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SYLVIE SLEZÁK
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Heist]
LOCATION:
West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Jennifer, Maria, Ryutaro, Samira, Sylvie
THE HEIST

Sylvie nodded at Camila as she confirmed she was alright, relieved to hear it, though he couldn’t help but wince hearing the subtle snap of Jennifer’s broken bone. He considered reaching out to assist her, but truth be told, he was a little afraid of the headstrong gunwoman, and wasn’t sure if he’d gained her trust enough for that. Apart from that and the tremors that continued to batter the van, it seemed like the worst was behind them now.

“S-so, did we do it-”
“LOOK OUT-”

Sylvie was drowned out by the voice in his ear, and the explosion that followed. He lost his grip on the door, taking the fall with Camila held against him as the crew got tossed around in the van. As the vehicle smoked from the attack, Sylvie didn’t have to be told to move, his fight-or-flight instincts kicking back in as he scrambled to his feet. He didn’t have time to nurse the bruises that would surely form on his side from the impact, picking Camila up onto her feet to help with her escape.

He was ready to follow the Tiger out when another explosion was heard, and he spied the grenade launcher wielding Twin. Sylvie stopped moving, frozen with fear before coming to his senses. As he did that, someone came to mind, and he looked over to the wounded Jennifer that was screaming in pain only moments before.

“Let me-” Sylvie quickly fell silent, careful to preserve his air while he was surrounded by smoke. He bent down to Jennifer, lifting her body so he could support her with her injury, and the weaponry she had taken. It wasn’t difficult, considering his strength as an HP, and soon they were out of the van, facing the Twins with the other Tigers.

“Fuck.”

He whispered this. He hadn’t witnessed the Queen get blown up, but his absence was notable so he could make a guess about what may lie in the fiery remnants, that was one down. Two down, as Jennifer had a broken bone. Three down, as Sylvie himself now had his hands full with Jennifer. He considered placing her on the ground but then Vile made his target clear, instead keeping hold of her. He couldn’t leave her vulnerable to attack, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if the worst happened.

“Any contacts that can get us out of this mess?” Sylvie hissed in Jennifer’s ear, lamenting the fact that he himself didn’t have anyone in mind to call. His closest colleagues were all here, or busy with other matters as far as he knew, but he considered that the more seasoned may know of someone nearby, especially now that they were on home turf. While they faced the Twins, there was little time for phone calls, so Sylvie made a decision.

“Cover us.”

Putting his faith in the other 3, he turned and ran with Jennifer, looking for anywhere he could get sufficient cover. Any time he could buy to assess the situation would be helpful. Sylvie knew he wasn’t a fighter, but it didn’t mean he was unwilling to help, even if his approach may have come off as cowardly.

 
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Matsuda Russo
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 4 [Puzzling Directions]
LOCATION:
West District, Library
PARTICIPANTS:
Kiwi, Matsuda, Minato
PUZZLING DIRECTIONS
Matsuda was initially shocked at being interrupted by the clones, but then a smile came over his face. He muffled his laugh with the back of his hand rolling his eyes. Now, he wasn't sure if the Minatos all had different personalities- but one of them seemed smarter than the rest, including Matsuda. He surely wouldn't have been able to figure that out. He hadn't even heard of the puzzle type ISIS.

He scratched his head at the impending silence. Matsuda had to suck his lips into his mouth to quell the giggles rising in his chest. He never did well with awkward silences, he always found himself laughing when presented with one.

The duo eyed boy jumped at the voice from the Shepard's backpack, nearly forgetting someone was keeping an eye on them... somehow. He squinted at the dog suspiciously. Was it a robot? Leaning forward, he scoffed a laugh at the small note, a furrow of disbelief in his brows. Matsuda jolted at the rumbling beneath his feet. What was going on now?! Was this- was this part of the puzzle?

Matsuda gasped in a panic. Shit! This was real wasn't it?! He rushed forward, heaving the German Shepard up into his arms, cuddling the furry creature to his chest. He muttered in his best soothing voice, trying to ignore the panic in his chest as he searched for the fastest way outside. "Shh shh it's ok boy, it's gonna be alright ok? Such'a good doggy.. shh." The dog was admittedly a little heavy in his arms, but that wasn't really his biggest concern at the moment.


 
GUARDIAN
SCENE:
Securing the Future
LOCATION:
East District, Tech Expo
PARTICIPANTS:
Jesper, Amari, Sophie, Kasumi, "Jane"
Securing the Future
Amari made shreds of the drones, none of them having a chance to retaliate against the vulpine maid. Not even the speaker could give out one more snappy line as he watched everything unfold. Even if they got through Amari, Sophie's quick thinking had her at the ready to defend at her own pain.

Guardian, meanwhile... cowered underneath his own arms.

When he dared open an eye, everything was taken care of. He sheepishly straightened himself, clearing his throat. "Thank you," he said with half-opened lips. And to Sophie's offer, he gladly relinquished the unconscious perp to her care.

It was then Kasumi's messaged reached him and everyone else. For the drones to turn against their programming... it didn't take a genius to figure out the correlation. Not only did she reinstate Guardian to his control, she was going after whoever else made this happen. "Ariadne must've passed off the USB... Thank God Kasumi was here." Jesper sighed relief... only to remember the last part of her message.

... Jane, who just dealt with all the security in the private room. Please hurry back.

But Roy and three others were in there! How did—? No, there was no time! Guardian looked to his servants, who all received the same message. "We need to go back, now! If Jane gets to her, then—!"

Guardian coughed, his eyes widening. Just as he formed, pixels floated away from his body—carrying pieces of his body with them in seconds. As the dissipating pixels reached his face, a deafening silence came after. Guardian was gone.

angel doe angel doe azenva azenva FabulousTrash FabulousTrash
 
BAPTISTE LEROUX (NPC)
SCENE:
Securing the Future
LOCATION:
East District, Tech Expo
PARTICIPANTS:
Jesper, Amari, Sophie, Kasumi, "Jane"
Securing the Future
The beginning was a fluke, but now Baptiste was feeling it: the changing tides, before the egotistical gang that was the Dragons realize that their greatest weapon is being used against them. How he longed to see their ivory pedestals fall—how he longed to be part of the cause for it. Even as Jesper and his maids fought off the four drones, there were enough in this building to raze the—

"What?" He turned to the familiar voice, coming from the robot dog he'd seen around. It should've been under his control...

Evidently not. It shot him.

Baptiste shouted as he toppled against a counter, wincing for his now stinging eye. The world blurred and spun; taking a step anywhere suddenly felt out of the question. Grunting, he put a hand out, and a metal plate flung from his chest. He aimed it flat towards Updog. The robot fell over, spinning through the air until it slammed against the plate, tightly magnetized together. Baptiste almost landed on his back from the force.

There was another thing. Though his gaze still blurred and ached, he saw all the drones of the expo hover over. Initially he believed them to be heading after the Dragons, but they stopped around him. He could make out the barrels of their guns turned to him.

"Merde!" Baptiste slung a second metal plate out. He aimed at one side of the drones, and they flew into the ceiling. The man rolled over the counter and into a booth as gunfire pelted his original spot. He kept Updog above like an umbrella.

Setting a plate aside, he found his phone.
We lost the drones
Get out now ma chérie


He certainly didn't want to stay any longer. Whoever turned the tables back at him had control over their whole plan; he knew when a mission had failed...

#EE468A
 
CORVO CORDESCO
SCENE:
Securing the Future
LOCATION:
East District, Tech Expo
PARTICIPANTS:
Jesper, Amari, Sophie, Kasumi, "Jane"
Securing the Future
Collab with FabulousTrash FabulousTrash

A head of red descended upon the room. Corvo slid the door, cutting through the silence. Inside, the two individuals remained. Isolated. Jesper himself sat oblivious at the first seat from the entrance.

She kicked the boy square in the stomach. The swivel chair rolled back against the table; Jesper’s eyes shot open. He coughed out a spit of saliva, followed by a coarse inhale of air.

Offering a polite wave and a smile, she greeted, “Ciao.”

Kasumi was quick to disconnect from Updog in time after hopefully dealing with the other man. She sat up straight, her feet pushing her back into the chair as if Kasumi was trying to move further away. She looked at Jesper, who was gasping for air, before looking back at Corvo.

“What do you want?”

Jesper froze in place, locking eyes with the woman he knew only as Jane. “Carrion…” he muttered. He tried pushing himself away with his toes, only moving inches. “Y-You’re the Phoenix she mentioned. W-What about the peace meeting—?”

Corvo swooned in, clasping her hand around the boy’s neck. “I didn’t take an Albrecht to be so gullible...” She turned to Kasumi. “You have to be the one with the tech Potential, hm? What I want is a drone. A drone connected to all of Guardian’s other machines, recording us as Jesper Albrecht confesses to his family’s crimes.” From her hand, she pulled a knife. Jesper screamed into her hand, kicking and squirming as the cold metal met his throat. “It’s that, or Albrecht Industries loses their heir.”

Kasumi’s breathing was tense and low. It took much of her self-control not to try something, especially when Corvo drew the knife to Jesper’s neck. Her eyes looked towards his, doing her best to reassure him. But all Kasumi could do was oblige for now.

“I can get one… assuming your friend hasn’t destroyed them all…”

She slowly raised her phone, glancing down. Instead of manually controlling the drone, she simply commanded one to move to the room and standby. Once the command was given, Kasumi looked back to Corvo

“The drone is its way… What exactly do you mean by family crimes?”

Keeping her pose, Corvo walked to a seat at the side of the table, holding Jesper like a puppeteer to a marionette. “I looked at your suspect list. Are you aware of the connections each of them had? They were all here because of what Albrecht Industries facilitated. Mass deforestation, machines for PMCs complicit in war crimes, slave labor from foreign businesses. You Dragons pride yourselves on moral high ground, yet you’re all the same underneath. If you want to start standing for what you say, I might as well lend a helping hand and pluck one weed out of the garden. And as long as you do what I say, you can see that it’s possible without death.”

Corvo shook her head. “I’m sure Jesper’s bodyguards are storming their way here right now. Why don’t you be a darling and tell them of the deal?”

Kasumi gulped, saying nothing about Corvo’s accusations. Glancing down to her phone once more, she sent out another message to the other Albrecht Industries employees, warning them to not interfere. At the same time, she sent another set of messages to Amari and Sophia only, letting them know of their current location.

Corvo removed her hand from Jesper’s mouth. By now, he was aware of his position and remained deathly quiet. “Now, I have one thing to ask; off the books.” Her stone-cold demeanor faltered a moment. “2016, a year before Guardian launched officially, you ran year-long undisclosed field tests around Central. Your drones scanned the streets and recorded all kinds of things: daily lives, crime, robberies… murder. Where can I find those recordings?”

It took a second for Jesper to realize she was letting him speak. He dug his brain out—drone recordings from way back when… that would have to be “T-The records office… Near our warehouse…” He shut his lips once more.

“Good boy,” she remarked. “Looks like you value your life after all.”
 
YONG-YUT SOMSRI
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Dragon and the Phoenix]
LOCATION:
Upper Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Kanna, Meirin, Shen
Helva, Kaede, Maho, Rin, Vulken
The Dragon and the Phoenix
Whatever was happening behind her, Yong-Yut didn’t pay it any mind. It didn’t need their attention. The body did.

The wrapped body of Kaede flipped around in the air until she settled in Yong-Yut’s arms. The cloth sunk into her skin. The pressure, the feeling hurt. Ouch.

Luckily, she was quickly distracted from the feeling when the lights went out, and went back on— as if someone flicked the switch really fast, or as if she blinked. But there were no lightswitches, and she did not blink. No, instead it was Libla, who’d sped past them and stopped quite a bit away in front of them.

However, instead of the fear of someone that’d done something wrong coming across the face of the cloth wielder, it was more like relief. “Spirit!”

Yong-Yut continued forward to get closer, staying just out of the range of the darkness. However, as she neared Libla, the ground began to rumble. Yong-Yut planted their feet into the ground, looking at the ball of shadows. “Lyric and the Dragon King were acting out of their minds. We had to get her under control. Please understand,” she said, holding the body out. The rumbling got worse. Yong-Yut wasn’t going to be able to keep them safe. Libla could. “Take Momo, er, Lyric, until they switch back. Keep them high off the ground. …Don’t drop Kaede.”

Libla listened to Yong, and though she was still a bit confused, her guard was lowered somewhat. Her being on her shadow board, she was having an easier time being able to focus more so on listening than keeping herself steady. She didn’t know if she should comply or if this was some sorta trick, closing her eyes in thought. She eventually said, “I don’t know about this, but fine, I'll choose to trust you. But, if it turns out you're using me or you're betraying us for the Dragons, I'll never forgive you or Momo for it!” Reluctantly, she did move towards YY in order to take Momo off their hands, but it was pretty clear that she wasn’t entirely happy with it, especially with the strange things happening. She did go on to add, “You still owe me an explanation, and why you are with the Dragons, especially when they are the ones that hurt our fellow Phoenixes.”

“I’ll tell you about it when we regroup. Lyric’s one of my closest friends, Spirit. Just keep them safe. You stay safe, too.” Yong-Yut nodded at the void.

But the ground continued to shake beneath her feet.

Was Central going down?

Being in a place that didn’t have many earthquakes besides ones caused by potentials, it was a new experience for Yong-Yut. What was she supposed to do? Yong-Yut couldn’t get out of Central at this rate. They couldn’t fly, either.

They looked behind them, towards the people that neared them. Behind those people, she saw Kenny.

Kaede and Lyric were safe. Would he be?



She turned around and ran back, against the trembling earth.


 
Disclaimer: no one is required to read the entirety of this post, as it exceeds 1.5k words and effects MOSTLY the two characters involved. Please, at the very least, read from the marker ("Now...") placed within the post!
Screenshot_192.jpg889df4841daece1af27a1929623a4d0a.jpg
COLLAB: BOLTIUS & GIDEON
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
Upper Central, CDPD; Parking Lot
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Tatsuya, Ashley, Inigo, Jericho, Bandy, Callista, Eric, Gideon
TACTICAL MAYHEM
— — — Earlier… — — —​

He arrived on the first floor via stairwell and stepped out into the halls where the marks of battle scarred the walls and floor, but he kept on, passing bodies and identifying them as he went. None Phoenix.

So far, so good…

Rounding the corner up ahead, Gideon darted into view and Bolt’s eyes were lit with recognition. But for the coffee-stealing ‘supervillain,’ he had been too focused on two things. One was getting away. The other was not tripping over the power cord of the coffee machine that he was carrying in his arms. The cord, for some annoying reason, trailed on the ground in a way that was easy to tangle into.

Sticking up a hand, “Yo!! Vee! Uh…?” Boltius couldn’t recall Gideon’s alias, so he opted, instead, for his name: “Yo, Gordon!” and picked up speed to meet him halfway. “We gotta blow this strip-club, dawg. Shit’s ‘boutta come crashin’ down if we got anything to say about it. Riot’s hulkin’ out.”

Bolt’s sudden appearance was enough to literally trip Gideon up and, with a yelp, he tumbled to the ground, his leg wrapped around the power cord.

The coffee carafe shattered on the tile, and the flimsy plastic of the machine cracked open to spill gunpowder everywhere. Boltius lifted a leg and grimaced at the fumble, biting his knuckle.

“By Satan’s name,” Gideon said icily, “It would’ve cost you nothing to not jumpscare me. Also who the fuck is Gordon?”

Lowering his leg slowly, Boltius blinked rather innocently at the prone Gideon. A moment of pause as he processed the reality of ‘Gordon’ being the incorrect name. Then, bending forward, he held out a hand. “Uh- Sorry, bro, I didn’t-... ...I don’t actually know your name. Or, I mean, thought I did… but...” He waited for the other to accept the gesture.

“How am I not surprised that the Ace doesn’t know the name of the barista that serves him coffee in the morning?” Gideon said sarcastically, earning an apologetic smile from the other. He accepted Boltius’ hand to allow for the latter to pull him up, leaving the destroyed coffee machine in tatters on the ground, “Piping hot and black with a bamboo straw. Order up for Bolt.”

“Aha, yeah, that’s the usual.”

Gideon was joking around with Bolt, but the fact that Gideon’s smile muscles, atrophied with disuse, didn’t move, meant that the joke was incredibly dry. Almost instinctively, Gideon began to introduce himself with his villain speech before realizing that 1) he was talking to the Ace and 2) perhaps making the Ace think he was weird was a bad idea.

“My name’s Gideon, and don’t you forget it,” Gideon said, “And my codename is Ev– ev— evi–”

Gideon gave up. Evielle was such a stupid codename.

“Anyway, you were talking about blowing up this ‘strip club?’” Gideon asked.

Boltius responded with laughter. “Pfft-TAHAHA! Fuck was 'at again?” A playful mockery. He shoved Gideon affectionately, albeit harshly, on the shoulder, “Ev- ev-? What’s it- from like a video-game er somethin’?” Patting the same shoulder now, he added, “We’ll find ya somethin’ easier to say. For now, yeah, dawg. This bitch is boutta crumble~”

Boltius pushed Gideon to usher him along, but made sure not to let him fall. “So, let’s kick it. C’mon~” Together, they moved. “Meanwhile, tell me yer goods. Yer fuckin’... mojo. After this, we’ll grab a drink on me.”

— — —​

They had exploded onto the battlefield- or, at least, Boltius had tried to, per his tendency and desire to draw attention to himself in times of chaos. A quick stop by the armory on the way out and he’d loaded them up with an assortment of weaponized toys and tactical gear.

Two M-4s, fully-loaded and- He didn’t know how to turn the safety off, so when he’d stepped out of headquarters, hollering his war cries, only silence and disappointment had followed before police were sharpening their sights on him. “Change of plans,” he’d quickly discarded the guns, using the metal door he’d kicked off its hinges to defend himself from gunfire as he closed in on the officers.

An easy wipe.

Orange eyes scanned the parking lot. Boltius noted the overwhelming presence of Phoenixes making a graveyard of the landscape and briefly, just briefly, his chest ached. But it wasn’t for long. The sight of a Phoenix dropping as they were blanketed in writhing electricity served as a distraction from thoughts better kept aside. With renewed passion, Boltius rushed to the Phoenix’s aid, now-and-again checking on Gideon to ensure his well-being, and made his rounds across the field, assisting where he could and ought to, dragging Gideon this way and that.

For the most part, Gideon followed along with Bolt’s instructions. He generally stood back, away from the fighting, only adding a few minute contributions to help his fellow Phoenixes escape. A zap of illogical thoughts to distract an officer long enough for a Phoenix to strike back. A bit of persuasion for someone to go merciful.

— — — Now… — — —​
When came the appearance of a black Sedan through a gap in the concrete wall, three unique-looking individuals stepping onto the scene called for stopping attention.

And stop, Boltius did, when the last of the three newcomers exited the Sedan. A color-scheme so painfully familiar, he almost thought it was him. Nanami? Breathtaking pause; it was as if his heart had failed him. But no, it couldn’t be. A shake of the head, Bolt entertained the idea no further, and drew his eyes up toward the masked faces rising over the concrete wall. Zipping down, the forces fanned out to engage the nearest Phoenixes.

“Reinforcem-” That’s when he recognized them.

Boltius wasn’t prepared to take on the phantoms of the hurricane.

“Fall back…” he breathed, a shudder of the voice unheard over the noisy environment. An accidental slip of weakness he wouldn’t dare show in front of Lyric, Vulken, or Hector.

Eyes drifted toward the nostalgic-looking character then. The concern upon his face turned skeptical, marked by a tilt of the head and furrowed brow as two-and-two teased together, forced to make sense in his brain, like trying to stick the same poles of two magnets together and watching them run circles around each other. Then, magically, as if the poles had been reversed, it clicked. Not because it made sense, but because Boltius wanted it to.

“Gordeon,” he said quietly. Again, but louder this time, “Gordeon!” Boltius whirled around and held out his hand, “Gimme yer walkie. We’re not ready for this…” As he said it, Boltius saw Lyric. Lyric if she had been the one leading this fight. A Lyric whose word was unquestionable. Who, when she said fall back or fight, the Phoenixes did so with confidence in her judgment. Boltius wanted to make the right call.

“We’re… not?” Gideon asked, “Who are these people?”

Before he even received an answer though, Gideon was already passing over his walkie talkie. He trusted Bolt and his judgment, although he was a bit confused as to where Bolt's walkie talkie went.

Gideon glared at their surroundings. If they had no choice but to fall back, then they had a tough fight ahead of them. The officer reinforcements would mean casualties along with the wall that they'd either have to scale… or break through.

“Do you want me to blow the wall open?” Gideon asked Bolt. The usual resting bitch face look had been completely wiped off of Gideon's face, replaced with a more concerned, neutral look.

But Boltius only half registered the question as he examined the walkie’s functions and held it to his mouth. Before pressing the button, he told Gideon, “I don’t give a fuck what you do, dawg, but I’m calling this shit a quit.”

With that, he held the talk button down and spat the order, “YO, BLITZ HERE!!.. AIN’T GOT TIME FOR QUESTIONS BUT IT'S TIME TO REGROUP!- I’M SHUTTIN’ THIS SHIT DOWN- EVERYBODY FALL BACK!- AND I MEAN RETREAT, MOTHERFUCKERS! SPREAD THE FUCKIN' WORD!!”
POST NOTES
— —POST RECAP: Boltius and Gideon run into each other then join the battlefield before Boltius recognizes the police reinforcements as the enemies from the 2020 hurricane. Boltius calls for an immediate retreat.

(Interacting w/ Everyone)
(Mentioned Lyric, Hector, and Vulken once)
Nobody Special Nobody Special simj26 simj26 Lucem Lucem @Damafaud Coyote Hart Coyote Hart @W I N T E R angel doe angel doe Roda the Red Roda the Red Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
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Ezra & Passeri
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 1 [Where Giants Sleep]
LOCATION:
Heavenly Beast Plaza, Lower Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Ezra, Elias, Isobel, Kenji, Passeri, Wren
WHERE GIANTS SLEEP
As the walls and ceiling rumbled with the threat of a swift death, Ezra focused on tending to the pink saucer's pilot. Thanks to the construct's soft glow, it was easier to take notice of how the scenery had changed since they left the tomb. It appeared they had made their way back to the mines, which was a bit of a relief, considering they initially had no idea where the door would lead them to. However, they had plenty of other issues that needed to be dealt with before they could be considered safe.

Aside from the possibility of being crushed, they also had to worry about finding their way out. While it was clear they were back in the same stone pathways they saw earlier, navigating them was still a challenge. Luckily, he had enough foresight to plan for something like this.

Removing his hand from Passeri's shoulder, he quickly retrieved his own scrap of paper and applied his Potential to it. Instantly, it flew from his hand, briefly dancing in the idol's light before taking off. It traveled just a bit ahead of the barrier, maintaining enough distance to stay illuminated while also giving the driver enough time to make adjustments.

"If you follow that, we should end up back at the dragon statue." With that, he went back to work, healing Passeri as she followed the little navigator. This poison was becoming a pain for him as well.

“Right.”

The construct sped through the mines without a sound. Passeri had been quiet since their departure from the central chamber, distracted by thoughts of what was to come. Until he’d spoken up, she’d only remained somewhat aware of Ezra’s presence, regarding him much the same as she did the Webber at the moment— a person-shaped piece of luggage.

She had other things on her mind right now, even when she wasn’t steering their transport out of the way of rubble and debris.

“I…” Her voice was low, but steady. It wasn’t often that she lost control of herself like she had earlier, and a tunnel collapse concerned her far less than the poison that was still running through her veins, though now only faintly.

“I’m sorry.” Despite her usual social acumen, it wasn’t often that she felt the need to comfort people like this. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “For the Jack. You and her are friends, right? Wren, too. I…”

Passeri grimaced. She was supposed to be better than this.

“I should’ve done something.”

Silence followed. Not giving any immediate response, Ezra raised a brow as Passeri apologized. Was now really the time for that? Wasn't the collapsing ceiling a more pressing concern? Honestly, what brought that on?

In the interest of not getting thrown overboard, he chose not to voice some of the thoughts that were likely to earn the idol's ire. For a few more moments, the only sounds between them were the rumbles of the earth and clatter of falling stone. He wasn't sure what Passeri wanted to hear, or if she only wanted to be heard. However, he did eventually speak up, his tone as neutral as his expression.

"Like get yourself killed? Because that's what would've happened if you stayed back there." There was no underlying intention to mock or ridicule. He was just stating the obvious.

"Leaving was the right choice. The only choice. Mouse knew that, so she gave the order. That's all there is to it. No need for apologies or regrets."

After a few more beats of silence, he raised his voice again, trying to be heard above the surrounding chaos. "Besides, it's not like this is the end. I can say with confidence that they're far too stubborn to die in a place like this. They'll be out there somewhere, and there's nobody in this city I can't find. Mouse isn't the only one with tricks."

Ezra spoke with certainty, but in truth, he only partially believed in his words. Those Tigers were definitely some of the most stubborn people he'd ever met, especially the Jack, but his faith in their survival wasn't particularly strong. However, for Passeri's sake, he didn't show any trace of doubt. Well, it'd probably be more accurate to say it was for his own sake.

Comforting other people wasn't his area of expertise. He could heal their bodies, but when it came to emotional wounds, he didn't have the capacity or care to fix them. In spite of that, he tried to give Passeri some form of reassurance. He couldn't afford to have her lose focus right now, so whatever melancholy she was dealing with needed to go or at least be put on pause.

Passeri sighed. This was about what she’d been expecting, given the way Ezra had been acting. She didn’t need to be comforted. Ultimately, Isobel’s fate had been the fault of nobody other than herself, but that did not mean that she herself couldn’t have done better.

“Let’s hope you don’t find her in pieces then, hm?” Her words were crude, but she figured that was about all that Ezra was worth at the moment. His usual self was a bit pathetic, but she figured that he’d be better company in the moment. This version of him, whatever it was, needed to have its expectations kept in check. She knew well how putting too much faith in other peoples’ abilities ended up.

"If that's the case, then I guess I'll just have to put her back together." An equally crude joke for a crude question. It was nice to see that the overly thorny rose had given up on being sentimental. Something like that didn't suit her.

“We’re starting to move up. Brace yourself. It’s going to be even worse up there.” On queue, her barrier inclined up, starting to worm its way up a winding, diagonal path. They ascended for moments, and then minutes, until eventually they returned to a familiar section of the mines. The barrier traveled more carefully through the narrower corridors, but still held a steady pace. Eventually, a breeze started to lap against Passeri and Ezra’s skin.

“I think we’re almost back.” Passeri spoke over her shoulder, now keeping focused on the twisting path ahead. She hoped that her phone hadn’t been crushed by a fallen piece of roof, or some other awful inconvenience. She had more than one call that she needed to make.


Heavenly Beast Plaza was in absolute shambles. The glass dome that covered the entirety of the plaza had shattered, the streams overflown, trees fallen over, and the magnificent arches that held up upper central were in various states of disrepair. All around, civilians were running about, screaming, and crying, desperate to make an escape.

Not far, a familiar young boy was seen screaming for help as he tried to free a middle aged woman from under a large palm tree. If the plaza was any indication, the rest of central was likely to be in a similar state. The earthquake had been massive and the effects of it spread throughout New Oasis

Ordinarily, Ezra wouldn't have concerned himself with the plights of those around him. He should have been able to shrug off the destruction and cries of civilians, his only worry being his own safety. However, as the floating barrier carried him over the lip of the cavern's entrance, the sight of the crying child sparked something that wasn't supposed to exist in his altered psyche.

Like before, he could feel something crawling back up, nagging away at him as it tried to protest his instincts of self-preservation. It was an annoying, uncomfortable itch at the back of his mind, and no matter how much he tried to fight it, the feeling refused to submit. So, not wanting to lose precious time to the struggle, he decided to acquiesce.

He stepped off the glittering stage and ran toward the source of the agitating cries that set fire to his brain. He skidded to a stop and knelt beside the child, doing his best to ignore the mewling as he slapped a hand on the fallen timber. In an instant, the split trunk removed itself from the woman's back and reconnected with its other half.

As soon as the stranger was freed, he placed his palm on her, healing any injuries she may have suffered. When it looked like she could move, he gave both her and the child a momentary glance. He had no desire to see their reactions or hear anything they had to see. For the sake of getting rid of that insufferable prickling in his head, he only wanted to make sure they were okay.

When the phantom in his head was satisfied, he returned to Passeri and her prisoner, leaving no sign of discomfort evident in his words or expression. "The stairs and elevator are probably crushed or too crowded to get through. You still have enough energy to keep that up?"

“One better, but can you do me a favour first?”
Passeri took a handful of her hair, and draped it over her shoulder. “I want to clear the people out of here, and that’s going to be easier if they recognise me. Can you use your Potential to turn my hair back to normal?” Passeri’s eyes were serious. Ezra had saved at least one person on his own volition, so she was hoping he would spare her the snark this time, but so long as he lent her this little piece of help, she’d be satisfied. This wasn’t the time for them to be bumping egos.

Ezra kept a straight face as he held in a sigh. The people were fleeing a disaster zone right now, and the chances of them stopping to listen because they recognized some pop star didn't seem very high. However, not everyone was logical, so there was a possibility they'd go for it, especially if she was planning to use her Potential to evacuate them. Although, if that was the case, getting rid of some hair dye didn't really seem necessary.

If granting Passeri's request would move things along faster, he wouldn't waste any time voicing his thoughts. She could get them out, and that was all that mattered. It was just another favor to add to a growing list. Apparently, he was feeling very charitable today.

When he touched her hair and the blonde strands returned to their normal color, he felt an unpleasant wave of nostalgia. It was a memory from eight months ago that he previously thought nothing of, but it forced its way to the front of his mind, accompanied by another jolt. That damn itch was back.

The moment the dye was gone, he pulled his hand away. The tingling sensation lingered for a bit longer, but it soon dissipated like before. Hopefully, it would stay down this time.

“Thank you.” Passeri smiled at Ezra gratefully for what was probably the first time that day, and then removed her contacts. Now unbidden, her eyes’ usual pink light shone freely, though it had already begun to dim. “Now give me a minute, and I’ll have us out of here.”

Passeri snapped her fingers, and her phone swung down from above the statue, still safely tucked away within its protective bubble. The sphere vanished, and she stowed the device away in her pocket. She had a lot of calls she needed to make, but they would have to wait until later.

“EVERYBODY WHO CAN HEAR ME!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice booming with a volume that was entirely unbecoming of her usual image. “PLEASE COME TO THE DRAGON STATUE! WE ARE EVACUATING!”

Her voice echoed throughout the park, but she wasn’t so confident in her vocal training that she thought that she could fill an entire public space with her voice. In lieu of a microphone, she instead cast her hand high, and spewed out a cloud of cheap, fragile constructs that would repeat her message. She’d just have to hope that people would follow her instructions.

In the meantime, Passeri set her attention towards forging their means of escape. She splayed her hands beneath her and more energy struggled out of her. Another platform, round like a saucer, spread out through the air, and Passeri’s eyes dimmed in turn. By the time it had grown to its full size, one that she hoped would be big enough to hold whoever was stuffed there, the light was almost gone from her eyes completely. She’d have just enough juice left in her to make it out. She hoped.

“Right!” Passeri chirped, and hopped from one construct to the next. A crowd had already gathered, leaking in from the surrounding foliage, and circling the construct warily. She doubted that a pop star was what they had been hoping for as a rescuer, but that was what they were going to get.

“Hey hey, everyone! I know these are awful terms for us to be meeting on, but don’t be afraid! I can use this to get us all out of here!” She spoke to the crowd, urging them forward. She recognized a few of them from her earlier investigation. Why couldn’t they have just gone home?

“No need to worry! It’s very sturdy. I ride around on these all the time, see?” She hopped up and down on the larger construct to demonstrate, and then gestured to Ezra to do so further. “Super stable too, easier than riding a bike!”

“We can trust them!”
A woman’s voice rose up above the gathered crowd. Pushing their way to the front was the young boy who had followed Isobel through the park earlier and his mother whom Ezra had saved. With gratitude in her eyes, she hoisted her son up on to Passeri’s platform without hesitation before clambering on herself. “Come on, everybody!” One by one, the people piled onto the shimmering pink construct.

Crawling into a gap between the two Tigers, the boy tugged gently onto Ezra’s pant leg. “Thank you for saving my mom.”

There it was again. The moment Ezra looked down at the boy, the vexatious pounding in his skull returned. Like always, he kept his composure, but the internal wails were eating away at him, far worse than nails on a chalkboard. The unknown reason for the sudden pains only made the experience more agitating.

Temporarily drained of his usual well-received charm, he gave the grateful boy no words. He simply nodded in acknowledgment, trying to keep the discomfort from showing on his face as he turned to Passeri. "You ready?"

Passeri watched the last of the civilians trickle onto the raft, scrutinizing the integrity of her construct as each stepped on. It wobbled slightly underneath their combined weight, but she was still reasonably confident that they’d be able to make the trip.

“Yeah. Make sure nobody falls off for me.” She turned to Ezra, gave him a half-confident grin, and then the raft slowly begun to rise. The ascent was slow and laboured, the weight of the crowd pushing down against the telekinetic force of Passeri’s Potential, but it was steady. There was a moment where Passeri had her doubts, there had been more people in the park than she’d expected, but halfway through their rise, she felt a familiar tingling in her spine.

Somewhere within the crowd there was at least one of her fans. Or perhaps people were just more easily smitten than she expected. It didn’t matter either way. A tiny trickle of energy flowed into her body, providing her with the extra edge that she needed to make a confident ascent. The smell of gasoline-stained city air cut through the artificially purified air of the underground park, and sunlight brushed against the crowd.

They’d made it.


By the time they’d made it out, Passeri’s eyes had turned dull and red, drained completely of their usual magenta light. They now stood on a ruined street, littered with rubble and cars abandoned by their panicked drivers. The crowd had already started to scatter, trickling off into the cityscape in search of their loved ones, or just a safer, more open space.

“Well, that was a disaster.” Passeri laughed, but she wasn’t really joking. “Do you have anywhere to be? Personally, I’ve got…” She eyed her phone, which she was anxiously rolling about in her hand. A lot of calls to make.”

That was an understatement. Between all of the day’s revelations, and checking in on the show, she could already tell this was going to be a long evening. She just hoped that Miles was doing a good job managing whatever crisis was occurring upstairs.

"Well, I would like to go home and enjoy a nice nap, but I don't think I'll be getting any rest with all this shaking going on." Tapping away at his phone's screen, Ezra glanced at Passeri from the corner of his eye. "I suppose I can check in with Elijah, assuming he survived. He did volunteer to help out if we brought back any prisoners."

Elias wanted to discuss the many mysteries they'd uncovered today. Sitting down for a meeting after a long day of dealing with cults and near death experiences didn't sound very appealing, but Ezra understood the importance of trying to sort this mess out. He also didn't want to deal with Webber for much longer, so he'd take the opportunity to hand him off to someone else. Before that, however, he needed to get out of Central.

Right on cue, a horn blared from down the street, forcing a few of the fleeing civilians to take notice of a slowly approaching car. Avoiding the broken crowd of people and their vehicles, it rolled up as instructed, stopping right in front of the two Tigers. With his trusty steed having reached its destination, Ezra closed the companion app on his phone and pocketed it.

"I don't think you'll be able to hail a cab anytime soon, so you're free to come along, if you wish." As he spoke, he reached down to grab the glowing construct at his feet. Carrying the container and the man inside, he quickly opened the rear door and threw Webber into the passenger's cabin.

After taking a moment to dust himself off and get rid of some of the debris from the mines, he opened the driver-side door. Before climbing inside, he flicked a switch positioned near the window controls, causing a glass partition to rise, separating the driver's cabin from the makeshift holding cell. He didn't believe Webber would wake up before being relocated, but it was best to take precautions.

With that out of the way, he hopped behind the wheel. His back sank into the comfortable leather, and he took a moment to enjoy a brief moment of peace. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, trying to clear his mind and expel every last trace of the irritating sensations that had been building up. However, in trying to do so, he only accomplished the opposite.

That moment of comfort caused his mental dam to crumble, unleashing a flood of the eerie whispers that previously only trickled through cracks. Something flared in the back of his head, and his eyes snapped open. There was no pain, and he still saw the world as clearly as he did before. However, for a few seconds, nothing registered.

His features softened, and the confident smirk was torn open as his lips parted to voice unspoken words. He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror, staring at his own confused expression before his wide-eyed gaze shifted to his hands. He gripped the wheel hard, knuckles whitening as the gears in his head began to turn in the opposite direction.

"Why did..." He remembered everything. He remembered every word he spoke and every action he took. Without a doubt, those were his decisions. He did all of that. He just didn't know why.

"I'm going back!" In a panic, he pushed forward. As he scrambled to get out of the car, he was viciously attacked by recent memories. When he recalled the image of Isobel being dragged away, he felt a sting as his skin turned pale. Why did he leave? Why didn't he try to help?

Passeri’s fingers were on her phone, halfway through punching in a phone number when Ezra lost himself. Her eyes end wide with surprise, and she quickly stowed her phone away. His voice trembled in rhythm with the crumbling earth below, possessed with a boyish terror that, only moments ago, he’d seemed entirely dispossed of.

As soon as one foot touched the ground, he stopped. Along with his movement, the new wave of stress ceased. Straightening his back, he ran a hand through his hair and turned to look at Passeri, smirk in place.

"You'll have to forgive me for that little outburst. I think I spent too much time in the mi-"

Something smashed into his brain with great force, causing him to slip and fall forward. His face smacked against the cracked asphalt, and he let out a groan of pain as sharp shards of gravel dug into his sweat-covered cheeks. "I-"

Passeri had dashed to Ezra’s side moments ago, but she’d yet to speak a word. She hovered over the younger man, entirely unsure how to address the waves of guilt and confidence that were lapping over him.

“Are you-?”

Before his trembling voice could get a single word out, he cut himself off and rose to his knees. "This is beginning to g-"

Again, the calm, unamused tone was silenced. Another pang pushed him back down. The needles in his brain dug in deeper, shooting unbearable pain down his nerves as the two voices went back and forth, fighting for dominance.

During the mental game of tug-of-war, his body writhed. Heat boiled up inside of his stomach, crawling upwards until it finally reached his throat. He heaved, and the burning sensation forced tears to well in the corners of his eyes as his chest tightened. Desperate and hungry for air, he took deep, labored breaths.

It felt like he spent hours laying there as his insides were torn apart, but he eventually picked himself off the ground, stumbling as he placed a hand on the roof of the car for support. No better than a pathetic little creature on the verge of collapse, all he could do was look at Passeri as he tried to remember how to speak. His mouth was dry, and his tongue was heavy.

“...Are you alright?” Passeri spoke softly, and lowered herself to Ezra’s side. There he was. The person who she’d come to expect. She’d seen people like this before, huddled over and wrenching their guts out. Their minds had been addled by the drugs of the North, but despite all his faults, Ezra hardly seemed the type to stoop to such a level.

Still, the way his mind gyrated between emotions, between what felt to her like two completely different men. It didn’t feel like the kind of turmoil that a mind would conjure onto itself.

"I..." In the aftermath of his struggle, Ezra’s thoughts were disorganized, and he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. However, he knew he wanted to say something.

"I'm sorry..." He wasn't sure who he was really aiming those words at.

“It’s fine. You said it yourself. There’s nothing we could’ve done.” Passeri sighed. It was a good thing that he’d had his breakdown when he had, but she still hadn’t a clue how to deal with it. He and Isobel had been friends, so usually the responsibility would have fallen to her, but she wasn’t here anymore. At the very least, she empathized with… Whatever exactly it was that he was feeling.

“That scumbag in the back will lead us right to her.” Her eyes were cold, and harsh. “And they’ve got a lot more to answer for than just kidnapping your friend. Trust me. They’re gonna regret letting us get away.”

All Ezra could was silently nod as he pulled himself back into the driver's seat. He hit the leather like a heavy stone as the rocks fell from his face. His entire body was a mess, inside and out, but he could still pull himself together enough to hit the gas. He needed to keep his focus elsewhere. He wasn't sure what would happen to him if he didn't.

As the car rolled forward, taking them away from Central's chaos, he attempted to keep his mind vacant, not wanting to return to a mental warzone. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't keep his own words from silently echoing. I'm sorry....


 
Albino Tigers
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 1 [Where Giants Sleep]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Elias, Ezra, Isobel, Kenji, Passeri, Wren
Where Giants Sleep
By the time Elias had emerged from the tunnels, the violent tremors had subsided but Central had already been reduced to ruins. Where a door was supposed to be, he instead exited through a fault in the wall to a destroyed room with books and files strewn all over the place. From the name plate still resting on the desk, it was clear that this had been Atlas' office. As if on cue, Elias' phone buzzed alerting him to a message. He was receiving signal once more.

Beyond the half standing wall, voices of distress could be heard as people attempted to extract themselves and others from the rubble. Smoke filled the air tinged with fear and mayhem. Prehistoric terrors and man-made mistakes had left Central in the dust. The prize the gangs had spent so long fighting for, obliterated in a mere matter of minutes. The city had failed it people. They hadn't realised it yet, but they would soon. Uncertainty and turmoil was guaranteed for many in the near future and discontent was sure to rise.

How did things end up here? How had they escaped with more questions than answers? There would be time to address that at some point. For now, what the city needed was respite.

 
NPC Post - Various
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 1 [PASSERI PARK'S ULTRA PASSIONATE MELODY ONSLAUGHT]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Florence, Pascal, Gavril, Milo, Dimitri
THE LAIR OF THE MIDDLER
"Wh-Woah, bro!" A lattice of crumpled steel creaked beneath Brock's weight. Spidermonkey indeed, he'd finally lived up to his murky title, and narrowly avoided a plunge into the maw of collapsed mechanics below. But now... He was stuck. He'd been quite confident throughout the gauntlet, despite his shoddy performance, but now reality was starting to set in. The ground beneath him groaned more and more threateningly with each passing moment, and his heart accelerated in turn.

"R-right!" His eyes lit up when the white-haired contestant slid towards him, and he thrust out his palm towards his, but unfortunately fell short. The steel beneath him complained loudly at the sudden motion, jerking slightly further towards collapse.

"Gimme a sec!" Brock had never been one to be deterred, though. He bent low, propped himself against the most stable piece of metal he could purchase, and then sprung up. Against the force of his leap, the last of the lattice's resistance gave out, and fell away into a pile of metal below. It wasn't for nought, though, as he flew true through the air, and seized Milo's hand in his. A look of relief briefly flashed across his features, before it was quickly warped into the opposite. Something was wrong. His eyes darted about in panic, attempting to pinpoint the sense of primordial disorientation that suddenly flushed through is body, but he was gone before he could puzzle it together.

One moment he'd been dangling in Milo's grasp, the next he'd been flattened, and sucked through the air. One of the countless pages of Milo's notebook had received him, now lavish with a portrait of the scraggly, middle-aged man.

As if in mourning, the room then shifted again. The final bit of resilience the Lair's support had left in them gave out, and there was a sickening snap of metal from below. All at once, the complex plummeted, threatening to bury all of the contestants present within a casket of steel and plastic.

"O-oh no you don't!" Then came that shrill, tear-stricken voice. It wasn't often that she used her Potential. It was boorish, ugly thing, and she very much would've been happy to go the rest of her life without using it. But duty called. Her body almost moved on its own as she wriggled from Gav's grasp, and it completely moved on its own when she lept from it. Small, black tears trailed from her eyes as she plummeted, which quickly thickened into gouts of thick, black ink which swallowed her body completely.

Within moments, the woman was gone. Thick, leathery tentacles exploded from where she'd been, wrapping themselves around whatever they could. The complex's freefall stopped with a sudden, violent crunch, and a deluge of the squid-woman's ink rained down upon the contestants who remained. A hulking, black Kraken dangled in the centre of the structure, looking down on it through a pair of sad, beady eyes. Elizabeth still dwelled beyond them, but was unable to speak through her freshly formed beak.

The creaking of the complex had stopped, but the building continued to shake. She hoped that they'd just continue with their flight, and not stay to gawk. That wasn't the kind of fame she'd been hoping for when she registered for this thing.

 
CAMILA GASPARI
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Heist]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Camila, Ryutaro, Maria, Jennifer, Sylvie, Samira
THE HEIST
The airs around had calmed down. There was the sighs of relief among the group, there was success, there was victory, and then, there was a flash. Camila let out a shocked gasp as the van was moved violently by the explosion, holding tight onto Sylvie by pure reflex. She struggled to get out of the vehicle, coughing due to the smoke as her lungs were already sensitive due to the tear gas earlier. The rest all happened so quick, the twin bastards had apparently managed to catch up to them. Camila's eyes went wide as the Queen got caught up in the middle of the following explosion.

It couldn't be, there was simply no way Ryutaro could die from that, right? He was an enigmatic man who's most likely gotten away from much worse in the past. Camila grit her teeth, she would be furious if her one gateway into climbing the ladder was snuffed out before she could even make any progress. But other than that, this also would mean that their arguably most capable fighter was gone. She gulped as the twin pointed at her, he wanted to kill them all, and she fear that the possibility might not be a stretch at all.

She heard Sylvie's voice, noticing him sprinting away from the corner of her eye. She nearly shouted at him in reaction, but decided against it. She knew the rookie wasn't planning to run off, he cared about others, still too wet behind the ears, but perhaps this could be of use, if they manage to get help in time.

"Tch, it just sounds to me that you're a real creep, you shitheads are really starting to piss me off, you know?"

Her tail uncoiled from her waist and extended, ondulating menacingly in front of her. She gave both Samira and Maria a quick glance, Queen or not, they had to fend off the assassins. If they managed to find a way to overcome their elusive ability, her ability could come great to eventually wear them out, but alternatively, they just had to make enough time for Sylvie to get help.


@joshuadim @Beann @Uasal @Shoya WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten
 
"TAZZ"
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Raphael, Peyton, Julian, Kisara, Takaonna
THICKER THAN WATER
The harsh report of chains being ripped from their anchors triggered an imperceptible flinch of jaded eyes as August watched Kisara free Raphael from his bindings, then hoist his limp form over her shoulder to conclude their work here as done.

Julien led their farewell from the prison chamber, but August hung back a spell. With a sweeping glance, he examined the room for the marks of its history, fixating lastly on a single rat nestled in a far corner, blanketed by shadows, to which it had scurried upon their entrance.

Raphael had been hung for the taking, like a piece of meat to reward the circus lion for its performance.

Something about the ease of retrieval gave rise, within August, to an itching suspicion that, perhaps, there was something more they weren’t seeing or calling to question. Surely, the fight hadn’t ended after only the first wave? Surely, the enemy’s force hadn’t been fully exhausted therein the warehouse? And, if such was the case, would not further measures have been taken to guarantee the Serpents’ failure to acquire Raph after the fact? At the very least, a locked door?

A thoughtful hum resonated in August’s throat where he stood, becoming a sigh. Then, with a shrug, he turned away from the rat and left the chamber.

Long strides caught him up with the group before enough time could pass to draw concern to his absence. There, he avoided eye contact with Peyton for the earlier glomping. It was cute, he would admit, but he couldn’t bring himself to revert to his usual lackadaisy under the weight of looming trepidation. Not to mention the sharp fingers of pain pricking at the back of his skull.
AUGUST/POST NOTES​
— —WEARING: (See post image) White turtleneck; Teal jacket; White pants (smeared with blood); Black shoes; Earrings

— —AUGUST'S STATE:
- - Currently, August has a large gash at the back of his skull. His hair is bloodied and a knotted mess.
- - He has a concussion.

— —POST RECAP: August hangs back for a moment to examine Raph's chamber, then catches back up with the group. He's suspicious of how easy the retrieval was.

(Interacting w/ Julian, Peyton, Kisara, Raphael)
(Mentioned no one)
Coyote Hart Coyote Hart simj26 simj26 AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa @Sei Shonagon Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Ryoma Matsuno
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 1 [Follow the Lightning]
LOCATION:
South District
PARTICIPANTS:
Giles, Noa
FOLLOW THE LIGHTNING
Ryoma listened to Gile's drug addled description of the nights events with mild disinterest. Parsing the more extravagant and unnecessary bits of information, it seemed that Hitoshi's wild night had only gotten wilder. Normally he wouldn't have minded following the bread crumb trail the man had left, but time was of the essence.

When Giles eventually managed to remember where Hitoshi had gone next after his feat of dancing as the "Destroyer of Worlds", Ryoma gave him a curt nod. Shortly after, his attention shifted towards the ground below them as a sudden tremor worked its way up from somewhere deep below. Ryoma got a sinking feeling in his gut after the fact, before his work phone began to shake itself in his pants pocket. Ignoring the subtle buzzing, being a clear sign of more troubles to come, he looked to Noa and her bodyguard.

"Let's go."

Motion with a tilt of his head towards the tunnel, Ryoma uncrossed his arms and began walking towards its entrance. Stopping just short of entering, he turned back towards Giles saying.

"Thanks for your help. We'll send the Oranjese your regards."

With a smile, Ryoma made a promise of violence on the groups behalf. In addition to the troubles caused to both Sajeem and Anya. After all, Hitoshi wasn't the only one wracking up a debt that would need to be repaid.

"Ladies first."

Gesturing with his hand for Noa and her bodyguard to take the lead, Ryoma bent down after them to squeeze into the tunnel. After a bit of walking in silence, and with no sign of an exit, he broke the stillness of the journey with a bit of conversation.

"Hitoshi's gonna owe you a new dress at this point."


Giles(@joshuadim), Noa(@Peckinou)
 
Last edited:
Fade (Isaiah Spade)
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Dragon and the Phoenix]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Isaiah, Celeste, Chikage, Helva, Jozef, Kaede, Kanna, Markus, Meirin, Nikolai, Rin, Sebastian, Shen, Toru, Tri, Vulken, Yong-Yut
THE DRAGON AND THE PHOENIX
Isaiah fought to keep his balance as the earth shook, the sudden tremors adding another level of chaos to the constantly worsening situation. When he finally found his footing, he took in his surroundings once more, listening to blaring alarms and panicked screams as he watched for any arising threats. For a moment, he could have sworn he heard the growl of a large animal, but he had no desire to go back and check if his ears were deceiving him. He and Meirin had to stay on the move.

Before he could respond to the Sleeping Giant's question, the world turned dark again. Like before, his vision went black for a second, signaling the arrival of the woman from earlier. When he regained his sight, she was there, just as expected. The woman named "Spirit" had a brief, heated discussion with Yong-Yut that ended with the latter handing off Momo's unconscious body before they ran back to the tense standoff.

Isaiah made no attempt to stop his temporary ally. While they may have worked together, their shared objective had been accomplished, and his allegiance was not to their alliance. Before anything else, he was a Dragon, and the well-being of civilians and his fellow gang members took precedence over the Phoenixes. He could not go back to help them while there were others who needed him more. However, he held no ill will toward any of them.

As Yong-Yut rushed by, Isaiah kept running ahead. When they crossed paths for the last time, he left the Phoenix one final message, filling their ears with a well-wish. "Good luck."

Turning his attention back to Meirin, Isaiah used his Potential to carry his words directly into the towering woman's ears. "I'd like to find Tempest, but I don't think that will be possible." Shen had soared far away, and there was too much chaos in Central right now. All they could do was have faith in their King while trying to support the people they could still reach.

"We'll head back to where we came from. I'm worried about Orbit and the others. If we find any civilians or Dragons on the way, we'll try to get them to safety." Making it out of the district would be very difficult while the earthquake was going, so heading back to the meeting location to support Kanna and the rest of the gang seemed like the optimal decision. Although, if he were being honest, it felt like the only decision he could make right now.

"How are you feeling? Do you think you have enough stamina to get us back?" If Meirin's giant steps could carry them across the mayhem, they could return to Kanna's side a lot faster than running normally. However, he had to keep his friend's condition in mind.

While waiting for a response, Isaiah set his gaze on nearby civilians and used his Potential to cover their bodies in a colorful glow. While using his illusions to direct them toward shelter, he could also make sure their positions were obvious to Meirin. He didn't want to risk her accidentally crushing someone, both for her sake and theirs.


 
SNAKES & SAMURAIS
CS Link
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Damian, August, Julian, Kinsley, Kisara, Kyoden, Peyton, Raphael, Sabrina, Shinko
THICKER THAN WATER

Damian watched with great interest as the masked warrior balanced on the edge of his blade, but he did not let the captivating performance draw his attention away from her next move. When the leg came close, his tentacles twitched and pushed off the ground, lifting him and the massive sword into the air. Feeling inspired, he was compelled to mimic the foe's actions once again, so he flipped backwards into the air before the long, sucker-covered limbs rushed down to reach the ground and support him.

As he lowered himself, he watched the sparks fly between both women. It was an interesting sight, but for the sake of satisfying his curiosity and reaching Raphael, he couldn't just sit back and observe. This battle between honorable samurai had to reach its conclusion soon, and he had to work towards that goal. At the very least, he wanted to get as much out of it as he could while doing so.

When Stingray used her ability to hold the katana, Damian focused on the wielder. Three of the four towering masses of muscle lunged, restraining the warrior and trapping her in their coils.. Damian acted in tandem with his tentacles, bringing down the massive blade with the intent to split the potential captive down the middle. The girl’s eyes glowered with serene intensity at the descending sword.

The blade met with air, slicing through where the samurai had been just a blink ago. From behind Damian, the sound of a body collapsing was heard. The samurai staggered to her feet, her hand darting behind her. With a flick of the same hand, she sent three steel darts straight at Sabrina’s face, in hopes to gouge out her eyes.

Kinsley’s lithe frame remained stationed against one of the walls, the bottom of her boot planted upon it and the other situated firmly on the ground. Eventually the black liquid that made up the mask to hide her appearance from others started to slide away until autumn colored strands pooled past her shoulders. A look of annoyance was visible on her face as she flexed her fingers that held the phantom feeling of Damian’s no longer present hand.

This sword swishing, ballerina, tip toeing fuck just had to come along with their fancy tricks and claim his attention. She thought to herself, chewing incessantly on the inside of her cheek in frustration.

You know…We could alway–

“Nah.“
Kinsley retorted aloud, cutting off the voice hissing within her head.

While the Serpent was an avid lover of fighting there was no glory or thrill to be found in completely outnumbering someone, unlike the showdown with the Chessmaster where they were greatly outmanned. So perched on the wall she remained, ready to deflect or defend if the situation called for it.

A lazy grin tugged at her lips while she watched the fight and Damian’s rather entertaining performance. Those bright azure eyes flickered to the side as they caught movement speeding directly in her path towards Sabrina. A hand drenched in oozing black reached forward and swatted them out of the air as if they were mere toys. They were sent clattering to the ground with the resounding but subtle clink of metal. The samurai clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Watch it.“ She growled out, her tone more akin to someone that was one inconvenience away from snapping. And she was.

Nodding thankfully at Kinsley, Sabrina took the opportunity to lock eyes with Avant Garde. “Do you really think you’ll be able to kill all three of us by yourself?” Her feet rose from the ground. “If so, you’re either seriously overestimating yourself or underestimating the Sable Serpents.”

Then, without wasting another second, she zoomed forward, gliding past Damian to close the distance between her and the smaller figure behind him as she delivered a wide, electricky slash of Kyoden’s blade.

“Deepest reliance / Upon your blade and powers / blunts the blade of both.” Like a cold breeze, calm and sweeping, her rasping voice was as cool as her indifferent parry of Sabrina’s blade, her scabbard knocking away the strike. “Like stumbling, drunken wastrels / You bring only dishonor / To your sword’s owner.” The message was clear. The numbers did not matter. Their bungling, clumsy movements were far below her to even bother retrieving her sword for them.

The parried slash ended up driving itself into an adjacent wall, leaving a noticeable fissure as Sabrina pulled the buzzing weapon free. “Oh, you mean the traitor?” The swordswoman did not reply, but she cocked her head questioningly.

The potential. The undead that knew the sword’s owner. Sabrina wasn’t stupid regardless of the innocent act the dead girl tried to play off.

But if anyone cared enough to pay attention, they might have noticed a faint thumping coming from the hallway past Avant Garde. A thumping that hit and hit every second—louder and louder. Eventually, the ground began to shake for each boom; an unstoppable force surging through the darkness.

The first thing to emerge from the darkness was a hand, caressing the ground like a spider. Then another, attached on the other side of the hall. From the center, a moaning head of unkempt hair and damaged, pale skin. The Takaonna yelled, hearing the sounds of combat near within reach.

She charged down the hall, and with one fell swoop, razed the ground where the duel occurred—regardless of if she caught a fellow Serpent in the attack.

The swordswoman’s eyes widened at the sudden intrusion. She gave a barking yelp, and her body disappeared, warping into emptiness

“Takaonna!” The wild flurry of swinging of elongated arms forced Sabrina to fly (magnetically levitate) herself backwards to avoid the attack as the roof and walls of the mysterious corridor took an HP beating. Cracks formed.

That was when Miasma decided to strike. The masked man ran in a charge towards Taka, reeling back his baseball bat to try to deliver a blow to her midriff. He had been too presumptuous to assume that he could hit Taka’s neck, so the stomach was the next best choice.

This promptly sent the blind, rampaging monster into an even bigger frenzy. Her torso curled inward. Her limbs flailed like tortured snakes in a box, hitting every inch of hallway in the vicinity, grabbing at the air and anything she felt. The Takaonna groaned and screeched, her body itself flopping on the floor in panicked mania. The sounds of impacted concrete and her pained yelling filled the air now. Dust fell.

“Two against four now / The battlefield is leveled / Let us dance once more.” The swordswoman reappeared beside Miasma. She nodded to her companion, and drew out another knife from behind her, switching her grip on her scabbard, and set herself into yet another stance. Miasma returned her nod, taking up an epee-style fighting pose to complement Avant Garde’s.

Ducking an extended swipe, Sabrina landed herself next to the main body of the blubbering mess flopped on the ground and gave it a swift (not too hard) kick to get its attention. Currents traveled along her foot, not powerful enough to cause damages or burns, but enough to give the arguably creepiest member of the Sable Serpents a bit of a waking jolt. “Stop wailing and get up. The enemies are in front of you.”

The Takaonna stopped moving. Retracting her limbs, she rose to her feet, listening.

For Damian, Takaonna's tantrum was no issue. Sticking to the ceiling with the aid of his many suckers, he gave the woman a brief, curious glance before turning his attention to the second sword in his grasp. In the middle of the chaos, he managed to snatch the masked warrior's katana, creating an unbalanced pair with his larger blade.

As he held the weapons parallel to each other, he recalled the scratchy, muffled voice of a narrator he heard long ago. He remembered the vivid description of a vagabond who cut down opponents with a sword in each hand, each of them a different length. The memory and its similarity to his current situation filled Damian with the urge to try out the fabled fighting style he had yet to see in person.

Emboldened by the desire to experiment, he pushed against the ceiling with great strength, leaving behind craters as he sped toward the two enemies like a six-armed missile. His tentacles then aimed their tips forward, prepared to strike and form a protective shell around him as he sliced at their sides. His first attempt at recreating one of the many legendary maneuvers.

In an attempt to stop the charging tentacle monster, Miasma swung his baseball bat to meet Damian’s sword, electronic grunting emanating from his mask as he struggled against the sword. His strength wasn’t sufficient though, and Miasma was thrown aside.

But not before counterattacking. As he crashed into a wall, what appeared like three pairs of sliced bread with a shuriken and a slice of Hokkaido cheddar cheese flew at Damian’s tentacles with the aim of slicing open the shell. Three shuriken sandwiches in other words. Hopefully it would be enough to give Avant Garde an opening to attack.

That was Miasma’s Potential. A nearly useless ability to make sandwiches. He had been kicked out of Minor League baseball for being able to create sandwiches.

The throwing stars sank into the ink-colored muscle that protected Damian's body. Then there was a series of smacks, the sound of bread and cheese sticking to the shell of tentacles. Each projectile earned a quizzical glance before they were plucked from his extra limb. Even with her mask obscuring half of her face, Avant looked similarly incredulous.

While his main hands tightly gripped his blades, one of his tentacles slithered across his body, tucking the components of the deadly sandwich into his jacket. He now had more weapons befitting a samurai, but the thrown food was also of interest to him. He made a mental note to study them further after Raphael was secured.

In a blink, the four walls of the mysterious, wood-paneled hall closed in around them all. Or perhaps they opened? It was most like both of these things happened at once. Where once there was bamboo and soft, warm light, was now cold, hard concrete. The warehouse into which they had originally ventured materialized around them again as the illusion melted away.

“The hell?” Whether Sabrina’s response was to the illusion’s sudden disappearance or the sandwich shurikens, she couldn’t say. Probably both. “...is he out of juice?”

"Look not away."

In the assault, if one could call it that, of foodstuffs, the shadowless form of the samurai sprinted forwards, her knife and scabbard in hand. Her weapons clashed against Damian's own, sparks of steel scattering across their surroundings. She pressed her knife onto her katana, and the scabbard onto Damian's own oversized weapon, her head cocking to one side, studying his expression, waiting for a slip.

As the masked warrior pushed her weapons against his, Damian's sewn-on smile stretched even further. The sound of metal against metal was nostalgic, but this time, it wasn't corrupted by the warping static of a recording. This was what it was like to live through the fantastical clash he heard all those years ago. He needed more. More answers, and more satisfaction.

A sharp scraping sound pierced his ears as steel slid against steel. He broke the contact, creating a small distance between them as he pushed back. Still hungry for the taste, he charged back in and slashed away, the glint of the blades showering across the barren plain. The swordswoman's mask shifted, as if she was offering a hint of a smile, but her eyes never wavered, and she, too, reciprocated, meeting her strange weapons against his.

The ringing of steel against steel was deafening, their flurrying blows raining, crashing upon each other like waves upon the stars. The ground beneath them scarred with deep gouges as their weapons retreated and then danced back up to meet their partners, scattering forth flowers of fire. Their wild ballet sliced across the air, cutting across the battlefield, uncaring of who and what got between them.

The swordswoman's skin split upon her cheek, her thigh, her arm, but no blood spilled forth, and she maintained her pressure as if the wounds had been merely scratches.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the duel's end was announced with the toll of Damian's own sword. The swordswoman's knife somersaults through the air behind her, striking the ground blade-first, and shattering. She stumbled backwards, then regained her posture.

Her mask shifted, and then dropped from her face, the strings cut from their clash. Her mouth was split open from the corner of her lips to her ear, baring her teeth and red open flesh. What remained of the skin only remained bound to her jaw by a thick white string. It wasn't clear if she was grinning, or if it was simply the Glaswegian smile she sported, but she seemed awfully unperturbed. She stretched out her hands, one still clutching onto her empty scabbard, a grand, blasé declaration that she was wide open.

The warrior's appearance left an impression on Damian, but instead of triggering any sort of discomfort, it only awakened more interest. However, focusing on one thing at a time, he took his stance. Remembering the steps that were once described to him from beyond a prison door, he knew what the proper step was in this reenactment. He had to answer the challenge.

He rushed ahead, all arms at his side. Lunging, he aimed to pierce his opponent with both blades. The larger came in from the left, and the shorter came in from the right, biting at the unmasked woman like a pair of sharp fangs, and…

They gnashed at nothing but air. The woman stepped aside at the last second, the old classic Charlie and the football trick. Her scabbard slid upon her sword smoothly, and with a flick of her hand, she tugged the weapon, and its home, free from Damian's grip. Her laugh was like rusted bells within a ruined shrine that rang dully across the walls as she materialized beside Miasma, teleporting away from Damian and the Serpents.

"You have offered a warrior a grand toast to her health. Both you," she pointed at Damian, then at Sabrina, "and you." She steadied her weapon at her side. "I am satisfied."

“But I’m not,”
Sabrina held her non-sword wielding arm out towards their undead attackers, palm facing them and fingers splayed as she activated her potential, the force of which should pressure whatever metals they carried to the warehouse ground. Sword battles? Potential battles? All that mattered to her was defeating the enemies and survival, which to her were the same, regardless of the means used. To Takaonna, she gave only one order. “Restrain them.”

The swordswoman rested her hand on her seated scabbard, bent forwards slightly. With a complete 180 from how she had been just minutes ago, she stuck out her tongue from between her marred lips. It would have been a playful gesture if it wasn't such a horrifying image to behold. "Blehhh! Too bad! I'm outski!" Her hand hooked around her partner's arm. "Miasma! Let's skedaddle!"

Takaonna’s arms shot out like rubber bands, aimed at where she heard Avant Garde’s voice.

Miasma had been standing a few steps back to see if Avant Garde needed a hand. A baguette with a sandwich cutout was in his hands. The katana that was supposed to be stuffed into the sandwich bread was stuck on the ground. He jolted with surprise upon feeling her arm hooking around his. Acting on instinct, he swung Avant Garde back like a backpack in order to get them both out of harm’s way of Takaonna’s arms. A cloud of debris rose up, putting a quasi-barrier between the two of them.

“We’re leaving?” Miasma asked. He frowned, the facial expression completely hidden underneath his mask. The masked baseball player didn’t like that idea. He wanted to get revenge on the Serpents for killing his friends. But with them outnumbered severely, it seemed that vengeance wasn’t going to be an option. And there had certainly been enough death that day already.

Angrily, Miasma glared at the group of Serpents, “You come into our home, kill my friends, and now have the audacity to try to take us captive? Do you not have an ounce of shame? Are you planning to use us as hostages like how you did with Romero? Well, too bad.”

Miasma strained to pick up the baseball bat that was magnetized against the ground, and once he got it a solid few feet above the ground, he slammed it into the ground, a combination of his powerful strength and Sabrina’s magnetic pull creating a shockwave that upheaved the ground further into an untraversable terrain. The floor beneath the group rumbled unsteadily. Avant Garde braced herself and glanced up at the ceiling. Her torn lips seemed to mouth something.

“Believe me, I want to kill you myself,” Miasma said as he turned to leave with Avant Garde, “But oh well. You’ll all be dead soon either way.”

"Today is victory over yourself of yester-day. Tomorrow is victory over lesser men,"
the swordswoman rasped quietly, her body language shifted again, and pulled her partner out of the way as pieces of the ceiling dislodged itself and crashed down upon the ground.

The two revenants vanished, obscured behind the piling rubble and Miasma's barrier of earth and stone as the ground beneath them continued to shake and roar. The rest of the corridor continued to break apart, splintering. In the rumbling chaos, an exit was clear, down the rest of the corridor.

And so the Serpents ran, with the walls behind them closing in.


 
GM POST
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Dragon and the Phoenix]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Helva, Isaiah, Kanna, Kaede, Meirin, Rin, Shen, Vulken, Yong-Yut
THE DRAGON AND THE PHOENIX
I2Z5F16.png
No... Not really... The voice faltered, her uncertainty palpable between their shared connection. I remember the meet... I remember... No, it's all dark.

At the mention of being restored the control over her own limbs, Lyric's voice in Kaede's head did not answer, but nevertheless the feeling was well understood.

Yes, please. The please was a bit tongue-in-cheek, even for a wisp of a dormant personality supplanted in its own body.

It didn't take long. Lyric could feel the otherness, the presence, fade. The feeling of existing outside of her own body, staring down from above like some kind of fucked up sleep paralysis, faded too, and before long she was staring out at the world with her own two eyes, clenching her own two fists, pounding the rumbling pavement with her own two feet as she sped toward an unknown destination.

Tired legs found their second wind as the Phoenix King darted across the district, on a mission. With one bounding leap, she left the shaking streets behind. After a long, slow rise and fall, she landed at a sprint on a nearby rooftop. Dashing from one end to the next, Lyric leapt again. Again she landed, and this time over the lip of the rooftop she spied the remnants of the meeting ground... The meeting ground turned warzone.

Inhaling sharply, she called out in a loud, clear voice for all Phoenixes to hear, “THAT'S ENOUGH! THIS PLACE IS COMIN' DOWN. GET BACK OVER THE RIVER, NOW!”

There was no time to ensure that her words were heard, and heeded, as another tremor rocked the island district, a shockwave that cracked the streets below as many tiny, spider-webbing fissures opened up at an alarming rate. Lyric's mouth worked. She wondered if she could do it. She wondered if she should. But before she could make her decision, a shadow cast over her face. Turning her eyes skyward, she caught sight of a figure descending from the sky.


0kDtvqu.png

 
RAPHAEL SHAW
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Dank Hallway, Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
August, Damian, Kinsley, Kisara, Kyo, Peyton, Raph, Sab, Shinko
THICKER THAN WATER
Raph awoke with a start.

“Get your FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!!"

Thinking he was in the hands of his captors still, no doubt being carted off to undergo a fresh panel of grotesque and inhumane experiments, he kicked away from Kisara's grip with all his might, calling upon a brutal, desperate kind of strength that belied his emaciated form.

He rolled off her shoulder and landed on the hard floor with a bang and a muffled grunt. Scrabbling to his feet, he bit down viciously into the meat of his own palm until his vision blurred with the splattered red droplets that swarmed out and around him from his now-gaping flesh.

They thought they'd broken him? How fucking foolish. This was what he'd been waiting for. For them to go soft, to let down their guard. He'd been patient, he'd been compliant, and now, at long last, that day had arrived. And now a storm of blood threatened any of them to take one step closer, if they dared. He would bleed them all dry before he let them lay one more finger on him, before they jammed him full of needles, poking and prodding and—

"Ralphy! Don't be like that now, look who I brought for you!"

Raph froze where he stood, as did the bloody daggers he'd drawn forth. Slowly, his eyes traced a methodical path from one face to the next, each more surprising than the last. He didn't know if he could believe what his eyes were showing him—it seemed more likely that he was dreaming, than for this ragtag group to be standing before him now— but... Hell, did he want to.

At his wits end, and at a distinct—and rather uncharacteristic—loss for words, a bewildered Raph stood there quietly a moment before he breathed aloud at last,

“What the... What the fuck is this?!"
 
MINATO MAEDA
SCENE:
Tigers Arc 3: Scene 4 [Puzzling Directions]
LOCATION:
Little Wet Day Café, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Kiwi, Matsuda, Minato
PUZZLING DIRECTIONS
When the ground started quaking, it was mutually understood that it was every Minato for himself.

”I'm outta here!”
”I don't do earthquakes, sorry!”
”Did anybody grab the book?”
”Forget the stupid book!!!”
”Did we figure it out?”
”Nah, man, the dog did!!”
”—the DOG TALKS!?”
”Yo, Matsu! Let's bounce! This way, take your furry friend and let's go!”

While one Minato waited beside Matsuda before making his exit, the rest made their great escapes in one direction, or another, until all directions were covered. Some went for windows, back doors, more windows, and one even got stuck trying to worm his way through the A/C vents. Meanwhile, the main Minato scooted along with Matsuda as they made their way to the front door of the library, the direction from whence they'd come only a short while ago.

”I'm tellin' ya, man! Libraries. Fuckin'. SUCK, dude!” Minato made light of the situation, even as people and books toppled to the floor around them. It didn't really occur to him that he might try and help them out. That wasn't really his style.

 
MILO NAGISA
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 1 [PASSERI PARK'S ULTRA PASSIONATE MELODY ONSLAUGHT]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Pascal, Gavril, Milo, Jackson
THE HOTEL BETWIX
Milo blinked. His thoughts stalled. "... Huh?"

There was too much. Too much happening. Too much he didn't understand. He stared at his outstretched hand, fingers tensed as if they still gripped the still-living forearm of the man who'd vanished from his sight. He stared and stared, but the picture didn't change. What had just happened? What had he done?

A scream from below signaled to him that the world was moving again.

He braced himself for the inevitable plunge. For a breath Milo felt weightless, as the floor dropped out from beneath him. Only this time it wasn't a silly trapdoor to the next challenge. This wasn't part of the show. This was real. This was real. This was real.

Milo's feet jolted on the catwalk as his freefall was cut dramatically short by the intervention of... A massive octopus? He rubbed his eyes as if to clear them of this latest apparition, only he really should've been used to sights like these by now. As he stared, Milo's eyes caught the sight of movement out of his periphery. He glanced down at the metal-grated rampart and caught sight of his sketchbook, its pages flung haphzardly open to the most recent page, where the visage of the man he'd tried to save was frozen. Or... Was that—

The building lurched again and Milo scrambled to grab hold of the sketchpad mere moments before it plummeted off the edge and into the abyss below. He snatched up the book and held it up to his face. He studied it, searching for the telltale sign of what he'd thought he'd seen..!

There. Movement on the parchment. Inexplicably, this realization sparked an understanding in him. He didn't understand what had happened, or why things were the way they were, but now he knew, intrinsically, what to do.

Shimmying back to the ledge, Milo reached out as far as he could for the next nearest contestant in the milling throng of trapped citizens, held for the moment in the safety of the kraken's tentacled grip. Their eyes were wary; they'd seen what had become of the last person Milo's fingers had touched. But when the ground itself trembled again, more violently than before, their tune quickly changed.

Finally, Milo knew what he was going to do.

He was going to save them all.


 
(NPC POST) BARBADOS
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
Upper Central, CDPD; Parking Lot
PARTICIPANTS:
Boltius, Tatsuya, Ashley, Inigo, Jericho, Bandy, Callista, Eric, Gideon
TACTICAL MAYHEM
Barbados stumbled for footing when Inigo shoved him away, hands releasing his sledgehammer to seek purchase on the suffocating crystal mask, pulling it to no success.

Boo.png
Boo rushed out from her cover and caught him, “Barbs!” And the young boy remained standing where he’d already been, unmoved and seemingly unstirred by the sudden turn of advantage.

The officer’s voice was ice on Boo’s ears as he spelled out her fiance’s looming fate and offered up mercy, her grip tightening on Barbados’ leather jacket as he struggled. He dropped to a knee, and what part of his face was still visible was overtaken by a deep red.

Boo grit her teeth, frozen for only seconds, but for what felt like a dreadful eternity.

“Gru, get in the Hum,” her voice came as a surprise to even herself.

Barbados grunted his breathless disappointment and Boo jerked him around by the collar, pulling him close enough to press her forehead against his own, staring deep into his bloodshot eyes. “I WON’T LOSE YOU TO SOME PATHETIC ENACTMENT OF FUCKING PRIDE!”

“Dismissed.” The two frogs split into four and leaped past the bloodied officer. Reaching the boy, they huddled around him, tall as his waist. Then, his next command, they obeyed: “Go.”

Without further instruction, the four frogs jumped and stuck themselves to the Hummer.

“NOW, GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!” Boo slammed Barbados into the passenger-side door. “GRU, YOU’RE DRIVING!”

The boy moved, disappearing on the other side of the Hummer, out of the officer’s sight where he placed himself within the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. The engine rattled, then roared, and Boo emphatically wrestled Barbados into the back.

Before slamming the door, she turned to spare the officer a last glance. Her expression was filled with hate, but her eyes read different. Thank you.

Static hissed from her back pocket. “YO, BLITZ HERE!!.. AIN’T GOT TIME FOR QUESTIONS BUT-”

The last thing she saw was a set of eyes stamped in blackness.

Barbados, from his spot in the backseat of the Hummer, screamed but achieved no sound. His lungs begged for air, turning inside out, but he spilled out of the vehicle, purple-faced as he ripped its door from its hinges and charged in the officer’s direction, nearly tripping over Boo’s now-severed head on his way.

The masked character had come and gone, the element of surprise serving them well.

 
SEBASTIAN SE
SCENE:
New Oasis Arc 3: Scene 2 [The Dragon and the Phoenix]
LOCATION:
Central District
PARTICIPANTS:
Literally half of New Oasis
Dragons and Phoenixes and Hunks, Oh My!
Sebastian looked down at the car keys that were on the ground in front of him. His curious hyphae whip curled around the keyring, picking it up and depositing it into Sebastian's free hand. Why did Chikage give him the keys to the Jeep? For a quiet moment, Sebastian pondered this, before realizing that Chikage probably wanted him to use the car. Just like earlier that day!

"Gotcha, captain," Sebastian gave Chikage a dramatic salute, spinning Chikage's keys in a loop on a finger of his other hand. In his eyes, he had two options-- one: down the wall that had been erected and chase down the Phoenixes that fled, or two: assist Chikage and run down the people that were preparing to fight. "I'll try to help where I can. Best of luck; knock them dead, Rocchi."

But before he could choose, the ground below him suddenly turned to jelly, vibrating up and down vigorously. A rumble emanated from the ground. It was an earthquake, and not a minor one to boot. Losing his footing, Sebastian leaned back against Chikage's Jeep to steady himself. The rumbles were surprisingly short, vanishing moments after they hit. A mysterious cat-like noise made Sebastian shoot and look at the ice-cold Tiger king in confusion. Did Markus just meow like a cat?

The day was getting stranger and stranger. An earthquake with no earthquake warning. Communication was lost at the precinct. The two Kings supposedly 'not acting like themselves.' What an eventful and lively day.

The quakes wouldn't stop though. A roiling wave that splashed onto the shore over and over like the waves of a beach. Sebastian decided that he was going to simply need to push his way through the chaos and pulled himself into the driver's seat of Chikage's jeep. Sebastian was jostled up and down in his seat as the engine roared up. Chikage's jeep was excellently plush, Sebastian realized.

As Sebastian zoomed down the crumbling streets away from the fight and Isaiah's wall, he pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen and shook out several pieces of M&Ms, and popped them into his mouth. From the radio system of the vehicle, Sebastian was able to access the loudspeaker of the vehicle, which while usually were for chasing down rogue vehicles, also served well for making announcements on the street. Sebastian yelled into it, "Everyone who can hear this! Evacuate your buildings immediately! I repeat, evacu--"

But halfway through his sentence, Sebastian spontaneously stopped talking and replaced the intercom talkie back onto the car central system. The radio system wasn't loud enough to reach anybody.

The jeep skidded to a stop and drifted around so that Sebastian was facing the direction of the fight once more, and he revved the engine in anticipation. Just because the ground was quaking didn't mean that Sebastian would stop chasing down the criminals. In fact, it would be a great opportunity to level the playing field. With a whirr, Chikage's jeep began to zoom down the road, intent on running over any gangster in Sebastian's way. Just because Sebastian was an enforcer of the law didn't mean he couldn't have some fun whilst doing it. Eurobeat blasted out of the radio from the AUX, vibrating the Jeep as much as the earthquake tremors. Sebastian, rather madly, began to sing along, "Almost heaven... West Virginia..."


Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Nobody Special Nobody Special (and the rest of Phoenix and Dragon)
 
???
SCENE:
Azure Dragons Arc 3: Scene 3 [Ripples of Stardust]
LOCATION:
Zhànzhēng Resort, East District
PARTICIPANTS:
Hiram, Kazue, Ottilie, Mirza, Omar
RIPPLES OF STARDUST
Outside​

Hifumi’s eyes dragged over to Arisa then down closer to Ottilie.

He acknowledged neither the answer nor the question.

Boat​

“DAMN IT,” A fresh dent formed in response to the woman’s brief fit.

“DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT.”

“You need to leave now.”

Outside​

A few steps was all it took for Hifumi to pull awake from direct observation. His attention had been taken away by the very building the group stood just adjacent to.

The sound of fear-driven bystanders within the structure swallowed away the silence.

Boat​

“Our superior isn’t on board right now. Which means that bloody lunatic can do whatever the hell he pleases.” She was fumbling with her words, and she hastily led Mirza further. “The organization doesn’t exactly see eye to eye on everything.”

“Different people. Different emotions. Different methods.

Outside​

“It’s a cage full of scared people.” Hifumi mulled. “Both this resort, and this entire district.”

He clasped his hand into a flimsy fist.

Boat​

Mirza and the activist woman had made it to the boat’s deck, but her lead did not cease. The intent in her steps continued forth until they had breached beyond one final door at the back of the vessel.

It was here where she offered a single comment.

“I’m sorry.”

Outside​

“Whether they kill each other or not, the events of today will serve to open the eyes of those who turn away from the truth.”

The words were spoken away from the group but, soon enough, he turned back to his peers.

Boat​

There was little of note inside the ship’s foremost cabin, save for the single thing sprawled across the floor. Motionless, but distinctly human—though it lacked hair, a face, and any other physical trait.

It wasn’t the product of injury. Rather the impression that the features have been smoothed off altogether.

There wouldn’t have been a reasonable way to identify the individual if Mirza didn’t already know.

After all, the clothes were not easy to forget.

Especially since he had arrived with the one who had worn them.

Outside​

Not many would’ve seen the blow coming, but especially not Hiram.

A single strike with enough force to send them spinning to the ground, and the perpetrator none other than the very Hifumi who had carefully positioned themselves at their side.

“WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT WE’D SPEND ALL THIS TIME PLANNING HOW TO MAKE THE DRAGONS MISSTEP. WHEN YOU’D ALL GO AND DO IT YOURSELVES?”
NAVIGATE
 
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Kisara
SCENE:
Serpents Arc 3: Scene 1 [Thicker Than Water]
LOCATION:
Mysterious Black Site, North District
PARTICIPANTS:
Damian, August, Kinsley, Kisara, Kyoden, Peyton, Raphael, Sabrina, Shinko
THICKER THAN WATER

She tripped, stumbled, and collapsed to her knees and hands as Raph freed himself from her grasp. The world seemed to strike her hard as she did. The glow in her body flickered, and dimmed, the energy in her limbs seeping away, as if it were being drained by the ground she fell upon. It was now a great struggle to even keep her eyes open, and to keep them from shutting forever every time she blinked.

She shuffled around, and fell to a seating position, her head hanging limply on her neck, a small curl of a smile appearing on her face, a ghost of her toothy grin just barely present on her soot-blackened features. At the sound of his voice, the bright, optimistic light that once graced her anger-filled eyes began to return. “Hey, Raph. Sorry we couldn’t bring a nice car around. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? An open maroon convertible? That'd fit yer look just nicely, I think~” She threw her head back, and gave a tittering laugh, like glass bells in the wind. “Sorry…” she breathed in deep, trying to take in as much air as she could, “sorry we– I was so late. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have…I could…

Her voice trailed away into silence. The light in her armored limbs darkened. Her closed eyes faced skywards. She had gotten him this far, and that was all she could do. She just needed a little rest. She just needed to take a little nap.




 
Inigo Han
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 2 [Tactical Mayhem]
LOCATION:
CDPD-HQ, Upper Central
PARTICIPANTS:
Ashley, Boltius, Eric, Gideon, Inigo, Roza, Tatsuya
TACTICAL MAYHEM
NO!” Inigo’s hand reached out, as if he could have done something. It was almost like time had slowed itself in his eyes as the woman’s head fell from her shoulders. Who?! Who did that?! That was HIS hunt! That was HIS rightful kill! They were HIS, Gods damn it, to let flee, to let run! Bile and a strangled scream of rage rose in his throat. How DARE they?! Cowards! Killing them was one thing, killing them while their backs were turned was another. He had a code. No one was allowed to break it.

In Barbados’ purpling face, he could see the rage of loss, of sorrow. To have hope and happiness wrest from him like this, this was cruel, even for a man like Inigo himself. “하늘에 계신 우리 아버지,” he muttered quietly in his native language as he summoned the rest of his strength to straighten up. He stretched out his hand towards the rushing man, and waved his hand. Holes appeared upon the Phoenix’s nose and mouth, clearing the passage for his breath to return.

And then he swung his fist, catching the Phoenix across the face, sending him crashing to the ground. Every inch of his body ached, but still, he forced himself to stand. “Get up,” he ordered. “Get up and get out. Bring…bring her with you,” he waved towards the woman’s body. Damn it. Damn it all. What the fuck was going on here? More enemies? More gangsters? What remained of his blood within his body boiled. “On my honor, I swear this was not my doing. You have my sympathy, and my anger. Trust me!” His hand closed around the man’s collar, picked him up, and hurled him back towards the vehicle. He clenched his fists. He still had one more in him. Jagged blades formed upon his arms, their construction less perfect than they had been, their edges cracked and bitten, but they can still do their job. “I will cover you. Go! Now!






Interacting with: Doctor Llamabean Doctor Llamabean

Roda the Red Roda the Red Nobody Special Nobody Special Lucem Lucem Coyote Hart Coyote Hart
 
Zachariah C. Locke
SCENE:
Phoenixes Arc 3: Scene 3 [Whole World Blind]
LOCATION:
Luck Rabbit Casino, West District
PARTICIPANTS:
Charlie, Hector, Hide, Raquel, Yukito, Zachariah, Mizuya
Alicia, Dante
Whole World Blind

Wandering the ground floor of the Lucky Rabbit Casino Building, a certain pink haired, sunglasses-wearing casino Valet watched the exciting battles of his comrades (via his potential) while secretly planting remote-activated explosives here and there. What’s a raid without a bit of bombing? Besides, with the way things were shaping up, his fellow Birdies would need a bit of distraction if they wanted to safely escape. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice him as they were too busy dealing with the sudden quake that rocked New Oasis. Things fell. People screamed. Guests ducked for cover. As for the staff, they either ran around like headless chickens trying to get things organized, or focused on their own safety, depending on their inclination.

Only someone like Zach was inclined to pick up loose change and chips (while leaving little presents) amidst the chaos.

Exiting the cashier’s cage with a large garbage bag over his shoulder, sleeping casino cashiers and broken cameras behind him, Zach whistled as he went out the employee exit to dump the “trash” in their escape vehicle. Along the way, he encountered an overly curious security guard and, after a brief altercation, acquired a radio as well.

“10-4, Deryn. I’m on my way~”

First floor.

Seventh floor.

Ninth floor.

His Gods’ Eye gave him an overhead view of all three, though it wasn’t as if he could be in three places at once. The time to leave was nigh. Therefore, Zach figured he ought to help the team member that seemed to be alone and struggling the most. The numbers weren’t looking good on Hide’s end. Any end, to be honest, but the Queen had Pluto and Temperer on his side so they’d probably be okay, regardless of whether they managed to acquire the main target or not. As for Raquel, she was a tough cookie.

Zach pressed a hand to his earpiece. “Hawk is in the building. Let me know if anyone needs me anywhere.”

Otherwise, he’d just do his own thing.

After a brief moment of indecision, Zach opted to do the smart thing and take the stairs. As much fun as riding a deathtrap would be, he couldn’t risk the elevator shutting down when family needed him. Why trust potentially failing technology when you’ve got good ol’ HP legs? Besides, if anything, he ought to be shutting down the elevators so security couldn’t easily reach them. That in mind, Zach took little pit stops in the circuit breaker rooms of each floor along the way. Every floor.



Roda the Red Roda the Red WhiskeyMarten WhiskeyMarten Caffeine_Obsessed Caffeine_Obsessed @Misuteeku AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa @The Regal Rper @weatheringwings
 
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