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To Be King

Degluttait

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a part of To Be King, by Rhianoue.

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Rhianoue holds sovereignty over Degluttait, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

776 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

any gangster-looking manga out there, mainly gangsta.

Setting

Default Location for To Be King
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Degluttait

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Minimap

Degluttait is a part of To Be King.

14 Characters Here

North Black [4] "Try to fight me. The crowd can watch your head roll."
Leon Caesar [3] "Still waters lie about its depth. Don't fall into its trap."
Eden Black [3] "Even in a world like this, I believe that there can be angels in hell."
Regulus Adrastos [2] "Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals."
Germain Renoir [2] "When the city appoints an ailment as it's doctor, I can only oblige."
King Trent [2] "Until I find those men, I won't let myself die."
Rene Byrd [1] OMG so much WIP - Like pictures Personality, BIO, Everything. UGH! This is a nightmare! Why this take so long man!!! SORRY!!
Ahlai Byrd [1] A little less WIP - I'll complete this after I get my other one's personality and BIO up for the relationship thread. SORRY!
Aliana Faust [1] "If you blur your eyes, the streetlights become hundreds of ghosts going home." (WIP)
Pacifica Foxdrop [1] "We're all fighting ourselves in the end."

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Setting

15 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Li Xiuying Character Portrait: North Black Character Portrait: Eden Black Character Portrait: Genesis Delacroix Character Portrait: Regulus Adrastos Character Portrait: Lilith Monetrone Character Portrait: Germain Renoir Character Portrait: Wolfe JΓ€ger Character Portrait: Rene Byrd Character Portrait: King Trent Character Portrait: Ahlai Byrd Character Portrait: Pacifica Foxdrop

...and 3 others.

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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.

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Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: North Black
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God was it so quiet... But it always was to a deaf man. North learned to live life without the noise, as it always that way, since the day he was born. He learned to pick up vibrations on the ground, in the walls, in the air around his ears. He lived his life through feeling around him and reading what people were saying by the movements in their lips. Each small twitch meant something, and the same went for during battle.

He couldn't hear the screams, but the opened mouths, the wide eyes full of fear and pain, the way they moved... North knew. He could 'hear' them screaming in his head.

North's fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, other hand smearing the blood that got on his cheek. A bullet flew overhead- he could feel it make a collision with the wall he had his head and back on. 'They just never stop...' He grumbled to himself as he thought, waiting for the firing to stop. It was hard using a close ranged weapon while guns were the new toys people liked to play with. Still... he was an A/0. A few bullets wouldn't stop him.

His closed his eyes while he waited. Why were these people firing anyways? If anything, the tips of his hair were the only things that gang could see. The moment the pounding on the brick wall stopped, North's dark eyes flashed open again and he turned the corner. Each and every one of those men and women were reloading their guns. Fighting close ranged had its disadvantages, but then again, having a bunch of shooters was a disadvantage as well, especially when they all weren't smart enough to fire in groups. 'Well... if we don't take them out now, someone else will in the next week anyways.' Thirty One was a small, new gang that could hardly think for itself. No organization, just a bunch of people trying to play the kid at the top of the playground. If the Tarots didn't wipe them out first, some other gang would come along with crueler intentions. At least they ended things fast, for the most part.

Once there was an opening to attack, North took it, standing from his hiding spot around the corner and making a quick dash for the group. Men, women... it didn't matter who was in that group because the adrenaline was rushing, and all he could think about was finishing the job as quickly as possible. Sometimes, he'd even be counting the kills without even meaning to. Every time he fought, every damn time, he didn't hardly recalled the events. He just... got lost in the action.

One man went down first, a clean cut at the throat. He was used as a shield in front of North as his own comrades fired at his now lifeless body, bleeding out quickly. North narrowed his eyes onto the shooters in front of him- a few men, one women... He tossed the body to the side carelessly, sword easily cutting through their limbs like scissors and paper.

However, when he reached that woman, his sword froze. He wasn't... he wasn't going to kill a woman, was he? The rush of his adrenaline kept him breathing hard, his focus jumping here and there. He couldn't hear other gunshots in the background because he was so focused on this woman in front of him, pointing the barrel of her pistol right at his chest, crying tears. He looked at her tag dropping from her neck. It read: C/4, she was weak. He raised his sword, ready to run her through and move onto the next group, but there was his one value he constantly tried not to break. He couldn't kill a woman, but this woman looked more than ready to put a bullet in his chest after what he did to the rest of her group.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eden Black
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DΙͺα΄€ΚŸα΄Ι’α΄œα΄‡ Cα΄ΚŸα΄Κ€ β—† #43B7BAx-▏"Watch out!" Eden grabbed the little boy
TΚœα΄α΄œΙ’Κœα΄› Cα΄ΚŸα΄Κ€ β—‡ #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.

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: North Black Character Portrait: Leon Caesar
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macco is dumb and tired
macco is dumb . help me βœ– DIALOGUE: #FD3C3B γ€€ γ€€βœ– THOUGHTS: #413D3D γ€€ γ€€ γ€€β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’ β€’

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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.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: King Trent
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DΙͺα΄€ΚŸα΄Ι’α΄œα΄‡ Cα΄ΚŸα΄Κ€ β—† #AF7817x-▏King kneeled down in front of an old
TΚœα΄α΄œΙ’Κœα΄› Cα΄ΚŸα΄Κ€ β—‡ #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

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: North Black Character Portrait: Regulus Adrastos Character Portrait: Leon Caesar
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DΙͺα΄€ΚŸα΄Ι’α΄œα΄‡ Cα΄ΚŸα΄Κ€ β—† #660066
TΚœα΄α΄œΙ’Κœα΄› Cα΄ΚŸα΄Κ€ β—‡ #585858

Blood, Blood, Blood, Everything seemed to be filled with this crimson liquid, Everywhere he stepped. Regulus himself, Embodies Justice, in his own twisted manner, Justice will only be established, when a fit ruler is on the top, Regulus has no respect for people who talk to much, or fight too much, That's why, Regulus has become someone who does both simultaneously.

Another day, Another dead gang, It was another clean up job, Eliminating a gang a month, Regulus doesn't get a thrill from killing like this, he likes to avoid unnecessary combat, but this, this bloodbath was needed, Regulus needed to rise to the top, and this was a required action to reach that goal.

Thirty one? The name of the gang was just as worthless as the people who were residing inside of it, Saying, "Oh no, We are all at the mercy of Thirty-One!", Doesn't exactly roll of the tongue. It doesn't matter though, They will all be corpses soon enough.

Regulus was hiding behind a building, Of course, He wasn't the fastest, So of course he was waiting for a good time to go in, They seemed to be split into little groups, a good tactic on paper, but unless they study their opponents, every tactic will crumble, separating in groups just makes easy pickings for the Tarots.

Regulus found the chink in the defense he needed, As his ally ran into the fray, North, was it? He was an A/0, Even if he was surrounded, It's nothing he can't handle, It looks like another cluster of people were looking at the spectacle unfold, but that was their mistake, One second he was sprinting towards the group, Another, there was no group left, With his duel blades, he slashed his way through, blocking an overhand attack, Slashing horizontally, to end the man's life, His attacks were swift, slashing forward with both blades to end two men, He made quick work of the group, the group was slightly smaller then North's, but they were roughly the same size. Speaking of North, Was he dubious?, Regulus wouldn't imagine that this killing machine would have morals to live by, but he stood corrected, He was hesitating to kill a woman, Regulus himself, kills people he views as "in his way", judging people on what they have done, instead of what they are, but, Of course, North wasn't in trouble, but getting injured because of something as minimal as this?, That would be unfortunate.

Regulus was at ease, The sniper himself, ended the spectacle, It was all a relief, Regulus slid his finger down his right blade, Wiping blood off of the katana before sheathing both of his blades, HE knew he shouldn't, but, he couldn't hold back, "Is that all? Thirty one, was eliminated in 31 seconds, How can you all live with yourself? If you all decide to come out of your hiding places, We'll make this painless", his face remained unchanged, but he clearly attracted the rest of the victims.

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eden Black Character Portrait: Germain Renoir
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#, as written by Kestrel
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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.

β€œChildren 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. β€œWe adults shouldn't be so reckless. The dead can't protect anyone. Besides,” Germain's lips curled to an impish smile, β€œI 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. β€œCome, get up.” He reached out his hand. β€œThere'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.”