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.
[attr="class","inner-finally"]If there was one thing in the world Hiyokuna Sunadokei loved more than her ill-gotten wealth, it was indulging herself in the lavish pleasures that it afforded her. Naturally, that meant a very self indulgent shopping spree. The buxom kingpin had arrived in Shibuya at approximately eleven am sharp, dressed to kill as she often was. Wearing one of her signature outfits; dark purple sleeveless turtleneck, with a black pencil skirt and matching pantyhose. All cinched at the waist by a very dark violet belt with a silver clasp. Black, high heeled boots completed the outfit, leaving Sunadokei looking as chic as ever. Given it was a rather chilly autumn day, she also wore a set of white earmuffs with a pink headband, and a matching pink overcoat, though the latter was left unfastened and hung loosely about her shoulders as the sun neared its noon apex and brought with it a pleasant warmth.
Pulling up via limousine, the wealthy woman had her driver depart with the vehicle, finding a spot in valet parking nearby no doubt. Sunadokei had no time for such trivial things. She was accompanied by her trusted bodyguard, Mandla Kentarō, a rather imposing, dark skinned man of mixed ethnicity. A native of Kenya, he had spent much of his formative years bouncing between his father's residence in Japan and his mother's homeland of Nairobi. Two tours in the Japanese Special Defense Force, and then nearly a decade working for anti-poaching operations in Kenya. He had retired from that particular line of work following a nasty rifle wound that robbed him of his left eye. His 'retirement' consisted of bodyguard services, and though he was formally employed by Sunadokei in a fully legitimate capacity, he knew well of her criminal dealings. Kentarō paid little mind, as his employer had offered to donate an agreed upon sum equal to his negotiated salary to the wildlife foundation of his choosing. This year it had been an elephant sanctuary.
Sunadokei was happily sipping away at a large chocolate milkshake, as her menacing bodyguard walked adjacent to her holding several colorful shopping bags from various high end stores. "I was thinking we hit my favorite boutique next." Sunadokei said after finishing a large sip. "I need to stock up on hair dye, do you know how hard it is to find the perfect shade of purple. Oh, and I could always use more conditioner. Not that you'd know anything about that." She snickered, Kentarō was bald as as his wits were dry. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at his buxom boss and inhaling deeper than usual. It was as close as he got to expressing disgust.
"You remember I am bald by choice, correct?" He stated in his deep, booming voice. His Japanese thick with a heavy east African accent. The imposing gentleman retrieved a toothpick from his jacket pocket, and stuck it between his lips. He was trying to quit smoking, and idly chewing on a toothpick kept his lips busy and helped with his cravings.
"I know darling, and I quite prefer it. I think it makes you look intimidating. So much better than that buzzcut you had in your old army days." Sunadokei said matter-of-factly, snickering to herself. She took another sip from her shake, ignoring the eyes as they looked upon her. Sunadokei was a minor celebrity in her own right. A wealthy heiress, daughter of one of Japan's richest men. She was well known, both for her rather obscene figure but also for her socialite lifestyle. Heads occasionally turned, often thinking rather lewd thoughts, sometimes expressing them in whistles or catcalls. Kentarō's fearsome visage adjacent to her kept any seriously perverted comments from being spoken, out of justified fear of his reprisal. Sunadokei laughed off most remarks, occasionally walking with an extra sway to her hips if she truly felt like indulging a fan. Mostly she ignored these catcalls though, common people were so far beneath her... and she had so many ritzy destinations to visit yet on her shopping trip.
A few months had passed since Rose Emile first stepped foot on Japanese soil; some shaking, disheveled mess of a man who was too anxious to so much as look at another stranger. Well; time certainly hadn't healed all of his wounds--but it had given him a moment to breathe. The young man had been given an environment among the Tsumaru to ease back into his work slowly. His days spent practicing an entirely new language; while his nights were spent getting himself accustomed to reading and providing enticing encounters for clients. [break][break]
Today, however, that self-caged little songbird had gotten curious--deciding to stretch his wings. Unfortunately for Emile, he didn't have quite the navigational instincts of a bird. No, the young man had always had a bad habit of getting lost. Quite a conundrum in any large city, let alone one that was entirely foreign to him--having to seek out English-translated signs. Something far from his mind as his headphones drowned out the outside world; less than cognizant of his surroundings. His trusty walkman the best companion he could ask for on long walks through unfamiliar streets.[break][break]
His footfalls were light; barely making a sound. A skip and a twirl in his step as he lost himself in those delightful little melodies that overtook his hearing. Every move akin to a ballet dancer; graceful and fluid until the very moment that the tune in his ear halted. Suddenly, he found his mind pulled from that pleasant world of 80's Alt Rock; those intense beats and the sounds of voices in his mother tongue quickly overtaken by the chaotic noise of the crowded city streets. Brows furrowing; he pushed that cloud-like ashen hair from his face--suddenly very aware that he had wandered much, much farther than he had ever intended to.[break][break]
Emile always looked somewhat out-of-place in the streets of Japan; a clear foreigner. His blue eyes as vivid as the neon signs that lit the storefronts in the evenings, alabaster skin dusted with pinks as if he were a lovingly hand-crafted art doll--airbrushed by meticulous hands, and pigment-less hair had a tendency to draw in looks in business sectors; but with the varied crowds of Shibuya--thankfully, he didn't look so out-of-place. The true eye-catching quality he bore; fully on display? A large red burn scar that began beneath his left eye; the texture of snake scales at the beastly thing coiled down around his neck and disappeared into his clothing. The man despised having that marking on display; nearly always covering it with layer upon layer of thick makeup--however, he was on strict orders to avoid just that.[break][break]
The wandering courtesan was dressed-down; no intention of seeking work today. A simple, white button-up shirt paired with a powder-blue cardigan--both seeming to be about three sizes too large for his petite frame. This aspect was only accentuated by the fact the boy had dawned black leggings and low-heeled ankle boots that matched--showing the true size of that delicate form.[break][break]
"Shi-bu-ya..." he mumbled to himself; his voice a gentle rasp as he slowly sounded out each syllable. A heavy American accent dripping from that one simple title. Those oceanic pools flitting from sign-to-sign; surrounded by various boutiques and shops--a resounding feeling of: how did I get here? Overtaking the timid creature.[break][break]
Anxious was the natural state of the meek man; and the moment he became aware of just how many people were around--he nearly froze. Those pinpricked pupils shooting from body, to body to-- Oh, wow... A pair of two rather enticing forms gracing the streets with their presence. Slowly; those pupils dilated. Something to focus on, finally. Something not so terrifying--well, not that he knew, anyway...[break][break]
New to the country, and ever-so-sheltered... Emile had no prior knowledge of the curvaceous kingpin; not well-acquainted enough with the language to have understood the whispers of his Tsumaru brothers. While he could easily assume the beautiful woman had status; the way her dark skinned companion carried himself--clearly a body-guard or something of the sort. A sight that he was far too familiar with. Those brightly colored bags held securely in his arms proved to be another focal point. Before he knew it; Emile's feet were leading him after those entrancing forms. The natural sway of that soft-looking stranger's hips catching his eye just the same. A slight tint of scarlet found his cheeks; padding up--probably closer alongside the pair than Kentarō may abide. Baby-blues fixed upon those bright violets; taking in each curve and slope of her face--her lashes. "So pretty..." he unconsciously mumbled in his native tongue; completely unaware that that lyrical rasp had fallen from his lips. He seemed to be rather transfixed by Sunadokei.
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[attr="class","inner-finally"]Sunadokei was busy indulging herself in idle conversation with her bodyguard, talking at length of the small arsenal of feminine beauty products she intended to buy. To which Kentarō could only grimace and imagine how many bags he would end up carrying by the time they finished up today. "Might I suggest we swing back towards the parking garage before lunch?" He added quickly when he got a moment in edgewise. He had no desire to be her luggage rack any longer than need be.
"Hmm..." Sunadokei said, touching her finger to her lip as she mulled it over. "Acceptable. I know the cutest little venue we could stop at for lunch too. It'll be on the way anyways." She let out an excited giggle, relishing her outing and her plans. Kentarō breathed a sigh of relief, trying to maintain his normally stoic expression as he did. Sunadokei in the meantime, remained blissfully ignorant of a certain blue eyed, blonde haired young man watching her with a curious transfixion. In the game of life, some people tend to stand out. This man happened to do so quite literally.
"Miss Hiyokuna, look out." Kentarō said with a hint of urgency, watching as his employer continued her eager gait distracted by their conversation.
"Hmm?" Was all she managed to reply, before impacting the man in front of her. Sunadokei had ample cushioning for the impact, damn near smothering the hapless stranger before she bounced off. Her bodyguard was there to catch his top heavy employer before she fell, it was rather difficult to balance in heels even without her figure. Sunadokei blushed red for a moment, before an irritated pout crossed her face. "Hey, watch where you're going!" She exclaimed, eying up the stranger more carefully. He was clearly no local, and she let out an annoyed scoff after coming to her conclusion. "Ugh, tourists. Do you have any ideas who I even am?" She asked in an annoyed tone, folding her arms crossed beneath her massive bust and tapping her foot impatiently.
