Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
“Gotanda my rotunda, how we go round and round.” [break][break]
Surprise, surprise on this beautiful day. The Arcade was pumping, full of energy and behind the counter doing push-ups was a man who seemed to stand out amongst the crowd: Otoshigo. A co-worker of his, she manned the counter while he was suppose to be on break and back from break like thirty minutes ago…? But the guy was technically where he needed to be and he was being productive. “It’s for the job, somebody’s gotta muscle all that yen around!” He kept at it, fast approaching sixty. And the day went on like any other day as the girl sighed and laughed at him as she helped out the customers. Street Fighter II had the place booming from sun up til sun down. It was better than any club as far as fun goes, but Oto didn’t really meet too many people into the things he was interested in in this line of work. [break][break]
That night… [break][break]
They closed up shop and Oto was bored. Hitting up the penthouses had become a bore so he decided to try and get things done locally. No raiding the fridge, no stealing, he just wanted a free place to stay for the night and run up someone else’s bills. So… technically he wasn’t stealing stealing, but he was stealing. It was around ten pm by the time he found a place, it looked nice, no one was really around and given the fact that it was a college district he was sure he wouldn’t get found out; at least not until morning and by then he could just duck back to the Arcade and chill like nothing happened. College students, those so gloriously engrossed in the fine arts pursuing the everlasting fountain of knowledge should be out chillin’ and doing things they have no business doing. Oto felt his odds of actually bumping into someone tonight would be slim to none. [break][break]
So, he picked a place. Picked the lock. Slipped in silently dressed in all black. Closed the door behind him. He took a good ten minutes learning the basic layout of the place and his motorcycle was hidden nearby. Then suddenly…![break][break]
With caution to the wind, he just flopped down on the couch and laid out til he drifted of to sleep. Gotta love the 90’s. [break][break]
Sachi was having a bad night. It had begun well enough--a few drinks with friends, some dancing, a bit of flirtation with the cute bartender--but a too-handsy 40-year-old and three shots of Fireball were not the most conducive combination, leading to some violent tussle in the alley behind the bar, Sachi stumbling out victorious but with a plethora of purples and blues dotting her form. For the briefest of moments, she debated staying out, reuniting with her friends and drowning the aches in a handful of narcotics. The sleazy bastard had left a sour taste in her mouth, though, resulting in a bruised and battered and half-drunk Miss Morita stumbling back to her apartment in the mid-evening gloom. [break][break] And so it was that the little mistress of pink arrived back home, unlocking her apartment and slipping inside with a quiet, exhausted sigh. She flipped on some lights in the kitchenette, grabbed out a water bottle from her fridge, and headed to the couch for some much-needed relaxation and recuperation. [break][break] "What the fuck?" [break][break] Water bottle hovering near her lips, one of those damnable heels halfway off, the strap pinched between her fingers, Sachi froze and stared at the body occupying her cushions. [break][break] "WHAT THE FUCK?!" [break][break] The second exclamation, far louder than the first, was accompanied by that water bottle careening through the air towards the invader's face, water splashing across the man and couch alike. [break][break] "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"
The sleep was so deep he hadn’t even heard her coming in. Oto sat up sharply with his face and hair dripping water as he clutched his forehead. “YO! Is this how you treat all your house guests!? Ya can’t just go around beaming people while their sleeping lady. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden anyway?” Oto went to rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the light while using the bottom end up his shirt to dry off a bit. He hunched over, fumbled around for the bottle then sat it up on the living room table properly. A bit too late, but someone had to have some manners here. His language and phrasing implied he was invited over, but heh, that’s far from the truth. But he wanted to ease the tension with humor.[break][break]
“I’m Oto. I’m a good luck charm …a good luck charm you just tried to murder!” He was being overly dramatic in a comedic way as he flopped back onto the couch. “Woe is me with this head injury!” he exclaimed in a Shakespearian tone as he lifted the back of his hand to his forehead. From behind his fingers his eyes stayed focused on her… just in case she made a move. Despite the humor he never let his guard down and he never underestimated an opponent. However, it was still up in the air on what she was to him aside from being a pissed off stranger, ha. He did look her up and down a bit, slowly working out possible events that lead to her being home way earlier than she should have been. He thought for sure such a nice place would be empty. Normally people with nice houses are out all times of the night, a bit of a rule he noticed that held true.[break][break]
In any case, he lay there on the couch, back of his hand to his forehead with his head throbbing while being dramatic.[break][break]
No attempts at tension-easing were going to work. Sachi wouldn't have tolerated someone breaking into her apartment on any evening, but she was already having a bad night; some snarky intruder's attempt at humor wasn't about to calm her down. [break][break] "Good luck charm, my ass," she practically growled back, reaching down to remove her other shoe, glaring emeralds never leaving the invading form before her. "And trust me, you haven't begun to see me try to kill you." [break][break] Shoe successfully removed, a heel in each hand, Sachi cock a perfectly-trimmed pink brow at her "guest," reminding herself of where her pepper spray, bat, and other useful defense tools were. When she spoke, her tone was neither kind nor friendly, and it certainly contained no trace of the humor found in her companion's visage. [break][break] "Get the hell out of my apartment or I'm going to fucking make you leave." [break][break] Whether he agreed or not really didn't matter; Sachi was so pissed off that even if he agreed to leave, those heels were going to start flying. Careening through the air just moments after the warning left her lips, heels angled towards the dramatic form lounging across her cushions, Sachi used the moment to dart towards her purse, haphazardly discarded on the floor a few feet away, the mace inside her destination.
Oto reached forward grabbing the heels as they came soaring at him, his eyes never leaving the woman during his dramatics and now he knew: now wasn’t the time for humor. It was as if she flipped a switch. Immediately after grabbing the flying heels he chucked them directly at her head like a ninja anime character. She activated his trap card: throwing shit. Hurling knives was his thing and potentially clucking someone in the head with shoes was child’s play. His eyes had remained trained on her as she took off for the purse and with coordination he had launched his missiles. Return fire! Return fire!! After he hurled the shoes, he grabbed a couch cushion for defense, lifting it up in front of him as he rose from the couch, his figure a hulking dark shadow now armed with a dark souls style square shield! He had no plans to use his knives on a woman. Oto was brutal, but even some things didn’t fit his character after all.[break][break]
“Honestly, looks like someone needs a timeout!”[break][break]
Not his best work! But he wasn’t trying to escalate the situation. He wanted to look around for what else he could throw, but his eyes stayed on her. This woman was really ready to go to war over a guy taking a nap on the couch! Geez. In his mind the bit about breaking and entering was kinda fading… it slipped his mind. He yelled from behind his couch cushion shield he held up with both hands, just barely peeping over it, “Someone had a shitty night!..!?”[break][break]
Sachi was luckily already moving or she probably would've gotten a heel to the face, her instincts still enough intact for her to duck away at the last minute. Grumbling some curse at the man, she reached down for her purse and easily snatched out that little black bottle. Turning on her now-bare heels, she brandished the thing at her assailant... only to freeze with a confused look at he held that cushion up in front of him. [break][break] "Honestly, looks like someone needs a timeout! Someone had a shitty night!..!?" [break][break] "Gods, you are so fucking annoying," she grumbled back, pissed that he was blocking himself enough to cause a moderate, momentary standstill. A bit louder, she called out, "Just get the hell out of my apartment! I didn't--!" [break][break] Realization dawned on her. She was a young, successful future lawyer from a well-respected family. He was a lowlife that broke into her apartment. Her emerald gaze glanced to the phone hanging from the wall across the way in the kitchen. [break][break] You got this, her mind assured right before she darted, bare feet padding across the floorboards as she dashed to the phone, hellbent on, at the very least, dialing 911 before he had the chance to stop her.
