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.
What's worse than drinking too much? Drinking too much while a handful of Molly courses through your system. What's worse than drinking too much while a handful of Molly courses through your system? Some handsy 40-year-old and his drunk wingman thinking that just because you've been drinking too much while a handful of Molly courses through your system, you're down to get a bit frisky in the alley behind the bar. [break][break] "Back the fuck off, assholes!" Sachi barked, words slurring, the world of grays and neons swirling like some cheap Picasso painting. She stumbled, scraped her bare forearm against the brick wall of the club, and let out another sloppy curse as she glanced down at the wound. [break][break] The distraction was, unfortunately, enough that Mr. My-Business-is-Creeping managed to get ahold of her, his meaty fingers digging into fabric of her skirt. A disgruntled sound left the young woman, her hand flailing, somehow managing to make contact with the bastard's face. [break][break] "What the fuck?!" [break][break] The angered cry would have probably brought a snarky grin to Sachi's face had said face not suddenly been introduced to Wingman-with-a-Mean-Right-Hook's patented right hook. Sent flying back against the brick, an involuntary whimper leaving her, Sachi hardly managed to stay on her feet as she caught herself. Blood. She tasted blood. [break][break] Fuck, fuck, fuck! [break][break] Had she perhaps not drowned her system in a bit too much stimulation, were the world perhaps less of a watercolor painting, she probably could have handled herself rather well. She'd gotten into enough violent scrapes in her lifetime to be able to kick some ass when needed. [break][break] This was not one of those moments. [break][break] Breathing shallow, head throbbing, Sachi could barely manage to differentiate the men's outlines from the swirling mass of colors that made up the alleyway. She didn't even realize hands were coming at her until she was being thrown against the brick, head bouncing off the stone and sending black spots shooting across her vision as she slid to the ground, the slurred laughter of the two assholes beside her echoing through her aching head.
If Yuto drageed her out one more time this month, Chiharu would, well, she didn't know what she would do, but it certainly wouldn't be pretty. Sure, their group had been a long time partner of Tsumaru, and of course she had to be lenient with payments, but what was setting up a meeting every week or so, only to buy her a drink and make excuses about why they couldn't pay up this week. Would it kill him to look for her only when he actually needed to? Her time was precious. Chiharu runs a hand through her hair. The man's hemming and hawwing continued until the night was dark, no doubt on purpose. When he offered to walk her home, Chiharu promptly left.
She walks determinedly away from the area, slipping between clearly intoxicated and far too excited people. A shout from an alley off to the side draws her attention. Chiharu hesitates. People fought around here all the time, especially with a couple extra drinks in them. Would this not just be looking for trouble? She steps closer regardless. Squinting against the darkness, she just barely catches someone being thrown against the wall.
Even Chiharu winces at the hit, though the stranger manages to stay on their feet. She glances to the people in front. Two men, one clearly intoxicated and looking for a fight. Doable, she thinks. She pulls a flashlight from her pockets and takes a breath.
"Nobody likes pushy old men." Her tone is light, but her movements fast. Without giving them time to react, she shines the light straight into their faces. A deft kick to the knees brings the apparent wingman down. She holds him down under her knee. Drawing a small object from her pocket, she presses it into his back. "No sudden movements, or I'll put a hole through him." Hopefully they were drunk enough to fall for her bluff. Guns were prohibitively hard to come across, and so the was simply poking him with a wooden baton, but they didn't need to know that. All they needed to do now, was walk away.
"Nobody likes pushy old men." [break][break] The feminine voice was unfamiliar, but wholly welcome. Joining the haze of vibrant, blotchy hues was a dash of emerald. It took a significant amount of concentrated effort for Sachi to actually focus in and see the new entrant, some flourish of relief rushing her features as the woman's image solidified, her foot making painful contact with wingman's knee before pinning him down. [break][break] "No sudden movements, or I'll put a hole through him." [break][break] Sachi watched, some hazy exhilaration in her gaze. It was exceedingly satisfying to see the main bastard, looming over her like some ogling vulture, contort his features in terror. Serve you right, asshole, her mind slurred up at him, Sachi starting to attempt to climb to her feet. In all honesty, the pink-haired lass probably should have been concerned by the idea of this chick having an actual firearm, but she was far too preoccupied with getting herself standing to actually manage any in-depth contemplations on the topic. [break][break] "Yeah, better run assholes," she instead slurred, stumbling back against the brick as she finally managed to get to her feet. Some loopy grin spread across her battered face, cloudy emeralds just challenging the nervous businessman to try the woman's threat. [break][break] She probably should have just kept her mouth shut. [break][break] Something about her intoxicated taunt must have pushed him over the edge of terror, his wild gaze glancing between the two women before he reached for Sachi. He clearly was attempting to grab her by the hair, to snatch her up and use her as some sort of hostage, but his movements weren't as skilled as his restrained companion's, hand violently tugging at those pink locks but ultimately failing to get a good enough hold. Instead, he got a handful of her hairband, tugging it away as he stumbled back. [break][break] "H-Hey, wai--!" Sachi attempted, stepping towards him in some futile attempt to get her headband back. [break][break] She hardly took a step and a half before tripping and tumbling to the rough concrete below. A sharp hiss left her, followed by a frustrated, pained groan as the man rushed down the alleyway away from the scene, his restrained friend's pissed ramblings echoing behind him as he was left behind.
