FIAT JUSTITIA

It’s the 1890’s, and you’ve just been stolen by bats. Wherever you were, whatever state you were in, it was fast, and confusing. It was black as night and there was not a spark of light until your eyes opened and you could see cavern lights glimmering above you. The last of the bats flit away and you’re left standing in a quarter of the underground city, with only your clothes and what you hold left to your name.

Traditional entry to the Fifth City usually involves getting thrown in prison. It’s a bit of a rite of passage for those not born here. Some unlucky fellows may end up that way yet! The constables saw the bats and they’re looking at you funny. Strange newcomers often get mishandled at first. Can’t be too sure with all the crime around here y'know? But worry not as the prison in the stalactite above has some…interesting holes in its security.

Worry more about the brief searing touch of the Echo Bazaar on your mind, body, and soul. Worry more about something shining distant on the horizon, and the dark waters close at hand. Worry about how you got here, as well as what even is here…

And perhaps worry about the weird book in your pocket that’s writing in itself.

Welcome to the Neath, to Fallen London; the Bazaar, the Masters, and many others, extend their warmest of welcomes.

It’s the 1890’s, and you’ve just been stolen by bats. Wherever you were, whatever state you were in, it was fast, and confusing. It was black as night and there was not a spark of light until your eyes opened and you could see cavern lights glimmering above you. The last of the bats flit away and you’re left standing in a quarter of the underground city, with only your clothes and what you hold left to your name.

Traditional entry to the Fifth City usually involves getting thrown in prison. It’s a bit of a rite of passage for those not born here. Some unlucky fellows may end up that way yet! The constables saw the bats and they’re looking at you funny. Strange newcomers often get mishandled at first. Can’t be too sure with all the crime around here y'know? But worry not as the prison in the stalactite above has some…interesting holes in its security.

Worry more about the brief searing touch of the Echo Bazaar on your mind, body, and soul. Worry more about something shining distant on the horizon, and the dark waters close at hand. Worry about how you got here, as well as what even is here…

And perhaps worry about the weird book in your pocket that’s writing in itself.

Welcome to the Neath, to Fallen London; the Bazaar, the Masters, and many others, extend their warmest of welcomes.

There was plenty of customers in today– Or, at least in the morning! Nothing that Sanada couldn’t handle, of course! Being the cashier, it was always pretty exciting for him. Never did such a thing like this before! He still doesn’t even know how to properly open the cash register… 

No messing around! With a loud slap to the face with both of his hands over his cheek, he notices a customer approaching and Sanada finds himself immediately smiling. Plus, it was rather late in the day– It was nighttime, to be more specific. Hardly anyone came by around this time! 

The loud booming voice was his much needed alarm and it startled him so much that he dropped the bottle of shampoo and made the hidden bodega cat fart out of fear. 

          “ Huh? You wanna pay for me? “

“It’s fine, really.” The bag was already in her hands and the money was already in the cashier’s, paying for the girl’s cookies and his coffee. He wore a glove to hide his grotesque hand to at least look ‘normal’, to give himself this false facade of being ‘normal’ again.

stop counting

He was 240, but he was someone else too, wasn’t he? It was coming back to him, now that he could see, now that his hands were his own, chipped black nails whose color wasn’t painted on scratching at his palms without him thinking about it.

His name was Kaneki Ken, Eyepatch, Centipede, he was prisoner 240, and he was so, so, hungry.

He was half mad with it, and everyone around him was foodpersonfood but then he barely registered crisis and the hunger overcame the fear of harming someone, and he ventured outside.

But there, he could wreak havoc. He had been weak with hunger, but there were bodies everywhere, bodies meant to be defeated, mindless, animated by magic, so he could eat, right? He didn’t want to eat he devoured them, kagune whipping about wildly, eliminating the enemies while they continued to pose no threat to him, and even less threat as time went on. For the first time in daysweeksmonths, he felt strong.

He didn’t notice when his kagune began to change, when a mask descended half over his face and a centipede’s tail whipped around behind him. Everything was his own hunger, his own strength, and moving targets to c o n s u m e

but something had stopped his kagune, and was he not merely imagining the trembling of the ground beneath his feet? And was there… someone there?

Panicked people met him as he arrived at the scene, bumping into him like he was nothing as they were focused into running away. It wasn’t those mindless corpses that they were afraid of, but something greater, even more dangerous. 

He could see some residents fighting with their magic, something unheard of from his universe, but they were only overpowered by he sheer strength of this monster’s tendril.

A kagune.

Amon rushed into the fight, and parried an incoming kagune strike with his mutated arm. It was a sense of morbid nostalgia to be reminded of just how strong the other was, so strong that not even magic could hinder a ghoul’s rampage. 

“Everybody leave!” His voice boomed before ukaku shards came flying down onto the battlefield, separating him and Kaneki from the residents. As he held him back, he manifested Doujima from parts of his kagune and used it to further distance the other from any civilian. 

“Eyepatch, I can’t let you through.” With those words and Doujima held tightly in his hand, it was like that time back then. Many feelings filled Amon as he stood across Kaneki yet again in another battlefield, but one that stood out the most was his determination to change fate’s course, to not let this happen again, and create an outcome that was favorable for the both of them.

          {☻} —; From the shadows was Sombra—and from deeper within, zombies apparently. Having just gotten a mere grasp on her surroundings, radio broadcasts declared a zombie apocalypse. You’d think between getting chased by one of the strongest women in Russia, as well as being spirited away from her world, that she’d at least get some semblance of a break.

          {☻} —; This was a good opportunity though. With the city being torn asunder by the undead, she’d be able to get a bearing on the surroundings. What was that man’s name? Asphodel? Surely he was one of the people in charge here. If she could datamine personal files about him, she was sure she could arrange a friendship with him.

          {☻} —; She soon took action, running along the streets. It didn’t seem like anyone was in prudent danger. From what she observed, the people here were strong. That only made it more necessary for her to avoid unnecessary conflict. Speaking of, however, it seemed someone had the desire to play heroics. Fighting off fiends so that the innocent will be safe? Well it was working, but there were just too many of these walking dead around. It’s not like she cared, but perhaps it would benefit her to ally with someone strong.

          {☻} —; She tosses her translocator behind her, jumping into the fray. With a neon flash she came into view, her thermoptic camouflage dissipating before the sound of gunshots were heard. A few seconds, that’s all it took. These things weren’t especially strong, but she did lessen the burden on the man’s hand. So she decides by herself anyways.

“I appreciate the help.” It came out more bitter than he intended to but it was only because he’s a bit winded, a little stressed, but not hungry, which was the true victory here.

“You seem to be enjoying this mess.” It was a little pet peeve for him when people didn’t take dangerous events like this seriously, especially during work. But he isn’t an investigator anymore, what a sad reminder. Speaking of pets, Amon picked up something that was in between his feet the whole time. A small Pomeranian barked happily as it’s lifted, it’s white fur stained with dirt and mud, much like Amon’s cloak.

Jesse sits, pouting, arms crossed and sleeve rolled up to the shoulder as Amon tends to a particularly nasty wound on his bicep. The both of them did freelance, dirty work to make ends meet. For Jesse, this usually meant snooping, or playing bodyguard. Things didn’t always break out in a fight like it had tonight, but it definitely wasn’t uncommon. But for this job, they had to work together. And the job was done. The guy they’d been tailing was caught, and all was well.

     “Y’know it’s really not that bad. What’s a little dagger to the arm? I’ve had worse. It’s really fi- fi- OW!”

Jesse winces as Amon applies the disinfectant to the slash in his arm. Embarrassed, he quickly tries to cover up, changing the subject.

🌋- Has your muse done something stupid and not regret it?

But of course! Libra is considered by others to be quite eccentric, and so a lot of actions he takes part in can be considered quite silly. Probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done is try to befriend a mole. He just wanted to learn to breach the barrier between speeches to understand another Shepherd.

send me a ツ to see a tweet my muse would post/make about yours.

➢ At this, point, Jesse had sort of gotten used to working alone. It had been some time since Blackwatch was disbanded, and since then, it just didn’t feel right to work with anyone else. But here in Septaneus, he was at a disadvantage. Everyone and their grandma had crazy magic powers, which meant Jesse really had to be handy with his pistol to keep up. He’d been picking up jobs here and there. Playing bodyguard for elected officials, spying on adulterers for their suspicious spouses, and of course there was the time that family tried to hire him for some kid’s birthday party.

➢ The point was that things were getting boring. He missed being in the line of fire. He missed the action and excitement and danger of it all. So when that emergency system went off, Jesse was locked, loaded, and ready to go in a matter of seconds. He didn’t even mind that when he showed up to do tasks for the city, that they paired him with some angry looking fella. He approached the guy, holding out a hand to shake.

     “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. The name’s McCree. Looks like we’ll be workin’ together on this one.”

➢ Jesse paused for a moment, looking over the list the city officials had given him. He glances back up to Amon, smiling a little.

After sharing introductions (Amon was reluctant to shake the other's hand but did it anyways), he studied the map they were provided along with the list.

"Seems that they provided a route for us, but I can sense that you aren't the type to follow a set path." Still, he kept the map on his person.

A blade formed in his hand as he walked towards the exit, picking up the smell of rotting flesh just behind the door.