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[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/7LiimvF.jpg]

[font roman [size12 Los Angeles, the city of opportunity and glamour, corruption and treachery, glitter, and gore. The entire city reeked of sociopathy and self-importance, but that was completely perfect for a slimeball like B.B.

His entire life consisted of bouncing between two sides, playing both fields, and then dipping when things went wrong. Born and raised on the streets, a simple person could tell just by looking at his smirk-ridden face. B.B never changed his ways and nobody could ever change that, not even some of the most feared and influential people in L.A. He laughed in the faces of danger, smirked at terror, laughed at authority, and spat at reason. There wasn't an ounce of compassion within his cold soul nor consideration for others, the only person who B.B ever listened to had passed long ago, and now all bets were off. The fuse had been lit and the cannon was about to blow.

Now, despite his rather hedonistic views on crime life and common thug representation, B.B had been involved with both the Yakuza and Russian Mafia for a few months now, acting as a hitman for both without any reason other than for the money. He never had an interest in setting both gangs up against each other, that would just give him more heat, and besides, there was nothing personal between the two with his feelings, B.B really didn't care either way. He had done this rodeo multiples times before with drug cartels in the city and street gangs in the hoods, and they were all left non-the-wiser. B.B's pockets were getting fatter every single day and there was never any problem, targetting the two mafias was just another job opportunity for him and cakewalk at that.

He stood on the sidewalk outside a small liquor shop with a freshly rolled joint hanging loosely from his lips, bruised hands wrapped in bandages stuck firmly in his pockets. His lips were pulled into an almost cattish smirk as a man dressed in all black approached from the shadows of the city. He said nothing, his face shadowed by the wide brim of his hat, and handed B.B a small note that only showed a few words written in neat kanji. He took the note with no complaint, merely a smirk, and playfully squinted eyes as the man then walked away. It would've been a strange sight and fortunately a strange experience for one who wasn't immersed in this lifestyle, but this was a regular occurrence for B.B.

[i Another job. Another Day. Another dollar. Another cheque to be cashed in to the bank.] [i Say no more,] B.B was already on his way to finishing the job with his imagination filled with all the possibilities for murdering this poor fellow the Yakuza wanted to snuff out.
  AbsoslutVodka / 1d 3h 32m 3s
Some draft dialogue between Zeus and Hades for Godless Beginnings.

[center [font roman [size12 "Just roofie her drink or something! Come on, Hades. You're, like, the King of the Underworld. It'd be an honor to wake up in your car en suite to your fucking amazing ass apartment." Zeus

"Are you seriously suggesting I date-rape someone? Not to mention, Demeter's daughter?! You know that woman hates us, right?" Hades

"Hates me, you mean? You go on, like, one date with the overlord of the seasons and suddenly you've created a harem. Hera was not happy, heh." Zeus

"That's kinda creepy." Hades

"Look, I'm not saying fuck her brains out whilst she rides the dreamboat, I'm just saying take her away to your apartment and then let her wake up! You know, give her the old hangover treatment." Zeus

"If we were mortals I think that'd make me eligible for execution. Also. Ew?! That's creepy as hell, man."

"Fine then. Be boring and whoo her like the gloomy weirdo you are. I don't even see the point, you know Minthe isn't gonna be happy about this, right? Hah! You really are my big bro." Hades

"It's not like that! Nothing like you and that Thetis. I just, I dunno, wanna talk to her. She has nice... skin?" Hades

"Okay? That's not weird at all. You know, if you want some advice on how to successfully fuck girls that aren't your girlfriend, you've got to the right man." Zeus
  AbsoslutVodka / 6d 4h 24m 35s
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[font roman [size12 She gave her text one last look before letting out a rather solemn sigh. Gosh, this was never going to work out, but Yen constantly ignored that voice in her head and listened to the one that told her the complete opposite. They were about as co-dependent on each other as anglerfish and that hurt, a lot, but fuck that noise. Work was the only time Yen could think about everything and anything but Minnie without guilt, and that wasn't about to be ruined by another day of second-guessing and realization.

As soon as Yen had prepped herself up all nice and pretty for another day of stripping off for complete strangers, Yen had hopped into her taxi and was on her way to work. Her phone buzzed from the text from Minnie and Yen was tempted to just ignore it, but her eyes glanced at the screen. Get off early? Yen thoughtfully nibbled on her lips but furrowed her brows at the small request. She didn't bother replying, leaving her silence to be the affirmation for Minnie, but it wasn't like Yen wanted to get off early. Being away was, well, nice. Great, the more Yen thought about the relationship, the more fucked up things seemed.

It wasn't long until Yen had arrived at the club and had made her way inside to the backroom. She plopped all her brought belongings onto a chair stationed near the makeup mirror and began prepping herself for the day until her manager walked in. An exotic and very camp-looking man, even Yen got confused on the best of days. She swore his voice was higher than hers sometimes. [b "Fucking late again. I can't believe this! What the fuck are we paying you for, bitch? You be fucking with, what's her name, Minnie again?"] He asked, his voice no-less sassy and accented than usual. Yen just quietly groaned, leaning back into her chair as she fixed her outfit. [#D8BFD8 [b "Whatever, Alexei. I got up late again, those sleeping pills Max gave me are fucking killer. Is he here, by the way? He said he had something for me."]] Yen chose to ignore his vulgar question and went straight to business, which Alexei just huffed at before preening his own nails. [b "Oh, that boy? He's upstairs probably getting high, again. Why? You looking to catch some dick again?"] Fuck, Alexei with these goddamn questions! It was like a rock that had been smashed into her stomach, Yen almost jolted at the piercing question. [b [#D8BFD8 "That was a one-time thing, Alexei! Fuck, you're not supposed to bring that shit up."]] Yen argued back. [b "Whatever. It's not like Minnie is here anyway. Uh, just go see your little toy-boy and get back here in five. Early finish if you make four-hundred dollars in three hours, hun."] Whatever.

Yen waited for Alexei to finally leave before sneering and swearing beneath her breath, casting him out in her head and vilifying him as much as her brain would allow. She loved him, really, but Alexei had no filter and didn't particularly care about the consequences. There was no changing nor arguing with him, Yen just learnt to let it all pass. Still, that was uncalled for, what the fuck. She made her way upstairs and pushed through the door to greet a passed-out man, no doubt Max, on the bed surrounded by poppers. For fucks sake, again. The room was practically his apartment attached to the club, one that Yen had guiltily been inside many times, but having to wade through empty bags of kush and drugs every day was getting fucking annoying. No way was Yen about to wake him up despite him asking for her earlier on. Her eyes flittered over to the drawers that he had motioned to the last time they were together, the thing that contained the item Max wanted her to have.

If it was practically hers, to begin with, surely Max wouldn't mind her taking it now. She pulled open the drawer to see a small pistol roll forward. Alright, now that's strange. Max had an array of weapons, dealing in the drug business and all, but never gave them away that easily, and why would he gift her one? She picked up the gun and examined it, mixed feelings meddling with her thoughts, confusion, and excitement but also fear and anxiety too. This wasn't for... Did Max know... No, that was stupid. She slid the gun into the strap of her pants before leaving to finally get ready for her first dance, but the gun never left her thoughts.

The day was fairly short given that Yen had hit her goal in the first few hours, and Alexei was in a fairly good mood despite earlier. Yen had rushed herself to get ready, trying her best to avoid Max and any mention of him just to leave and find Minnie. It was strange, Yen always ran to Minnie during times of distress like this, but then to Max straight afterwards. She needed her now, but knew that later...

No, don’t think about that, not right now. By the text message that appeared on her phone as she entered the taxi just confirmed that thinking about that stuff was just destructive at this point. God, Minnie had something planned for her, Yen already knew. She hated her for making her feel guilty, planning these romantic events whilst Yen fucked someone else. How could Yen reciprocate? She somehow blamed Minnie for making her this way, but that was all wrong. She kept the gun in the bottom of her purse, not wanting to abandon it at the club for Max to get pissed off lately, but kept it at the very back of her mind to avoid thinking about it too much. Maybe it was just for protection, the city was pretty harsh nowadays.

As the taxi neared home, the guilt deep inside Yen was slowly boiling into a deep-seated anger. That was how her guilt worked most of the time, it always found a way to turn into pure rage or depression, never a moment to sit back and think about her actions and atone for anything. She left the taxi as soon as she was at the apartment and made her way to her room, aware of what was to come but ignorant to the pure romance radiating from the room. She opened the door to be greeted by a path of petals and sadly looked down, casting an upset glare to the floor as a pit formed in her stomach. The warm and beautiful smell just made her want to vomit with sin and dread, and the candles in the room only succeeded in lighting up the guilty expression on her face. Fuck, this was it, the anger was coming. She followed the petals to the bedroom, and at the sight of Minnie, threw her purse to the floor and stared daggers at her. [#D8BFD8 [b “What the fuck are you doing? Minnie, no. I can’t, not right now. Are you kidding me?”]] She acted as if Minnie had something wrong, as if this was all some messed up crime. But Yen was just projecting her feelings onto her, nothing was her fault. She stepped over her purse and roughly sat on the bed, face in the palm of her hands. [#D8BFD8 [b “Min, I’m just tired, okay? Fuck.”]] She did indeed sound quite exhausted, but there was something more, something she was keeping to herself.
  | Yen | / AbsoslutVodka / 7d 1h 30m 59s
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[size12 [font roman It didn't take long for him to finish his cigarette at all, and Conri was more interested in investigating the murder scene than engaging in simple pleasures anyway. He re-entered the building and approached another detective, one who was talking with the supposed bartender who appeared to be a little taken aback by the man's slight casualness to the situation. Noting this, Conri just excused him and took his place to question the bartender further, but his dark eyes didn't meet the man's own as they concentrated firmly on the notepad in his hands.

[b "Excuse my partner there. He's only good for paperwork. I'm just going to assume you weren't a witness then? Shame."] He lightly chuckled at his own sarcasm, noting down on his notepad. Though, as Conri finally looked up to completely engage with the man, his own eyes widened and a look of mild shock and confusion took over his features and overall stoicism. He couldn't put a single finger on why, but the man just made him do a complete doubletake as if there was something both off and entirely intriguing about him. No, that couldn't be. A strange feeling of familiarity washed over his entire body, but the cold tinge of uncertainty stabbed his gut like no other. Conri had felt emotions like this before, but this was also somehow very different. It all had to mean something, right? But there was no saying what.

Conri just futilely shook away his thoughts, regaining his thoughts and trying to stabilize his features into a simple half-smile. [b "I'm, uh, afraid you'll have to vacate the premises. For the purpose of physical security and protection of future testimony, and also for further investigation."] Conri explained, his words professional but his mannerisms fidgety an awkward, his voice low and almost nervous too. He was trying to make sense of his emotions, but they were practically all over the place, Conri just couldn't pin them down.
  | Wolf | / Sayonara / 19d 2h 17m 23s
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[font roman [size12 Eliza was fairly sucked into her book, barely noticing the [i person] in front of her until words were spoken. Her eyes looked away from her book first before her brain could even register the fact that someone was talking to her. A small smile crept up on her face at the sight of him, and Eliza lowered the book beside her. She seemed pretty pleased that someone was actually talking to her, for the city of Cogton was a pretty lonely one. [b [#F7819F "Yes. Yes, it's quite, well, it's something. The author sure has an interesting way with words, I suppose. A whole load of inconceivable nonsense about [i supernatural] forces in this world and other ridiculous things, but interesting none the less."]] She said with a warm smile, a smile that clearly showed she was ignorant to the animosity deep inside the man speaking to her. After that, Eliza was quiet, but the slight tension in the air between them prompted her to continue. [b [#F7819F "Are you much of are a reader then? I'm more of a romantic than a philosopher, but Leslie Ann's books are always a treat."]] She slightly giggled whilst patting the book beside her.

She noted his odd appearance slightly, a little [i eccentric] and [i different] compared to a few of the residents of Cogton, but many of those who lived within the slums looked similar to him. They were all quite, well, unusual, in a way that something seemed almost inhuman about them, but that couldn't be. Eliza wasn't too aware of the magical creatures that inhabited the world. A few history books spoke of them, but only has myths and legends, and half of them weren't even that good or noteworthy. She tried to ignore his appearance, at least look through it, and concentrated on [i him] rather than what he was.
  | Eliza | / Sayonara / 26d 3h 34m 24s
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[font roman [size12 Shiro weighed a small pistol in her hand as a Yakuza member sat on the bed in their hotel room pondered on a few thoughts. It had become a usual routine to sleep with a member and then threaten them with imprisonment if they refused to pay up, not that Shiro was a prostitute or anything. She had grown cocky after successfully imprisoning her previous boyfriend and had decided to pull the same shtick with a few other weak members but was more than careful with who she chose. It was only ever the lower ranks or the freshies that Shiro targeted, and they never turned her down. After all, death was usual and almost expected in a gang environment, having a young woman wave a gun around threatening you with both death and imprisonment was no different than the law bullying you into submission. Your death and disappearance would just be written off as a simple gang dispute if word ever got out. It simply wasn't worth the risk if you valued your life.

Shiro smirked at the man, still weighing the pistol in her hand with a menacing glint in her eye. She spoke in fluent Japanese with the man. [b [#E8C6FF "So, are we going to pay up or would you rather spend the rest of your days rotting in a cell with the rest of them? Not that anyone would care."]] She sadistically giggled as the man ran his face through his hands, sighing almost defeatedly before rummaging through his pockets. [b [#E8C6FF "And no funny business. Oyabun won't be very pleased if I go missing."]] She continued, continuing to smirk. Her close relationship with the Yakuza boss allowed her free passage most of the time. Nobody dared mess with her, which was why nobody bothered to go against her during times like these.

The Yakuza member finally slapped a few couple hundred in the palm of her outstretched hand, and with a satisfied smile, Shiro placed the gun on the bedside table and used that free hand to softly caress his cheek, staring straight into his deep brown eyes with her own steel blue. [b [#E8C6FF "Now that's a good boy. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about tonight."]] She whispered in seduction before grabbing her gun and leaving the man inside the hotel room alone, the money stuffed into her jacket pocket.

A night that would be repeated many times over. Shiro was a few hundred richer and nobody was none the wiser. If that Yakuza member even squeaked a little bit, Shiro would care of it before anyone even noticed. She leaned against the brick wall of the hotel, smirking to herself as the cold night again blew over her face. Now, what to spend the money on, was the question. Though, Shiro was supposed the bossman would want to see her again soon. She was climbing up the ranks more and more every day, one wouldn't even think that a few years ago Shiro was a simple university student, but perhaps Shiro was always this way.
  | Fire | / Sayonara / 26d 4h 13m 47s
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[size12 [font roman Whilst waiting for her friend to arrive, Andy surfed through her phone, but looked up just in time to see someone almost faceplant straight into a puddle a few blocks away. It mostly only garnered a small chuckle from her, but his board almost looked magnetic. It was actually quite strange, Andy just tried to ignore that feeling though. She did a quick scope of her surroundings to see if anyone else had noticed, but nobody seemed to care. It almost as if the accident was too far away for anyone else to notice, which was actually true, but somehow Andy noticed.

She again just ignored that sentiment and only lit up when a message popped up on her phone reading. [b 'srry, gonna be late! u can hang out with my other friends tho. missing u already!'] Andy just tutted with minor annoyance. Typical Chloe. She always late, her apologies was always meaningless to Andy, but there was never any grudge held or dislike aimed towards her, Andy just learned to love that little feature of Chloe's. But hang out with her other friends? Andy wasn't exactly a 'people' person despite her hedonism. She just grumbled at the thought and leaned back into the bike racks.

As she pondered on a few thoughts, Andy barely noticed two other students approaching the bike racks as well. Usually, she didn't really bother greeting other people, but with Chloe late, leaving her alone, Andy just bit the bullet. Besides, one of them was totally the kid who almost ate shit in a puddle, might as well strike up a conversation. She turned her body over a little to halfway face them. [b "Hey."] She began in a dull, casual tone. [b "Totally didn't see you almost eat shit earlier. Don't worry. Secret's safe with me."] She joked with a small chuckle, aimed towards Caspian as she gave his friend a small smile in acknowledgment.
  | Andy | / Sayonara / 27d 3h 28m 19s
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[font roman [size12 Murder was such a peculiar thing in today's time. Such a primal act that's been around for centuries, and yet, one that many fear. It was once a usual thing, even something that many would anticipate, but as the years went on and the world became tamed, the less death and murder would become a regular occurrence. Shame, really. Floribeth would've thrived during those times for senseless murder was her specialty; a little thrill-seeker who enjoyed snuffing out the lives of innocents and sinful people alike.

There was no ulterior motive. She didn't want to cleanse the world nor solve problems. She didn't care about equality or dominating her victims. She killed for the thrill. Now, the chase was the best bit, but tedious if they were frantic. She much preferred stalking them over a period of time before striking, but always wanted them to be aware of the situation, just not aware of her. It was quite sickening, really, but surely killing was even worse.

Her first kill was at the young age of twelve when a school bully just went too far. Luring them into the classroom was easy enough, sliding a box cutter across their throat, and watching their thick blood spurt from the open wound with each heartbeat was somehow even easier. Floribeth didn't get away with the murder and the severity of the crime was too high, but with her young age and seemingly remorseful response, after a two-year sentence and following a psychological evaluation, no additional sentence was sought and Floribeth was off the hook.

She never sought after forgiveness nor redemption, Floribeth felt nothing but happiness and relief at the murder, and the euphoric bliss and the feeling of being alive after such an act was something that she craved almost every day. And the attention from the media and outsmarting the law was just too much fun and way too satisfying to just let go and ignore. This was her life now, one that centered around taking others just because she could.

She kept every victim's name in a small journal, one that was purposefully telling just to rile up the law and the victim's families even more. She kept weapons on hand to torture and maim before murdering them, only went the extra mile a few times, and would always dig a shallow grave nearby to bury the body. If a lake was close, Floribeth would dump them there. She recalled dumping a dismembered corpse onto a pig farm once, though.

Her victims weren't anyone special, Floribeth would sometimes befriend them over the course of a few weeks and then strike and other times they were random and sporadic. She would even disguise herself as a prostitute to lure a few Johns into one of the motels nearby and murder them there, an extremely common tactic to use.

Tonight was another night of planned murder, though, Floribeth had no victim just yet but just knew that somebody had to die for her to get her high. She stood in town at a small restaurant, leaning against the wall with a handheld mirror in hand, checking out her makeup and wiping away any flaws that damaged her appearance. She decided that tonight the 'prostitute' approach would get quicker results, but anyone that was seemingly dumb enough to approach her would do the trick, really.
  Sayonara / 27d 5h 55m 29s
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[font roman [size12 The apology slightly softened Akiho's feature, albeit hardly noticeable. Banta on the other side smiled and then shrugged his shoulders at the young man's response. [b "No harm done, right? My pal here is just, well, you know."] He said with an eye roll that was caught on by Akiho with a loud, dismissive tut. She kept herself face front, averting the other's gaze as if both too prideful and in shame to the situation. Banta was preoccupied with clipping the mount back onto their caravan and sorting things out as the other was given, which was noticed by Akiho with a raise of her 'brow.

She curiously turned her head slightly to side-eye the young man but would look away at even the hint of eye contact. Banta, still busy with the caravan, answered him casually. [b "You serious? Hah. Three more days on that dusty old road with that lunatic there and I think I'd go crazy. "] To Banta, shelter sounded wonderful, after all, a week of sleeping in the filthy old caravan with an uppity brat nagging in your ear couldn't do much good for your mental health. Akiho snapped her head to stare saucers at Banta in disbelief, holding her hands out. [b [#f05c64 "What?! No, no. Banta!"]] She objected, almost desperately. Yes, shelter sounded perfect, but they didn't know these people, first impressions were terrible, her identity as a Fire National was on the line, and Akiho was already overwhelmed with the guilt of yelling at them. But, as per usual, Banta just ignored her and pushed her aside. [b "Don't mind her, that's just, uh, merchant speak for [i Yes, please!] She'll get over herself, eventually."] He snarked with a small giggle, as Akiho loudly huffed in annoyance.

Akiho was still bubbling with leftover rage from earlier, but that was mostly overridden with shame now from her outburst. She was prideful as a lion and stubborn as a damn mule, nobody could ever force an apology out of her mouth, but one definitely weighed in her mind. She still hated that little brat, but this young man had, truthfully, nothing to do with the situation.
  | Water | / Sayonara / 29d 5h 6m 50s
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[font roman [size12 The night after a kill was always satisfying and surprisingly restful. The adrenaline that pumped viscerally through his body soon wore off with time and the sweat that coated his face dried into nothing. The once warm and thick blood that coated his coat had cooled and dried into a sickly dark brown, and the stench of death lingered in the air.

Another night, another body, another mess to clean. Cole had gone through this process many times before, having been a cold-blooded killer for almost four years and counting, but that never made this easy. Each day, as the media and news outlets slowly hurled him into a corner, Cole had to be more and more precise with disposing of the bodies and the evidence combined. A few years ago, a simple bath filled with lye, bleach, or acid would've done the trick and destroyed practically everything about the victim, but now Cole had to rush things, much to his chagrin. He was a serial killer, but not a professional, all that was quite apparent in the caved-in faces of the corpses of his victims.

His victim for tonight was a prostitute, a nobody no one in this town would remember. It was the usual schtick, trick them into service, and bring them to a shady and densely populated motel. Have a little fun and gain some pleasure, and then business as usual, snuff out their sorry little lives and bathe in the tranquil bliss that washed over after the struggle. He was in the middle of dragging the body towards the trash behind the motel, covered by the darkness and shadows cast by the wheelie bins. He was slightly sloppy with the evidence, but as long as nothing damning was left behind and the weapon was disposed of, then all was fine.

After careless kicking the body into a small ditch at the bottom of the tiny hill the motel was built near, Cole reached into his pockets and grabbed a packet of half-empty cigarettes, dragging one out with his teeth. Perhaps standing near the crime scene wasn't quite smart, being covered in dried blood and breathing heavily from the lost adrenaline, but in the dead of night, at a motel in the middle of nowhere, it wasn't like anyone was around to condemn him or anything.

He lit the cigarette and let the narcotic smoke invade his precious lungs, a sense of both release and control wafting into his head, releasing whatever tension was inside him through an exhale of the smoke past his chapped lips, brazen with his own blood consequence of biting his lip during the act of murdering his victim. He rested his head against the brick wall and let out a small sigh, the only sound in the air beside a few distant crickets and cars completely oblivious to the horrific crime that had just recently taken place. Now was the time to unwind and relax, relish in the aftermath. After all, this was the only moment Cole felt truly alive until the next kill, and that one would be very, very soon. But for now, rest. It's what God would've wanted, right?
  | Cole | / Sayonara / 29d 5h 25m 26s
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[font roman [size12 How many months had they been together now? Yennefer couldn't even remember. Once they had marked the days off on the calendar, but after an explosive argument that almost ended the already damaged relationship, Yen had ripped the calendar straight from the wall. That did them no favors, just caused more harm than good, but that was Yen's intentions at the time. She didn't take much pleasure in emotionally hurting Minnie, but sometimes, that was the only time where Yen could get away for a bit and spend time alone. But, no matter how much Yen cherished the silence and empty space of being 'single', the nights ended in her rushing straight back to Minnie to start the cycle all over again. As preparation for more fights, though, Yen had rented out an apartment in the next building beside their complex in secret and regularly retreated there after work to spend some time alone.

Yennefer truly did care for Minnie, but that care had dwindled over the few months they had been together, Yennefer's care was comparable to that of a very close friend, a toxic close friend at that. She constantly thought about ending things, had even tried to bring up the topic a few times, but her voice would get stuck in her throat and the words would cease to pass. [#D8BFD8 [i [b "I'm thinking of ending things."]]] She wished her voice would allow her to say, maybe then they could fix what had been broken, but then again, Yennefer doubted Minnie even agreed with her. She sometimes hoped that her line of work would drive her away, working as an exotic dancer every night couldn't do much favor for your significant other, but Minnie never struck her as the type to care.

Today was just another day of many, Yen had planted herself in front of the mirror, applying makeup as the day ahead weighed heavily in her mind. She glanced over at the ruffled bedsheets on her bed and let a small sigh blow past her lips. Those bedsheets looked the exact same every morning, a sense of deja vu washed over Yen with each glance, but nothing particular would come to mind. And then with that, in the near distance, a constant bang would go off, a similar to one of a gunshot. With the neighborhood they lived in, in the city, a gunshot or two wasn't too unusual, unfortunately, but still. It was unusual, worrisome even.

She just tried to shake that thought off, there was no point in fretting over nothing. As her lipstick would smear across her smooth lips, her phone would buzz and light up. Her eyes glanced over, the same buzz each morning at the exact same time. She could still never guess who was messaging her, though, prompting her to reach over and grab her phone off the bedside table. A text message would present itself across her screen.

[b > where the hell r u bitch? ur late again! u better not come up with some weird excuse like last time. hurry up!] Fuck! She was late for work again. Seriously?! She began to rush herself, hastily finish off her makeup, and grabbed a few of her clothes. Damn! She couldn't be late, not again. She flipped out her phone and began texting Minnie. [#D8BFD8 [b > hey baby! u up? i'm late for work again. won't be long. see you tonight yeah?]] Before hitting send and rearing herself to finally leave.
  Sayonara / 7d 7h 9m 43s
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/TrUN4Tr.jpg]

[b A draft post for Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking.]

[font roman [size12 Murder was such a peculiar thing in today's time. Such a primal act that's been around for centuries, and yet, one that many fear. It was once a usual thing, even something that many would anticipate, but as the years went on and the world became tamed, the less death and murder become a regular occurrence. Shame, really. Floribeth would've thrived during those times for senseless murder was her speciality; a little thrill-seeker who enjoyed snuffing out the lives of innocents and sinful people alike.

There was no ulterior motive. She didn't want to cleanse the world nor solve problems. She didn't care about equality or dominating her victims. She killed for the thrill. Now, the chase was the best bit, but tedious if they were frantic. She much preferred stalking them over a period of time before striking, but always wanted them to be aware of the situation, just not aware of her. It was quite sickening, really, but surely killing was even worse.

Her first kill was at the young age of twelve when a school bully just went too far. Luring them into the classroom was easy enough, sliding a box cutter across their throat and watching their thick blood spurt from the open wound with each heartbeat was somehow even easier. Floribeth didn't get away with the murder and the severity of the crime was too high, but with her young age and seemingly remorseful response, but after a two-year sentence and following a psychological evaluation, no additional sentence was sought and Floribeth was off the hook.
  | Eliza | / Sayonara / 27d 6h 24m 18s
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[font roman [size12 How foolish! In no way did Poallu see what was obviously next to come. An act of attempted heroism and peacekeeping now completely turned against her, all Poallu was in the eyes of the Dai Li agents now was a very poorly thought out criminal. Her mother had always said her naivety would be her downfall one day if things didn't change, seems that prophecy was true.

She could only helplessly watch as Zheng was handcuffed, and as soon one of the agents approached her and coldly stared into her eyes, Poallu just looked forlorn and afraid. She struggling slightly at her own hands being cuffed in stone. [b [#7092f5 "What?! No, no. I was just trying to hel-"]] Her voice tripped from the shock of being kicked and forced to kneel, and Poallu just shook her head in disbelief. She looked up at the man being arrested alongside her and just looked down in full shame. No way, Poallu couldn't face him. She was the reason this was all happening, the reason why his friends had abandoned him to be arrested and taken away alongside her. This was all her fault and nothing would change that in her mind, nothing could be done to fix their situation now.

She just wanted to help, calm everything down, and keep the peace, at least prevent a full-blown fight, and now look where that got her. Granted, her choice of [i peacekeeping] wasn't the smartest in the world, but points for trying, right? All Poallu ever wanted was peace, that was all the whole point of her mission. Great, now her journey to the North Pole ended her, being dragged away by some agents of a nation that wasn't even hers, and into the back of a jailor's wagon with the man she had completely screwed over.

She had situated herself into a small corner, trying to huddle herself away in shame and self-pity, but Poallu had soon given up on that act as a hefty sigh blew straight past her lips. She had never been arrested in her life, never thought that would even be a problem, and now look. Oh, how the South Pole would be [i proud.] Poallu mostly kept her eyes away from Zheng, avoiding eye-contact, but listened to him. She just regretfully sighed again. [b [#7092f5 "I know, but. I couldn't just leave. It just felt wrong. I mean..."]] She struggled to find the words to justify herself. She leaned back into the wall. [b [#7092f5 "Of course I don't."] She then just quietly said, her thoughts filled with nothing but the future beratings of her people if they ever found out about this, and what was next to come. This wasn't even her city, arrested in a place she barely understood. As he introduced himself, Poallu calm down slightly, a bit of familiarity always helped after all, especially if you were being arrested together. [b [#7092f5 "Poallu, I-"] She answered back, on the verge of apologizing before the guard yelled at them from above. It was enough to keep her quiet until Zheng spoke again.

A plan of escape. It was all they had, but Poallu didn't want to take risks anymore. She already took one and look where that ended up. But, being taken away to a place where surely nothing good would happen, an escape plan was exactly what they needed. She nodded in agreement, but her eyes betrayed her, filled with doubt and anxiety. She leaned in close so they could whisper quietly amongst themselves, avoid the prying ear of the guard above. [b [#7092f5 "How? I, I don't know anything about this place. I don't want to get us in any more trouble, Zheng. I've caused enough."]] She sighed. She had no clue what punishment awaited for them but could take a wild guess. But, she knew they had to escape somehow, and it was the least she could for him. Working together was all they really had.
  | Fire | / Sayonara / 38d 4h 55m 59s
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[font roman [size12 Magic was always a funny thing, an ever-present force of nature that was just as fragile as a leaf in the Autumn winds. It once ruled the world, a few hundred years ago, magical creatures were the ultimate species. Nothing bothered them, they were just as mighty as magic itself, and humans were non-the-wiser. For the thousands of years that magic was strong and powerful, magical creatures were on top of the food chain, were the epitome of strength and mystic, until humans became smart and realized, in their own way, they were stronger.

A few magical creatures were peaceful, even more were violent, and they actively preyed upon humans, but to them, this was only natural, how the world simply worked. To combat the problem, the 'Spirit Hunters' were formed, a group of trained humans in the art of all things supernatural and dangerous, who would hunt down magical creatures who threatened humans and their safety, even some who were peaceful. The Spirit-Hunters were often seen as honorable and admirable, but soon they escalated and targeted all magical creatures they could find, forcing some into hiding and even endangering a few and killing others into extinction. A magical creature who could pose as a human and act like one had the highest survival rate, and even then, whilst they looked like a human, they could never truly adjust to the new world forming around them.

As the trees were replaced with skyscrapers, the hills carved out and filled in with homes of brick and cement, and meadows replaced with cities and towns, magic became less and less present, to the point where not even a witch could cast a simple spell. Magical creatures tried their best to maintain as much magic as they could, but, as technology began to develop and magic dwindled, magical creatures became weak and forlorn, left alone in a world they no longer understood, a world that was stolen from them by humans. The 19th century marked the end of the era of magic, right in the center of the city of Cogton where technology crushed magic itself into a fine dust of nothing.

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Cogton, once a beautiful meadow and lush forest of green, a safe haven for those who possessed and were born with magic, now a steel forest of metal and rust, roads of dirt marked with the footprints of many travelers, now roads of steel that held beasts of iron that breathed hot smoke.The Capital of the technology-ridden world, the streets filled with more steampunk-esque robots than humans nowadays. To some, the perfect utopia, especially for inventors and greedy dictators, but to most, though secretly, a dystopia. But one could not simply complain, nothing was changing, complaining would just be a waste of time. Any magical creature who managed to survive in this new world were forced to adhere to human customs, live a human life, but without the necessary skills to such things, most were forced into terrible lines of work. In the cold, damp, and dark slums of Cogton was where most of the magical creatures made their home, accompanied by the humans who just couldn't handle the city either. The countryside was one's only hope, but getting there was the problem, for those born behind the Capital walls were forced to stay.

[pic https://i.imgur.com/57Q6e1L.jpg]

Eliza Fairbanks wasn't an obvious victim of technology, her father a respectable railroad engineer and inventor wealthy enough to afford an estate in the upper city, but how the woman dreamed of another life far away from the smoke and grime. A dream that felt far away, but dreaming kept her sane. She spent most of her days at the train station, watching each train rush past until boredom overtook her, daydreaming about the world outside those steel walls. It never dawned on her that things outside weren't much different, but ignorance was bliss, especially if you could never leave.

Another day spent at the train station, a book in hand as Eliza sat on a small bench near the exit. People would walk past every day without even looking at her, a few, most unusual in their demeanor and mannerism, would steal glance or two. Eliza knew nothing about magic, besides the Spirit-Hunters who were still present in the city, but a lack of magic and the magical creatures who successfully disguised themselves in society, they were out of work and had been for years, practically begging for one creature to show up. She never thought about magic, doubted its existence many times, but if magical creatures truly did exist, Eliza felt sorry for them, most definitely.
  | Wolf | / Sayonara / 38d 5h 43m 59s
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[size12 [font roman [b "Male. Appears to be of middle age. Last seen at this club at 8:45 PM with a currently unknown man."] Conrí mumbled beneath his breath to himself as his eyes fluttered through the report in his hands. Another murder, another senseless tragedy this town had to suffer through again, but Conrí never felt truly bothered by any of that. To him, another crime scene was just another job, but to his co-workers, even in this line of work they had been in for years, sometimes things became too much. But this specific murder, while certainly a misfortune for the victim and his family and friends, was not the worst Conrí had ever seen.

A hot cup of coffee in one hand and a warm bagel in the other, Conrí stared at the lights of the club shining in the dark, back pressed up against his seat as his partner next to him lit a cigarette and took a hefty draw. [b "Another death in what, the span of two weeks? What the fuck is wrong with this town."] He sighed with exasperation as Conrí merely chuckled and then shrugged, which made his partner give him a funny look. [b "I guess we're [i that] town, huh."] He replied with a smirk, his partner wasn't nearly as amused as him. He just shook his head and stared out the window into nothingness, his eyes momentarily focusing a few raindrops that slithered down the glass. [b "You never worry about anything, do you?"] It came off as a joke, but Conrí knew his partner was serious deep down. It always made him feel, insecure? He could never label any of his emotions, no matter how strong they became. [b "Hakuna Matata."] He just played it off with a half-smile, but his eyes betrayed him. Not that his partner made a comment.

But, death, to Conrí was completely normal. Just a [i thing] that happened and would happen to everyone. Some people just aren't lucky enough to be granted a peaceful death, and that's unfortunate, but also normal in a very messed up way. It was all normal to him, to think about someone dying horribly, but to die in their sleep or be at peace at death, that made him feel confused, uncertain. It made him think, think about things that he scarcely understood. Everything has to die, that's just the truth, but all Conrí ever knew was brutality in that aspect, never anything else. He had felt like that since, well, since his first-ever memory.

Before his mind was completely overcome by these thoughts, his partner tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to follow him into the club. Conrí just nodded and left the car, leaving behind his half-eaten bagel and the empty cup of coffee before collecting everything that was needed. He looked at the club, caution tape everywhere, other investigators writing reports, the sound of distant sirens in the background. It was nothing short of a crime scene of something cruel and senseless, and to Conrí, tonight was just another night.

An officer approached him and filled him in on the details of the crime, to which Conrí just motioned his partner to follow him inside the club, which even before entering stank of spilled alcohol and the unmistakable metallic scent of fresh blood and death. A smell that would cause most to double-take, but Conrí took everything in stride as per usual. The floor was littered with smashed glass, and the entire bar felt cold and empty. [b "Last seen at the bar, eh?"] He mumbled beneath his breath with his 'brow raised. [b "Didn't get very far then."] He sarcastically joked before approaching one of the other detectives on-scene clad in protective gear. [b "Anyone else on-site? Civilians, workers, you know the lot."] He questioned, to which the detective nodded. [b "A few serving as witnesses. They're outside, some have already been questioned. Most of them were working at the time of the victim's death. Some claim to have known the man himself."] The detective droned on as Conrí approached the bar and studied a few of the marked bloodstains. [b "I'll see to them. They'll know something."] It was kind of a guess, but if they worked here, surely they would have something usual. Conrí left, leaving his partner and the other detectives and investigators to investigate the scene, and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket; dark eyes aimlessly searching the street ahead of him as he lit the tab and deeply inhaled the narcotic smoke into his poor precious lungs.
  | Andy | / Stripper / 39d 4h 7m 49s

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