to focus on now, and she wasn't in Britonnia anymore.

“What should I do today... Full routine? Yeah, probably best.” she muttered to herself as she swung her legs off the bed and stood up. If you forget what you did the day before, do a full routine.

The little apartment she had on the west side of the South District was simplistic in design. Three rooms, consisting of a den/kitchen combo, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It wasn't special at all, really, and even on the cheaper end of apartments in the area. The wallpaper in the den looked like it hadn't been changed since the '90s, and the tile in the bathroom needed fixing. The bedroom was alright, after they had pulled up the shit brown carpet that used to be in there. Now it was simply dark colored hardwood. The kitchen was a yucky yellow color, but she could live with it for the time being. She'd get a better apartment somewhere else eventually. This was just to settle in for now so she didn't have to keep living out of her car.

After her morning workout, she moved to the bathroom. A hot shower, with abnormal water pressure, followed. Then, it was time to pick out what she'd wear for the day. Which was a suit. It was almost always a suit. One of the things that stuck around from her parents was how to dress. You needed to look like a professional. She was a boxer. A two-time Britonnian light heavyweight champion, in fact. She was a professional.

Once she was dressed, her hair was styled and make-up was applied. She didn't wear a lot. Just a little. Then, it was time to find something to chow down on for breakfast. The question was what was she in the mood for?

...Sausage, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns. Maybe some toast, with a nice cup of coffee. Yeah, that sounds fantastic.

It wasn't long before she had descended from the third floor of the apartment complex, moving out to the parking area and locating her car. The black Chevelle SS remained untouched. Who in their right mind would even fuck with it? Most knew she was a Phoenix around here now, so it wasn't the best of ideas to fuck with a Phoenix's stuff. She climbed into the driver's seat, shutting the door with a loud clack before shoving the key into the ignition. A twist made the engine rumble. A second made it come to life.

She tapped the lighter on the dash, pushing it in while she fumbled for her cigarettes in her pocket. Eventually, she drew one out and slipped it between her lips before the lighter popped back out. Ready to be used. A simple press of the cigarette's end to the red hot metal followed, and she was ready to go. Not long afterwards, she was pulling the muscle car out of the parking lot into early morning traffic. Looking for a restaurant that was serving the kind of breakfast she wanted.



Half of her time driving was spent tapping on the steering wheel, her fingers matching the drum beat of the songs that came on the radio. She even sang along to a few songs. The ones she knew, that is. Eventually, she'd find herself pulling into the parking lot of a local Shuffle House. Greasy joint. Good food, though, at really any time of the day. Good to her, at least. She'd spend an hour there, simply enjoying her meal, before moving on to other things. She checked her watch as she left the restaurant. Almost 11 AM.

She decided to swing by the Phoenix HQ, to see if anything needed doing. However, as she pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and climbed out, she found herself pausing to check her phone. An e-mail? From one 'Karina Zemova'. Subject: Financial Future. She almost deleted the message, thinking it was spam, until she remembered that her mother mentioned a woman by that name here in New Oasis that did accounting work for her. Curious, she opened the message and read over it.

Something to do with her mother's financial history? What's that got to do with her? And of course, they want to meet at the Bio-Link Pharmaceuticals office. Christina knew her mother owned majority stock in the company. It'd be like meeting on her home turf.

She had to be there by 12:30 too. Not too long from now. Would give her plenty of time to think it over, as well as find someone to go with her. She wasn't about to walk into this by herself. Not with this Karina woman. Her mother had dealings with the Serpents, so it was likely Karina was one.

Christina sighed, then grumbled to herself as she shoved her phone in her jacket pocket. A nice day, likely ruined. She looked about, taking a drag off a fresh cigarette she had lit before pulling into the parking lot and exhaling the smoke into the air. Who could she bring? It needed to be someone that understood these kinds of things. Rich families and the like.

She raised an eyebrow as a name came to mind. Helva. Wasn't she from a rich family? She hadn't really interacted with the woman much, only knowing what she knew through other lower level Phoenixes and people like Ashley. Where the hell would Helva be, though? She leaned against the Chevelle's door, scratching her jaw as she thought it over.



Breadman Breadman YumenoTsukishiro YumenoTsukishiro Peckinou Peckinou
 
Zentsupa Pei
SCENE:
Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile
LOCATION:
Underground Arena, South District
TIME:
July 21st, 2022 | | Post-Outbreak
PARTICIPANTS:
Mugen Elenion Aura Elenion Aura , Kisara simj26 simj26
Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile

The show was just beginning, but there were only so many previews someone could stand before wanting the actual program to start.

Pei sat with one leg crossed over the knee as he stared at the screens on display, his subdued smirk as he watched the “players” move across the arena.

His eyes gravitated upward and narrowed on the one screen that showed the realm outside the door he sat behind.

“Kekekekek. Took them long enough,” Pei spoke faintly of his anticipation, his posture shifting upward as he leaned his neck over the back of the couch, looking at the world upside down as he watched as the man entered.

“Yo,” he at least had the courtesy to greet him, Q-Bot's head perking up and peering beside him with curiosity.


Pei’s clothes shuffled as he pulled himself back into the cushions, undisturbed by the intruder. He rested a leg across the soda, grinning as Daiki took it all in. He only offered a faint glance at the open door that stood behind him and the blood that painted the walls and soaked into the floors.

“Kekekekek. As if I had anything to do with that,” Pei dismissed the viscera within the hall with a grin, turning his head upward as he turned away with disinterest. Instead, he patiently examined the screens as if waiting for something to appear. Daiki's question was enough to temporarily tear away his focus, a satisfied cackle leaving his lips as he pointed at his caricature on the paper.

“Kekekekek! Still carrying around that old thing, huh?” Pei acted like he had already forgotten its existence when he perked up, pointing to his face as he mimicked the silhouette perfectly, “I had a fun time putting those things around,” he slyly added, though considering his fun included thousands of dollars worth of property damage most wouldn't agree with his statement.


His body finally pulled itself out of the couch, bouncing onto his feet as he slid his hands into his pockets, strolling over to the tarp covered in crimson, the shadowed corpse hovered over by the puppet maker, thread pulled through the skin, sutured shut. Piles of guts and innards sat discarded in a bucket, flies swarming around the smell of rotting life.

Pei stood beside the grim sight, gleaming with a self-satisfied smirk at Daiki, “This is another part of the stress test. Another guinea pig…”

Pei's gaze narrowed as a faint cackle came from the back of his throat. A thin, bony finger pointing towards Daiki.

“Though, you have a trump card waiting to show, right?”





Ian Rath
CS Link
SCENE:
Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile
LOCATION:
Underground Arena, South District
DATE:
July 21st, 2022 | | Post-Outbreak
PARTICIPANTS:
Pei, Mugen, Kisara
Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile

There was silence amongst the crowd. Kisara's words had only a moment to sit, the pause to allow them to resonate or be discarded. That was the only moment they had been given.

A soft chuckle, one unfounded from the complicity of the ones that had decided they would not fight. The man of scales, a finger reaching up to adjust his glasses.

“A spectacle still? Some people never change,” the man spoke under his breath. He did not know if Kisara remembered him, but it did not matter.

“Futility is something all people abide by. Higher powers. Rules," He stepped out from the line, his tail swayed, scraping on the ground, undisturbed by the face of neither Ryoji nor Kisara's influence. “Warriors pledge allegiance to their kings, and wrestlers are under contract. At the end of the day, to fight, one must kneel for a purpose. Whether defined for them or not.”

He was not a fan of getting himself involved in squabbles. He hated nothing more than pointless fights. But even more, he disliked those who went through life with their own ridiculous ideals, wanting everyone to follow.

Grow up.




He supposed he could give the woman a bit of slack. After all, she was still young.

A small part of him felt embarrassed for letting himself get pulled into the scenario. His thoughts traveled to the boy with the cut that reminded him of his neighbors' lawns. To find purpose, huh?

He had given up on such a thing a long time ago. Though, he supposed hearing them out couldn’t hurt. This was another part of maturity. Letting someone share their new product with the knowledge your only answer is “no, thank you.”

Unfortunately, not everyone was gifted with the fact that he had grown to learn.



???
CS Link
SCENE:
Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile
LOCATION:
Underground Arena, South District
TIME:
July 21st, 2022 | | Post-Outbreak)
PARTICIPANTS:
Pei, Mugen, Kisara
Futility Smells of Rot, Feebleness Tastes of Bile

“Man…you got a pair of big lips, lady. I should just slap my meat right on’em.”

A crude voice came from the hall's shadows; footsteps drew attention. Reflexively, many stiffened as a silhouette parted through the darkness, his body given only pieces of light to place upon cascading strips across his body as the floodlight intensity gradually overtook the unknown more and more.

Gray hair spiked upon his scalp, his sagging posture as he trudged along, absentmindedly picking at his ear, his eyes darted across the arena, false and glassy, as they took in the display. Abruptly, his body straightened, his head turning towards the nearest person. His finger pointed towards their face with a simple question.

“Do you know Revenant?”

“Huh!? What--”


With a flick of his nail, the man’s head exploded into gray matter, shattered skull bits, and red mist.

“Bzzt.”

Everyone else within the line of non-fighters quickly stepped away; they piled over themselves to make distance, warbles and cries of terror as the faint feeling of being free from slaughter came to reality, the feeling of cattle when they are taken off the pasture and put on the slaughterhouse conveyor.

“You damn maniac…!” A hasty curse came from one who considered themselves a fighter. For a moment, she and others finally felt the desire to fight for themselves and what they thought was right, all converging on the sudden intruder.

All moments came to an end with a sharp snap, heavy thuds, and headless corpses on the ground.

A shish kabob decapitated upon his arm, which he uncaringly slid off like one would a row of bracelets, shaking the excess blood off his arm before he let out a sigh, looking around, not having much expectation, yet still disappointed.

“Still, nothing? You’re all useless. Guess bubblegum over here is right,” he remarked, turning his attention away from the fodder to walk towards Ryoji and Kisara, his body bristling with excitement; in contrast to the others, they seemed a bit interesting.

“I suppose I’ll ask anyway, but I can expect the answer…”

His hands clasped around a handful of skull fragments; like pieces of rock, he tossed them up and down within his palm.

“Helva. Revenant. Ring a bell?”

With a quick turn, the bone pieces flung out of his fingers, projectile shrapnel that slammed through the glass of the floodlights; the shattering glass rained down as everything fell into darkness.

A voice whispered within the unknown. “Time’s up.”

Hands moved through the darkness, aiming to rend flesh and crushed bone.

 
CHARLIE HUGHES
SCENE:
Young Blood
TIME:
Post-Outbreak, July 20th 2022
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hitoshi, Musai, Daigo
Young Blood
Charlie could measure that one more leap was all he needed to finally catch the runaway kid, bending his knees, he looked up to behold the disapproval stares from the surrounding civilians. "Hey, I'm not the bad guy here!" Rich coming from a gangster, to be honest. Right before he could get an earful and a handful from the irate passerbys, he jumped once more, soaring above them like an oddly-shaped eagle. He calculated his landing, hands outstretched to grab the kid as gently as possible as soon as he was within reach.

It was certainly curious how his swiping arms grasped as mere air. Time had stopped, Charlie's eyes going wide staring in disbelief at the empty space where the boy aught to be, and his eventual face planting to the concrete once time inevitable began to march forward once more. His recovery was surpringly smooth, the result of the same awkward landing taking place many a time in the past. Using the momentum to his advantage, he rolled a few times forward before transitioning to landing back on his feet.

"Why can't it ever be easy." He sighed, cleaning some concrete dust off his chin. Looking at the greater gap formed between the phoenixes and their target, the rookie new he'd have to opt for a different path to catch up. Thinking back on earlier today, he jumped high in the air, gripping at the ledge of an apartment complex, and pushed himself up to the roof.

By running on the rooftops, leaping from building to building, he was able to cut a lot of distance through the block. He jumped over a woman relaxing on a beach chair, her shades falling off in surprise as her vision was covered by an azure mane flowing through the wind.

Stepping over the ledge of the last building, Charlie was able to spot both the escaping child and Musai, Hitoshi nowhere to be seen, apparently. With ascertained smile, he dove down from the building, once more ready to catch the kid, this time with what he believed to be stealth on his side.
Hypercharge: Half-Activation

joshuadim joshuadim Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters-

 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
Everyone's a Critic
TIME:
Post-Arc 3, July 9th 2022
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Takakazu
Everyone's a Critic
"I didn't leave you, I was just giving you some motivational words!" She continued to run along, not even bothering to look at her junior playing victim, however giving her sleeves a glance after his following comment. "Well no shit, I had to hide because SOMEONE can't follow basic fucking instructions!" She took the opportunity to take her jacket off, folding it around her waist, her silver tail hiding beneath the wrinkles and crevices of the grey polyester. She then reached for the hairband on her wrist pulling her whole hair into a tight ponytail, her black locks disappearing under the layers of white. She wasn't quite sure what the level of security was in this gallery, but the the cameras had to work with to recognize her, the better. "Nice dress, by the way." She added as a snarky remark, eyeing Tak's half-naked figure. Normally she would've taken a second to enjoy the view, the sight of a well-built man in display, but it was hard to see Tak as anything other than...well, Tak.

She didn't even need to say a word to Tak regarding his fantasies of spy weaponry. All she needed was to shoot a cynical and judgemental stare, she oh so wanted to remind him that things got this messy to begin with because of him (well, it also was because of Camila to a degree, but that didn't matter~).

She didn't hesitate to squeeze through the opening cause by her partner's cartoonish antics, stepping on the back of one of the fallen guards as she skipped over the group, getting a high pinched yelp out of the man akin to squeezing a rubber duck. "Hm, Not bad." He wasn't going to get much praise out of her with something like that, dealing with the physical altercations was the least she expected from her brutish ally.

The pair's intrepid escape continued, soon finding themselves tailed by a wave of suited bruisers ready to not-so-gently apprehend them. "Tch...this sucks, why are there so many of them?!" Camila hissed under her breath, eyes quickly scanning the hall in hopes for any solution to come to her. The veteran may have never been the best regarding academics, but when it came to last-second plans, that she held with quite the pride.

"I think I got it!" From under her clothes, her tail shot upwards, reaching for a massive painting hanging concerningly loosely from the wall, its end wrapped around the polished bronze tip in the middle of the intrincate patterns of its heavy frame. She strained vibily, the muscles of her lower back bulging as she applied as much pulling force as possible. One of the negatives of her tail's slenderness was its lack of strength, but hopefully it'd just be enough to save them.

The large painting creaked, the weathered threads holding it in place tearing one after the other with satisfying snaps. The guards on the respective side of the hall slowed their pace, heads collectively turning to face the enormous artwork casting an ominous shade on them. The floor rumbled as a sizeable chunk of the incoming horde was buried under the heavy bronze frame. "Alright, follow me!"

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Camila ran over the face-down painting, mufled groans faintly heard from underneath. Jumping from the edge of the frame, she climbed atop window high up on the wall, using her arms and tail to help support her weight (Which isn't much, mind you!). "We've got a good path here!" She shouted into the hall, looking behind her shoulder to analyze the series of roofs from the many halls and rooms of the gallery. "We're leaving, get into position." She spoke over on her phone, a single tap of her thumb sending the audio to her designated contact. "Change of plans, we're running to the end of the east wing, let's go!" She commanded to the nudist man behind her.

"OUTTA THE WAY!" Shouted a familiar voice, thunderous steps walking up from the stairs, a massive bald head peeking into view. "I SAID OUTTA THE WAY!" Boris swatted his arm at a lesser guard in his way, the shorter man falling off the stairs with a peculiar scream. He spared the falling man a nonchalant glance before resuming his imposing advance.

"Oh I know a rat when I see it!" Belied by his bulky constitution, Boris effortlessly made his way to the roof, his baton rattling against the coarse leaning tiles of the hall's window. "Ya really made my day now, I get to bash yer fuckin' head in!" With a sadistic grin, he approached the duo with surprising speed.

"Tch! Ignore him, let's get the hell outta here!" Camila only hoped that Tak's priorities were in the right order for once.




thebigfella thebigfella
 
Welsha Reaper
SCENE:
What's the Tea
LOCATION:
Moonflower Cafe, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Yona Kowloong @CasualTea , Welsha Reaper
What's the Tea

Welsha had kept a cool head and thought about reclining her seat a little in order to lower her target area while still keeping herself stuck to the seat, but opted to not to thinking it would be a bit rude to do so. So instead she kept her head slumped down a bit in order to make herself a harder to hit target not wanting any stray bullet manages to hit her to end up hitting them, though despite that she could still feel all the hard turns the vehicle was making and peeked up occasionally to get sense of what was happening on the road. It was only when they stopped that she straightened up in her seat, Yonas voice sounded relieved as she spoke a language that she didn't recognize all to well, but was able to remember the words enough to look up later and perhaps give her insight into what nation she came from. Though Yona seemed to no longer make any effort to hide her accent now, perhaps it was these people that were making her try to keep a low profile she thought. But with a simple shrug Welsha said "Likely the Business center complex considering the amount of office buildings around the area, think those guys will send a team in or do you think they plan to wait and try to get all the exits covered?"

Welsha wondered if they had a little time limit with this before they had people start chasing them, she could easily escape this mess with her potential by causing a large distraction but she wasn't fond of the idea of revealing her potential unless Yona also opted to reveal hers. Regardless of her feelings about Yona she knew she was keeping secrets and they had only just met today, and while Welsha herself may act a certain way she herself was much too paranoid to to give information on herself without receiving any in return.
 
TEDDIE TUCKER
SCENE:
Friends Who Slay Together Stay Together
LOCATION:
The Tucker's House, North District Outskirts
TIME:
Post Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Celeste, Teddie
FRIENDS WHO SLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER

“There is!?” Eliza skipped over, peering inside. “Thank God for that. Y’know I’ve been telling Teddie for months, ‘we need more freezers, Teddie’, ‘we don’t have enough freezers’, and he still hasn’t gotten one. Y’know the neighbours down the street have-”

A loud splat interrupted her rambling as Teddie dropped the corpse onto the kitchen floor, uttering a single word, “Cleaver.”

“Cleaver? Cleaver!” Eliza jumped over the corpse, to a cupboard, where she brought out a rusty cleaver. A few hacks later, and the man was in more managaeable pieces, and into the freezer he went.

“Wasn’t this a good day. Your troubles are gone now?” Teddie spoke thoughtfully, but he looked at Celeste with the usual madness in his eyes.

Back in the last room, Carlisle babbled to herself as she made her way around, admiring the new cleanliness. Celeste’s efforts at tidying the place were unfortunately short-lived, as Carlisle already started pulling stuff off of a table low enough to be within reach. Some paper and crayons spilled onto the floor, and she began drawing a masterpiece while the adults dealt with the freezer situation. It didn’t resemble any human, or any thing at all, but it was a tribute to Celeste that the young girl was excited to share with her.
 
AKAMOZU JUN
SCENE:
Two Birds On A Wire [November 8th, 2020]
LOCATION:
Shady's Motel, South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Little Red ( miki miki )
Two Birds On A Wire

Like a hot knife through butter, the boy's blade tore effortlessly through the aged machete in Red's hands with unnaturally little resistance, only inches away from tasting her flesh.
The boy's eyes were still locked onto hers, gleaming brightly with unrestrained madness, and though her foot found purchase on his body, there was little force as she pushed him away, his own feet already having left the ground in preparation for the counter attack, propelling himself backwards to avoid the jarring force her boot would provide.
Nimbly, he landed right on his feet, some few yards away, knife still clutched tightly in his hand.
Though the girl's shrill, hateful voice filled the room, he seemed more preoccupied with studying the knife's polished surface, a faint look of approval on his lips, as he twisted and turned the blade in all manner of directions, inspecting it's clean, unsullied surface.
It wasn't until Red started to approach him once more, that the boy acknowledged her existence, the smile on his face cracking open into a disturbed, crooked grin, as he twirled the knife in his hand with playful, relaxed ease.
Before either person could make one more step, however, a sudden wall of thick, milky white foam burst forth between them, splitting the room in two.

"That's enough."

A singular, stern voice rang through the room, as Steve walked hesitantly through the door, the opaque, sticky, glue-like substance still clinging to the palm of his outstretched hand.
It wasn't the coolest potentiality in the gang, far from it, and the codename that came with it wasn't much better.
But man, did it come in handy for situations like this.
"That, Red..." Steve began to explain, disconnecting the string of foam with a snap of his wrist.
Already, it was beginning to deflate, sinking into the carpet as pooling, beige puddle.
Hopefully, they would both be cooperative enough to help clean this mess up, before Remedy found out, and had each of their collective hides.

"...Is why no one wants to sponsor him; he did that with each and every one."
Snapping his head in the recruits direction, Steve wearily says, "Boy, didn't we tell you to at least hold off on usin' your potentiality on other folk in the gang? Ricky said he was gonna kill you after they're done reattachin' 'is hand!"
"Hmmm~." the new recruit pouted in reply, like a child that had just been told he couldn't have dessert before dinner.
"...But it's not real if I don't use my potentiality! How am I supposed to do my test, if I can't get real results!"
"We're the ones that do the testin' 'ere, not you! And tryin' t'kill somebody ain't a test!" the older veteran snapped.
"What in God's name are you supposed t'be testin' anyway!? How many folks y'can piss off 'ere 'fore y' get killed!?"
"I'm testing our compatibility, duh~!" the boy snarkily answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world
Steve gawped in disbelief.
Already, he could feel the blood vessels in his temples throbbing.
He didn't want to hear the answer to this, but at the same time was morbidly curious.
"Uhh... c-compatibility?"

The boy responds with a smile, and an enthusiastic nod of his head.
"Yeah, y'know, compatibility~? Our vibe, wavelengths, all that~? I figured, since you guys like to give tests to see if new candidates are a good fit for the gang, I'd give a little test to see if people in the gang are a good fit for me!"
"Let's take her, for example..."
he begins, pointing his kitchen knife carelessly towards Red, like a teacher preparing to give a lecture.
"She had the reflexes to block my swing, and the insight to know where I was aiming, so I can tell she's got some fighting experience...."
Tapping the knife's point lightly against his chin, he lightly frowns, as he adds, "But, she blocked my swing...if I had fully committed, or if my potentiality was something that didn't need me to use this knife to do the job, she'd probably be dead right now..."
His eyes, unblinking, piercing, like a hawk studying prey, turned towards the girl, his head cocked to the side in slight curiosity, as he innocently asked,
"You don't fight a lot of other HPs, do you~? At least, not straight on, right~?"
"Aaand, aside from that..."
the boy shrugs his shoulders,
"Why would you carry around some dusty family relic around with you? If you don't want to risk it getting broken in a fight, just leave it at home~."
Lightly putting a mouth atop his lips, he lightly chuckles, "Kinda cringe, Tee-bee honest~"

"Buu~uut then again..."
the boy pauses, rubbing his chin in thought, looking once more at the unsullied knife in his hand, which then disappears out of sight, as he stuffs it haphazardly into his jacket pocket.
"You are the only one who I haven't cut on my first try, so I guess I can give you a passing grade...At least enough that I wanna know your name~."
"Oh, right!"
the boy exclaims in realization, before abruptly bowing his head towards the diminutive veteran, with well-versed, prim and proper form.
"My name is Jun Akamozu! That's Jun as in 'Pure', Aka as in 'Red', and Mozu, as in 'Bird'!"
"It's nice to meet you~! Please, treat me well!" He respectfully bade, revealing a saccharine, ear-to-ear grin as he raised his head back up to face her.
There wasn't so much as a trace of the violent, malevolent monster from earlier, only a young boy, excited to see what the day could bring, what sights the young girl before him had to show.
It was as if none of what had transpired mere moments ago had never happened in the first place, a figment of their collective imagination.
 
Hiachi Ito
SCENE:
Taking A Break
LOCATION:
West District | Camila’s Apartment
DATE:
June 28, 2022
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiachi, Camila
Taking A Break

This time she stared at her. She really stared at her. Swirling, drilling irises and all. Her gaze darted to the side and back to her, submerged in disbelief.

She seemed so damn honest, so vulnerable, that Hiachi blurted it out:

“Of course I resent you. What the fuck?”

Much like her boss, Hiachi was equally unable to lighten the blow of her tone. Though, this time, it wasn’t for lack of trying. Camila was still her boss, through and through. She could manage niceties and silent submission well enough now. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

So what went wrong? Hiachi never did well with curve balls.

In her mind’s eye, she still saw Camila as the sharp-witted devil she was introduced to her as—curling tail and all. The first face she saw when she was awoken and rebirthed as a Tiger.

Hiachi squinted her eyes to the point of nearly shutting them. An expression of how little of this scenario she wanted to absorb. Perhaps it was childish to double down with silence, but the alternative wasn’t pretty either. She should say she didn’t mean it, but how could she? That wasn’t true at all.

Given the chance to reflect on it, she really resented Camila. About as much as she resented herself. Her stance on it was never balanced: it was either all the Tigers’ fault, for catching her gambling scheme and wringing her up like a taxidermied animal, or all her fault for getting lost in the spiral and not quitting while she was ahead. But now, as she thought of her self-satisfied grin (a row of teeth, sparkling white, reflecting that fluorescent light along with the dying shine in her eyes), it was…

Hiachi shoved the last spoonful of stew in her mouth. She made her bed, she dug her grave, and now she had to lie in both.


 
Robin Krantz
SCENE:
DAND,NBV,BBESCA11PM [July 10th, 2022]
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin, Takakazu, Hiachi
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
"I'm simply a security contractor." responded Robin, smiling. However, when she brought up the money, Tak's line of thought changed.

She knew the money would change his mind. Money changed quite a few minds, in the end. Robin smiled wider. "Don't worry. If the blood stains anything, I'll pay to have it cleaned or replaced. It's the least I could do, of course." she said, as she stepped over next to the moped. “We won't need to go to the world's end, thankfully. That would be quite a long ride... and I'd probably have to pay you a lot more for the trouble."

She swung her leg over the back of the moped, then gently sat down behind Tak. Afterwards, she reached up and took hold of her long red hair with both hands. A quick motion of the hands, twisting and tucking and pulling, and soon it was tied into a loose ponytail. Perfect for keeping it under control and not flapping in the wind behind the moped.

"Oh, you were out to pick someone up?" she said, a curious tone to her voice. Another Tiger, as well. Wonder who it is? "Anyone I know?"

She then gently grabbed onto his sides. "Ready when you are, by the way. I'll try not to rub all this off on you." she said, a faint chuckle tacked onto the end.



thebigfella thebigfella miki miki
 
Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman
SCENE:
Snuffed Out
TIME:
Pre-Arc 3 — January 16th, 2022
LOCATION:
South district, Great Oak Apartments
PARTICIPANTS:
Bolt, Vulken
SNUFFED OUT
As Vulken spoke to the phone, Boltius studied the building before them. Two hands on the wheel, chest nudging the horn—a few centimeters more and it’d go off—with an up-turned, skeptical glare through the windshield.

At the signal to unlock the doors, Boltius did just that and exited the vehicle. Feeling his pockets, he checked for his phone, wallet, and knife, and dropped the keys to the denali in with them before stepping around to the denali’s front to meet Vulken halfway.

“Pssht, fuckin’ please, dawg- My shit’s better than your lullaby-ass music.” Saying that, Boltius grinned and naturally corrected his footing with hardly a fumble at Vulken’s playful shove, choosing not to retaliate. Together, they advanced toward the building, stopping only briefly at the front where Vulken gave a few more details about their undertaking, but not before trying to ruffle Bolt’s hair—a blind attempt, which the younger one easily evaded with a casual sideward lean as he eyed his taller brother up and down with a look that asked: Are you done? And sooner than later, Boltius swat Vulken's hand away, and the two proceeded into the building with Vulken in the lead.

They stood before an elevator, Vulken still going on about the details of their work. Something about a guy named Maxim and taxes. “So the board figured they oughta heat shit up. Heh.”

“Ayyyy~!” Boltius wore a short-lived, beaming grin, meeting that of his brother’s more relaxed. “‘At’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Guy’s supposedly been drunk the past five times they’ve stopped by, so if push comes ta shove we'll just take the money ourselves and leave. S'not like he'll remember we were even there after an hour or two passes.”

“We’ll take the drinks, too,” added Bolt. And he was serious.

The elevator doors split open just then and the two brothers entered. The digital number on the control panel gradually rose from 1 to 5 before the elevator settled and the doors opened once more to allow them exit. Promptly, as they stepped out, Vulken directed Boltius’ attention toward room 509 and urged the younger one to knock.

“Uhh, okay?” Boltius wasn’t sure why it mattered who knocked, but the curiosity didn’t cause him to hesitate. He gave four firm raps against the door with his fist and stepped back. “If he doesn’t answer, can I bust in?”

The seconds ticked by. From within, they could hear the sound of someone stumbling around, earning a quirk of the brow upon Bolt’s countenance. “That’s if he can make it to the fuckin’ door, damn.”

Some more ruckus within and Boltius raised his voice to be heard, “Yo, Grimshaw!-” Pause. Boltius glanced at Vulken, perplexed, “Wait, the fuck’s his name again!? Grimshaw?”

Loud again, his confusion still stark, he repeated the name, “Grimshaw!” Back at Vulken, “Grimshaw? I don’t think it’s Grimshaw.”

(Interacting w/ Vulken)
(Mentioned no one)
Nobody Special Nobody Special
 
Last edited:
Elise Cutter
SCENE:
Telephone Line
TIME:
July 20th, 2022
LOCATION:
North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Dagger
Telephone Line
The words that left Passeri’s lips hung above them. They were not words that she had ever expected to hear from anyone after all that she had done, all that she had failed to do, all that she had succeeded in doing, all the time spent running, hiding. So earnestly said, so honestly delivered, so genuinely given to her, the feeling the very words bore in her heart was not foreign, but she had long given up hope of ever feeling it ever again. Someone who wanted her to come back alive, someone who cared for her desolate life, cursed to have the shadow of death ever lingering over her shoulders, someone who saw her as more than just a tool for a job, someone who loved that life. She had long submitted herself to her own fate: a life of solitude, a life in the shadows, a death in the dark, a body to be left unnamed and forgotten. And now, to know for certain that the Princess saw more than just that in her, the pain that struck her heart was more than any scar she had received across the years.

She couldn’t stomach it. She couldn’t bear it. Elise Cutter did not deserve a life. Elise Cutter did not deserve love. Elise Cutter did not deserve someone who saw her as herself. She knew this, she acknowledged this, so why, oh gods, why did she cherish this very moment so dearly? Why did she continue to cling on to this second, to Passeri Park’s hand, to the bright eyes that gazed back at her one through a veil of tears? Why did she want this, why did she continue to hold hope for a life where she wasn’t suffering?

This was wrong. The Princess was wrong for loving her. She was wrong for wanting this. She should have never found any comfort in her hands, she should have never found some level of normalcy with anyone, she should have stayed alone in the dark, she should have kept wishing for a death that would end this miserable life. With all that she had experienced, with all that the Princess had given her, today and the days before, she would have to continue living. For the Princess, at the very least. The prospect of having to live frightened her.

Her breath caught in her throat, as she struggled to find the words to reply. It had been years since she had uttered the words she wanted to say right now at this moment. Even when she had said them, years ago, they were non-committal, a simple reply, a simple nothing, purely because she thought it was polite to return the gesture.

Standing here now, at this precipice, what should she do? What can she do? As she looked on at the Princess’s face, into her eyes, she found no words to reply to her. To be wanted, to be loved, to be held, these were all things she wanted, but never deserved. That was what she told herself from that day, up to this one, and in the sun’s light, all of those words she told herself dissolved, if only for a moment.

She released her hand from the Princess, and wrapped her arms around her. She couldn’t say the words. Not yet. She couldn’t muster up the courage for this one act, not like this. The words weren’t enough to express how happy she was to live, how she was given a new reason to stay. She held on, clung on to that very reason here and now. Her breath staggered in refusal to let the tears come.

“Thank you, ‘Seri.” She managed as much. She couldn’t say anything else. Any further exertion from her would break the dam.

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
LOCATION:
West District
DATE:
July 10th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Robin ( Infab Infab ) Hiachi ( miki miki )
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM

“How the hell would I know?” Tak responded crudely and curtly to Robin’s question, giving her a glance over his shoulder as he adjusted himself a bit in his seat. “If you know a girl with eyes like a fish who sometimes stares like a fast food worker at the 12th hour of their shift, then you know who I’m talkin’ about, And if you don’t…” he trailed off, turning back to the front of the road as his natural expression of disinterest returned, “Guess you’ll meet her. Who knows, maybe you guys can be best friends,” he added sarcastically.

Tak’s body involuntarily twitched at Robin’s hands being put on him; even if he should have expected it, something about it caused pinpricks to go down his spine. It was kinda cold; then again, it was in the middle of the night, not exactly the warmest time. He pushed the thought aside, instead giving a snide comment, “I ain’t tryna to get weird looks when I go to the laundromat to get this thing cleaned, damnit. This is the only jacket I got, y’know? If the old lady running the place asks I don't know what I'll tell her.” he complained, pulling the handles of his scooter and peeling off down the road, not hesitating to kick it into high gear with his new passenger.

“Man, I should have grabbed a hose and washed you off like a muddy puppy. How are you okay being covered in blood like that?” Tak spoke casually, though it was clear there was a bit of discomfort as he was driving around someone so caked with blood. A sniff of the air only gave him the pungent stench of copper, even with the wind against his face, “I wish I could meet the guy who towed your car and give him a piece of my mind; now it’s my problem…” he continued to bellyache as if he hadn’t chosen to turn back himself instead of going back on his face.

“Where are we goin’ anyway? Do you live in a suite or something? A penthouse? You got fuckin' people feeding you grapes, huh?” Tak questioned; he wouldn’t be surprised if the woman was rich, considering how easily she tossed around a grand like that; a tiny bit of him--no, a significant bit of him felt a bit of selfish ire as he thought about it, dropping her off at an abode that probably cost more than any money he’s ever had joining the Tigers, hating even without confirmation.

His self-imposed annoyance led him to grip tighter on the handles of his scooter as he continued to drive through the silent night, where his grumbling could be heard above all else.

“Shit…I should have asked for 1 grand per mile.”





THE RED HOOD
CS Link
SCENE:
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM
TIME:
July 10th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Driving At Night is Dangerous, Not Because of Visibility, But Because Everything Starts Closing Around 11 PM

Footsteps came up cement steps, echoing through the hallway, which had chipping wallpaper, torn paint, and rusted railings. There were no lights, pure darkness, and only the shimmer of the moonlight through the windows.

With a red hood and a pair of piercing eyes, they glowed in the darkness.

The cooing of doves, hovering in families, perched upon foundations and broken light fixtures, feathers fell down, pure white symbols of love.

Burst hearts, torn, blood gushes, the smell of death.

The door creaks open, and the stench becomes unbearable. Yet, he does not cover his nose or tear his eyes away. He faces the horror.

Murder, mutilation. Limbs were strewn across the ground like discarded rubbish, corpses left gutted, stuck up as a display. Nails torn from clawing in an attempt of freedom, gums bleeding from biting down, throats torn to prevent any more screams.

Horrific, terror. This was no nightmare. A cold breath condensed before the red hood as it stood in the doorway.

He slowly raised a hand, and from within the darkness arose a white dove, its plumage lightly fluttering as it dropped onto his finger. With a tilt of its head, it peered at its owner.

“Track them,” was his order. And it took off, flying through an open window out into the night sky, leaving a few feathers at his feet.

His hand reached into his pocket, and he pulled out a phone. He planted it against the side of his head as the dial began to ring.

And then someone picked up.

 
Passeri Park
SCENE:
The Idol Fanclub Trials
TIME:
Pre-Arc 2
LOCATION:
Highreach, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Passeri, Takakazu
The Idol Fanclub Trials
She was having trouble processing this. Of course, this was something that she should have expecting from the start. Passeri knew well how some of her fans were, and given the violation of his body that the one in the quiz had made in her image, it really should've come as no surprise to her that he was the sort that was probably browsing through her fan-cams to try and find an upskirt, but...

She'd just been having fun five minutes ago, dammit.

"No." Passeri answered Tak's question with as much delicacy as it'd been asked with. She didn't even really want to deign it with that much, but she felt like she was going to lose some amount of her dignity if she allowed that sort of perception of her to exist. She might have presented herself as an airhead to the masses, but... Lace on-stage? That was too much. Shorts beneath any skirt, that was one of the golden rules of the business, assuming that said business hadn't yet dipped into the pits of gravure yet.

"Actually, tell me- Are they normally this stupid?" Passeri started to massage her temple as she flicked back through her memories of the day. They'd been enthusiastic the whole day, sure, but she'd been hoping that it was going to end with that. She was still smiling, of course, at this point in her life her lips were practically glued into the form of a curve, but a fat, beating vein had started to poke its way out of her head.

"Is this what they do? Sit around and talk about what kind of underwear I'm wearing? Are you guys gonna try and guess at what kind of bra I'm wearing next?" She was actually starting to get invested in seeing these people lose. "Don't answer that, by the way, I don't actually want to know."

She huffed, got up from her seat, and then spent a moment staring at the still-unconscious Camelo. What was she even doing here? That was the only thing that came into her mind in that moment. Why was she spending her free afternoon with a bunch of perverts when she could've been, for example, bashing her head against a wall instead?

Now that she was thinking about it, she really had no idea, but now that she was thinking about it, she decided that she was going to get something out of it, if nothing else.

"Scruffy. Hey, listen- I'll make you a deal. Forget about owing me. Show these guys up. They've been messing with you, yeah? Mess with them back. If you wanna really carve out a place for yourself in their group, you're gonna have to show them that you're on their level, you know? Here's the deal: Move them to tears, and I'll pay you. You can walk out of her with your pockets and stomach stuffed."

She, somewhat reluctantly, offered her hand to the scruffy-haired young man.

"Sound good?"

 
Shishido Takakazu
CS Link
SCENE:
Everyone's A Critic
LOCATION:
Feralia Art Gallery, Central District
DATE:
June 30th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila ( Roda the Red Roda the Red ), Takakazu
Everyone's A Critic

“Maybe there was a “Balding, Suits and Sunglasses,” costume party!?” Tak shouted in response to Camila’s question with a quick peek over his shoulder, an unwelcome sight bringing him back to look at his feet as he scrunched his jaw tight, putting even more into running as his neck strained, “If you got somethin’ in mind hurry up and do it already!” he shouted through his strained teeth, feeling the mass of guards nipping on his heels.

Tak barely caught a glimpse of Camila’s tail moving like a whip, his eyes too delayed to follow it before the painting behind them toppled over; Tak’s pace slowed down slightly to watch the carnage, his eyes wide open in surprise, “Damn, you can do all that with that thing?! Here I thought it was just a can opener!” Tak gave a half-insult half compliment as he gave Camila a sharp pat on the back like they were bros rather than boss and employee before focusing back on their escape.

He watched Camila climb around like a chimpanzee, unsure what she was doing. A look of confusion quickly showed on his expression, “Oi, is this really the time for rock climbing?” he shouted towards her as he stepped onto the painting standing on top of the numerous guards as they groaned in pain from discomfort all the extra weight, “Hey, this is kinda like a trampoline,” Tak commented, turning his focus down to his feet as he jumped up and down on the poor guards as if he got some type of twisted joy from their suffering.

His hidden smirk revealed as he looked back up to Camila, letting it fade as he let her words run through his head, left blinking in confusion. “Eh? East wing? Where the hell’s that supposed to be?” he questioned before finally leaping up to grasp onto the window, swinging himself up and out smoothly, his feet skidding against the tiles as he quickly caught back up with Camila, a pace that promptly slowed down at an enraged shout before him.

“Oh, it’s that guy,” Tak could immediately tell from his voice. He casually addressed him as he turned around, running a hand through his hair as if it were a minor inconvenience more than anything else. He quickly waved dismissively towards Camila, “Don’t worry; this will only take a couple seconds.”

The air fluttered around Tak’s naked form, leaving the air covering his crotch as he walked to meet Boris’ sprint. His hands clapped together, repeatedly dusting off with resounding claps that flashed like lightning, a crack of his neck loud like snapping bones, before letting out a breath that allowed his breath to flow freely.

Boris rammed across the roof, tiles cracking and flinging underneath his feet, gums showing with bloodshot eyes, snorting like a bull as his baton swung around wildly, uncontrolled. In contrast, Tak only stood there, placated with a bored look. The distance between them closed, their clash only milliseconds away.

And then Tak’s fists clenched, his back bent backward like a spring, and then flung forward like a hammer, moving it a blur of speed lines and black silhouettes until his forehead made an impact against the top of Boris’ head. A resounding shockwave played three times over from different perspectives; both bodies floated off the ground in slow motion as loose tiles floated in the air behind them.

Boris’ teeth slammed into each other, his lower jaw swallowing his upper lip as his body moved downward against the force until all the momentum crashed. A plume of dust sprouted high into the air as colored roof tiles flung through the air. Slowly, the dust from the wreckage cleared, revealing numerous holes in the ceilings and the floor paving the way all the way to the ground floor; loose bits of wood and other foundation fell through the holes, as unfortunate spectators who almost got lost in the crossfire nearly fell into the holes, hugging the wall to present themselves from falling down, and looking up and down to try and piece it together.

Boris lay in a crater, and the ground rippled and tore around him like a meteor. He lay in the middle of the gallery, covered in dust and rubble as his eyes rolled back into his skull, a dumb smile and blood bleeding out from his nose, left unconscious as the art pundits looked on in terror and confusion.

“Damn…” Tak sighed, stepping away from the damage as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Some guys need to learn when to quit,” he complained before returning to Camila.

With a giant throbbing bump on his forehead emitting steam like a boiling point of water, Tak’s face clearly scrunched as he held back tears.

“Let’s get outta here already.”


 
Deirest
SCENE:
All That Is Mortal
TIME:
July 13th, 2022
LOCATION:
Lower Central District Ruins
PARTICIPANTS:
Stitches, Deirest
All That Is Mortal
The Dark.

Again, The Dark.

Harsh and cold. Jagged and hard. The infernal death-womb in which her consciousness had been birthed. She had been here before, but all was not the same. Nothingness had been the name of her mother, an isolation of the self and the senses, blackness and silence and long, gaping oblivion.

But she wasn't alone. Not this time.

"C-caw... Caw..."

The limp bleating of a crow. The sound of her footsteps trudging through the dark. She saw nothing, but her ears, her fingers, her mind, they were all open. Even of the grave-ice of the piles of collapsed concrete tried to sap the life from her flesh, she trudged on.

"Caw..."

"Shhh..." Deirest cooed, squeezing down tighter on the aberrant bird in her grasp. Hidden the dark, pock-marks of its overgrown beak marred her flesh, shows of now-depleted resilience, smothered by the superiority of her will.

"Quiet, quiet... I can't hear unless you're quiet." And she would hear it. The low, rumbling heartbeat of the earth. All was still in the Black. Only herself and herself alone, and this was not that. The earth moved. It breathed death, but breathed still. Firm and slow, sometimes, and hasty and shaky others. She could hear it now. The crumble of rumble beyond her sight. The smell of stirring air. The encroachment of light upon her domain.

The first crack came slowly. A split of light in the wall of concrete, and then the rest followed.

A shade of black stood in the light. A featureless cowl, but not quite. No face. No name. Only a mangled stinger.

"Yoouu..." Deirest sat within the dark. For once, patiently.

"M-my lady!" The reply came quickly, equal parts relieved and not. "We've been searching... After you were separated from the Sister, we..."

"Hush hush, Coward..." She wasn't interested. Not in the cloak's prattle, nor what the Sister had made of herself after their separation. "You're a dog, yes? Play catch." She tossed the crow, battered and exhausted beyond the capability of flight, towards the black cloak. "And now deliver. Home. That's mine. Keep it safe, mmm?"

"It and you both, my lady... Now, if we could..."

"No, no. Only you."

"But Sister Areith..."

"Sister, Sister... The Sister can come if she wants... But I stay. For now, mmm? Listen, Coward-" Slowly, she stepped out of the dark. A malicious saunter across cold concrete, revealing the extent of her wounds to the light. Her flesh was still tattered from her battle with the quilled chimeric, and in her other hand, one of its discarded blades gleamed viciously.

"I smell something. It stinks. Tell her- Mmm- I'm busy, yes?"

"I-"

"Yes." She clapped the trembling man on the shoulder, and that was just about all the convincing she needed to do. She was alone again. The black cloak vanished into the night.

"Now, now..." Her feet took her from one darkness to another. From the glum mire of her cave, to the cool press of night. She enjoyed this, she realized. The sight of it. The stillness of the world, devoid of all the infinite fetters that it was burdened with.

It was good. It was pure.

She took a deep breath, and felt the sharp edge of her blade in her hands. It was only her and hers. This was the way it was supposed to be. The world, her and her possessions alone. If Deirest knew comfort, then this was it. This was her freedom, the sole lullaby which brought quiet to the unending, throbbing scream in the back of her skull.

She took a deep breath.

She took a deep breath.

She took a deep breath.
She took a deep breath.
She took a deep breath.

She-

"Nnn..." -gnashed her teeth. A voice, a prattle in her ear. A bird in a cage, screeching. It took it from her. Again. She was never allowed it. This. Her world in the order it should have been. Denied again, again, again. Denied the light.

"You... Youuuuu you you-" She regarded the hooded figure for a moment, only a moment, to offer it a gift that none had been offered before. "Bite out your tongue. Spit it here."

Mercy.

"Leave"

 
MICAH
CS Link
SCENE:
Young Blood
TIME:
Post Outbreak || July 21, 2022
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hitoshi, Charlie, Musai, Christina
Young Blood
As Charlie lept, victory seemed all but assured as he had precisely calculated the angle for proper interception as the kid continuing to speedrun his way through the street past befuddled onlookers. As he closed the distance in his arc, he could see the little boy glance upwards with a surprised look taking root. At this speed, it would be very difficult to come to a stop and in turn meant that it was likely that the boy would be caught at last. However, what Charlie didn't take into account is that for someone like Micah - slowing down was never an option.

Stuffing a hand to his face again, he shoved down a few high-sugar content candies into his mouth and practically ate them whole as they were much like a bird swallows a fish. And just as quickly, the boy burst forth before quickly ducking to slide on the ground! By just a few millimetres did Charlie's hands slipped past the boy, leaving him to tumble onto the ground behind him in a less than gracious manner. As Hitoshi had fallen behind due to his less than ideal physical health, this left only Musai left as he tried to keep pace with the boy. The phoenix could practically see the speedy brat sticking his tongue out at him in mockery, as the idea of a kid getting the best of their seniors was embarrassing.

Just a moment later, he sped around the corner into the alleyway; if he could dash his way to the next street over, Micah figured that he could lose his pursuers. There was a small shop he could get to nearby, and use the backdoor to then make it home free. He could taste the victory on his hands - the chocolates and nougats that he had consumed prior - as he rushed to the other side of the alley. Its light beckoned like a door, only for it to be dimmed by the most unfortunate turn of luck that one could imagine. Micah found himself bouncing off the leg of yet another phoenix, Christina, and tumbled back onto the ground. His momentum was no more as he clutched at his nose as both Musai and Charlie quickly dashed to finally get him, and were joined but a few moments after by Hitoshi.

The elder phoenix was sweating profusely and was panting like a dog as he sought to regain his breath; but Micah was the most audibly hurt from this whole debacle as he winced in pain and spoke: "Gahhh... my nose..." he spoke, audibly holding himself back from crying. His bag of candy was knocked away nearby, its contents spilling out onto the asphalt below that in turn led to a large pile of inedible candies.

"Hey! Good job Christina!"
Hitoshi shouted with a raspy tone, pretending to make it seem as though this had been the plan all along in a desperate bid to salvage their collective prides. "Thanks for the assist!"


Roda the Red Roda the Red Kameron Esters- Kameron Esters- Infab Infab
 

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