Degluttait

Another morning of August passes by. The gross, disgusting city of Degluttait goes on, the 'sports' and 'games' they play continuing with each passing second. Turn the corner, you'll find a horde of prostitutes. Turn again, someone just had their brains shot out. One more time, and there are children huddling on the walls of dirty buildings for warmth, wearing nothing but rags and dirtied sheets.

The sky is painted grey, the ground painted red, and the people painted black and white. The scent is putrid, having been soiled by the smoke of cigarettes, toxin of the city, and breath of the men and women that are stuck there like birds in a cage.

Shades walked the city the night before, ones that were far from human. Some rose to be as tall as houses, some had terribly long arms, others had elongated necks with black teeth and claws. They come in all sorts of sizes and shapes, and roam primarily at night, where they are most comfortable.

But other problems besides that supernatural factor lie in this city. Darker problems stemming from the root of it all: humans. The gangs are still fighting against each other to this day, one hoping to rise high enough in the ranks to take over the city as the new king. The killing won't stop.

Today, two fires have started, one in the east, and one in the west. The 'fire' in the eastern corner of the city is centered around a group of the Tarots taking care of a shade that's overstepped its boundaries into the grey sunlight. It's already killed five people and injured seven and won't stop until it's killed. Thankfully, that's why the Tarots were tired, and the fight's still lasting. Turns out this shade might take some extra work to kill. Most are generally small, weak, and easy to kill, but sometimes... sometimes there are special cases that turn out to be quite the challenge. At least the pay is high and well, because there actually may be high chances of someone getting themselves killed.

On the western side, the Tarots have gotten into a bit of a fight with another gang known as Thirty One. Turns out one of them spat down at a member, and a few minutes later, guns are firing and people are falling dead on the ground. The fight originally was just a fist fight until someone decided to play dirty and took to their weapon instead. Now, there's no mercy, and the fight's been taken to Thirty One's base. They're struggling to hold ground against this ruthless group of people, and actual fires are starting around the area. They're playing dirty - using hostages, spreading out, destroying things in order to create obstacles - but that's how the fights work in a dirty city. People die, and there will always be a loser and a winner.

But in the end, the city swallows everything.

Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◆ #43B7BAx-▏"Watch out!" Eden grabbed the little boy
Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◇ #A0C544x---▏that stood in the way of the shade, her arm
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▏quickly wrapping around his waist, scooping up the frail child and jumping behind a wall of safety as the giant, two-story shade crushed the surface the two were just standing on. The impact with the dark limb and the ground caused a brief shaking below. The little boy being shielded by the gun woman was screaming and crying, and she urged him to run in the opposite direction, and he did, quickly scramming from the scene.

Eden could hear the creature's moaning, seeing the dark colors in front of her eyes. Synesthesia was a pleasant thing to have, but only in certain cases with people, not demons that searched to hunt and kill, given the chance. She hated hearing it, and it made her nervous, clutching her gun tightly in both her hands, shivering just slightly out of the fear that she could get hurt or injured.

Why did she take on such jobs if she was afraid of death? Because she needed the pay, and there were people needing to be protected. Everyone was afraid of death. She was just more afraid of it than others.

Eden was a coward, most people knew that already. She was terrified to do anything dangerous, and when she decided to take a job, she wasn't the most reliable unless it was a critical situation, but even then, it was rare.

That's what she hated most about herself, the fact that she was hardly any help except for those few moments when she really proved herself. But... the rest of the time, she waited in the shadows, often letting her courage build while a battle raged hardly ten feet from her.

Eden glanced back at the pile of bloodied bodies not too far away. It killed all those people... There was even a child amidst the group. Sickening. Disgusting.

While these thoughts were in her head, another hand smashed into the ground just beside her, and a dark face turned the corner to stare down at her with a spiked, elongated neck. Shades weren't always scary, but the ones that were tended to look like something out of a nightmare. Seeing it's dark, beady eyes caused Eden to pick herself up and sprint right beneath it- it was a weak spot she had realized after watching it for long enough, but that didn't make her feel any more safe.

As she sprinted down, eventually reaching behind the damned thing, she stopped and quickly steadied her aim with her left arm, her eyes carefully narrowing down on the center of its distorted face. Once it's arm moved out of the way and the creature's gaze was fixated on her, she fired, and a bullet lodged itself right between its eyes. Of course, the job couldn't be done that easily.

The shade flailed, only seeming to grow more and more agitated by the second after having been shot. It'd take more than a bullet in the head to kill something of that size and power.

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macco is dumb and tired
macco is dumb . help me ✖ DIALOGUE: #FD3C3B 　 　✖ THOUGHTS: #413D3D 　 　 　• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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Taking out an enemy gang was a chore, much like how one of them always had to take out the trash at the end of the day. It wasn't the most thrilling or satisfying job, but it had to be done. At the very least, something like this didn't require him to be at full working capacity. He was, more or less, simply watching the flow of the battle and picking off any stragglers that were resorting to stealth as their weapon against the Tarot's strength. Smart move but unfortunately for them...

Another one fell, Leo gritting his teeth at the recoil brought by his rifle. By now, the enemy gang had some idea that the Tarots had a sniper somewhere in this building, but his exact location probably hadn't been disclosed yet. He could afford to fire a few more rounds before moving.

The perch from the building across the street wasn't the most comfortable, the smell of dust and rot eating away at his nose as he knelt on the wooden floor. Thirty-One, was it? Leo doubted he'd remember the name; he rarely did. It wasn't worth the memory space, considering in the end, every single one of them would wind up forgotten.

A green eye peered into the scope once again, taking into account the chaotic fighting as he tried to decide where his next bullet would land. He watched North get surrounded but the brunette wasn't worried; they looked like humans, and they looked scared. The more fearful you were, the easier it was to take advantage of your weakness. Leo knew that North wasn't in any trouble, even if it appeared numbers were against him. He was about to switch targets when he saw North hold still. A frown marred his usually cheerful features. "North, what the fuck are you doing?" It was as if his colleague was hesitating. Well, if that's what was happening, then Leo would take action for him before North's reluctance got him killed.

It was over in less than ten seconds. One moment the woman had her gun pointed at The Tarot's Tower, the next she was on the ground, bleeding out from the sniper's bullet that pierced her neck. Right on target; a grim smirk formed on his lips, satisfied that he was in pretty good working condition today. If his aim held true, which he thought it did, then the Star had hit a major artery and it wouldn't be long until she expired.

What was that, North? Was that one of his few morals? If so, it was worse than Leo's devotion.

Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◆ #AF7817x-▏King kneeled down in front of an old
Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◇ #C11B17x---▏tombstone that appeared to have had that
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▏ writing on it before it was scratched out and worn away. In a way, it almost looked like was a praying, but instead of praying to any god, he was praying to and for his wife, Celine. She'd been dead for years now, but he still clung to every memory of her as if it had happened yesterday.

Just beyond the tombstone was the out and open; he was at the outer edge of the city, and just a few more steps and he'd be out. You can always just leave. He could hear his wife's voice just echoing in the back of his head. Just a little more and he could actually be free of such an ugly and disgusting place, yet...

He couldn't. There was something he still had to do- something he still had to finish off, and until it was complete, King wouldn't be able to rest or stop. Until that group of men was killed, by his own hands, he wouldn't leave. His sole reason for existing since everything was taken from him was just for revenge. It seemed in the end, he had shallow reasons for continuing to live and survive. Celine was really the only thing that kept him going back then.

There were booming noises in the background, and the scarred man stood up to observe as two giant clouds rose in the east and west of the city. "They're making trouble already...?" He thought. He knew that some people were taking a job to eliminate a shade but was the other group his gang?

Probably. A few of their members were known to be troublemakers, only, he wasn't there to break up the fight. It was probably too late now though, but he didn't really feel right to just leave them be. 'If they're taking the job in the east, then that must mean the real fight's going on in the west...' He looked over to the other cloud of smoke. Did a fire start? It wasn't surprising to see things like that in the city they lived in, but then again, it wasn't exactly a good sign either. 'Even if it's not us... I guess checking it out couldn't really hurt.' He thought to himself, turning back to the grave.

His tags slipped out of his suit's collar, and with it, two rings dangling from a similar, thin chain. King quickly fixed both so that they were hidden, and stood, turning to leave the tombstone amongst two others. A singular flower was left on each, and the three faint last names of Trent could be hardly spelled out.

Lol at lazy photoshop skills of mine

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Violence incarnate. Such was the shade they faced. As the beast screeched in agony, it's claws spun like a merry-go-round of death, scraping bits off stone walls in it's blind rage. It discriminated not between bricks and flesh, tearing all within it's reach asunder.

With all his strength, Germain pulled Eden by the arm. She might had hit a blind spot, but up close she was at greater risk of being killed by the shade than the other way around. The pair tumbled backward, narrowly avoiding being cut by the monstrous shade's claw before hitting the pavers.

“Children aren't the only ones who should heed such warnings.” Germain said, as he struggled to crawl out of the shade's direct range, still tugging onto Eden's arm. “We adults shouldn't be so reckless. The dead can't protect anyone. Besides,” Germain's lips curled to an impish smile, “I couldn't bear to see a such pretty face scarred.”

Having put a few meters distance between the berserker and Eden and himself, Germain got up from the floor. He'd torn his jeans during the fall, but besides a scratch on his knee he was fine. “Come, get up.” He reached out his hand. “There's only one set of his claws, but there's two of our guns. There is no way it can fight off a pincer attack on it's own.”