Post by Sunaho on Sept 9, 2019 18:16:03 GMT -4
LOOK IN MY IRIS AND YOU'LL SEE DEFIANCE
The hot sun, beating down on her brow, reminded her of home.
Okinawa’s tropical climate was still a far cry from the mediocre Japanese Autumn, of course. Even the sunny days felt like a cheap imitation. A reminder to Sunaho, that home was far from her grasp, even if she saw its shape in the world around her. Home would always be far, so long as she remained as she was, because she didn’t dare return until she’d done what she needed to do.
”Is the coast clear yet?”
Under that Autumn sun, Sunaho sat on a crate in an empty lot with a flip phone to her ear. Around her, men and even a few women in worn hooded coats and long trousers stood patiently. Their ages varied, from young and eager, to middle-aged and grizzled. In one hand, each and every one of them was holding a mask. The vast majority of these masks had skull-like designs, whether they be human or animalistic. Of the crew around her, a fair few were also armed with what passed for ‘weapons’ for their lot.
Broken pipes. Cheap bats. Thick chains. Other bits and pieces that were crude but effective.
Everything they needed to fulfill their leader’s command. These were Sunaho’s people.
Her Dust Devils.
Elsewhere, an inconspicuous older gentleman stood with a similar phone to his ear. Sitting in a cafe, sipping on a warm coffee, he glanced through the window to an establishment on the opposite side of the street. A jewelry store, branded quite heavily as ‘STAR Jewels’. It wasn’t exactly an everyman’s store, all manners of affluent individuals were browsing within, spending God knows how much on gems and trinkets to adorn themselves with.
”Last patrol just headed off. No Heroes in the area, far as I can see. There’s a couple of security guards, still. Armed with batons. Easy pickings,” the aged man uttered calmly into his own phone, as he finished his drink. ”No changes to the plan. I’m ready when you are.”
The smallest fraction of a grin appeared on Sunaho’s face as she nodded to her crew. They responded with eager chears of enthusiasm, rallied already for the job ahead.
”On our way. Return to the dust.”
Pulling the phone away from her ear, the green-haired woman’s hand took on a sandy form, shifting into a moving mass of granular earth that expanded over her flip-phone, before quickly crushing it in her grasp. As she released her grip and stood up, the broken pieces fell to the floor.
”Masks on. It’s time to go.”
Rallied cries erupted from the empty lot, as the Dust Devils donned their skeletal masks and beat their weapons into their palms. Sunaho herself donned no mask, and beared no weapon. All she had was a simple T-shirt and red bomber jacket, long jeans and old sneakers. This plain appearance, and her height of only 5’4”, had no bearing on her ability to lead her gang.
The smaller woman walked past them as they rallied behind her, following Sunaho into battle. A crew of Devils being led by their idol.
”Take everything you can. Even if you have to rip it off one of those yuppies.”
In what might have been an otherwise calm day on a stretch of Tokyo road, chaos quickly erupted.
An older gentleman watched from across the street, just outside a small cafe, as a group of masked individuals walked out from an alleyway. At their front, a smaller woman with striking green hair. Some people had already glanced down the alley, unsure what to make of it. They whispered to themselves, was it a performance, a parade?
Either way, the show was about to begin.
”She never lost her sense of style, did she?” The man mused to himself, as he watched the panic slowly break out when the gang emerged into the street. As others started to quickly make their exit from this block, he followed, casually dropping his flip-phone and stomping it as he left, cheap plastic breaking beneath his foot.
The rest was in her hands.
Sunaho’s eyes were keen and sharp, bright orbs striking a menacing look at the civilians walking the street as her armed crew strolled behind her. In case they didn’t get the message, she delivered it plainly.
”You all better start running.” She said firmly, before gesturing her gang forward.
The Dust Devils sprung into action, rushing straight for the jewelry store, smashing the windows as they bolted past, Sunaho moving steadily amidst their ranks. Some of the patrons of the jewelry store tried to escape, but other Dust Devils would grab them quickly, ripping what jewelry they could first.
As her men took care of grabbing the goods, Sunaho spied the guards. Just as her Dust Devils were beginning to enter the jewelry store itself, two men were pulling out batons in a futile attempt to deter them. Sunaho at least made sure they were taken care of quickly.
Her legs shifted into sand, and with blinding speed, the green-haired girl rushed forward upon the two swirling sandy masses that her legs had become. Gliding past her men, she rushed the security guards, throwing her hands towards them as her arms became pillars of sand, blasting them into the wall and incapacitating them.
”Grab it all! The bastards can afford to lose it.” Having secured the store, Sunaho’s fellow gang members began raiding it and all those inside. Smashing as much glass as they could, they loaded the jewelry into backpacks, while Sunaho remained on watch for cops or Heroes.
As she kept her eyes peeled, the wealthy clientele of this little store were whimpering on the ground, many of them frozen with fear or being scared into submission by other Dust Devils.
”Hypocrites.” The woman scoffed, staring out the storefront as some onlookers began to call the police, some filming, others still running.
”I wonder if any of you ever thought about how many kids worked themselves to death to claw out the bloody jewels you use to show off. I wonder if you even care.” Sunaho said scornfully. All these people, all these exploitative idiots…
Sunaho watched as her crew raided the place, thinking to herself that this was what it was all about.
Taking the things they didn’t deserve, and returning it all to dust.
Okinawa’s tropical climate was still a far cry from the mediocre Japanese Autumn, of course. Even the sunny days felt like a cheap imitation. A reminder to Sunaho, that home was far from her grasp, even if she saw its shape in the world around her. Home would always be far, so long as she remained as she was, because she didn’t dare return until she’d done what she needed to do.
”Is the coast clear yet?”
Under that Autumn sun, Sunaho sat on a crate in an empty lot with a flip phone to her ear. Around her, men and even a few women in worn hooded coats and long trousers stood patiently. Their ages varied, from young and eager, to middle-aged and grizzled. In one hand, each and every one of them was holding a mask. The vast majority of these masks had skull-like designs, whether they be human or animalistic. Of the crew around her, a fair few were also armed with what passed for ‘weapons’ for their lot.
Broken pipes. Cheap bats. Thick chains. Other bits and pieces that were crude but effective.
Everything they needed to fulfill their leader’s command. These were Sunaho’s people.
Her Dust Devils.
Elsewhere, an inconspicuous older gentleman stood with a similar phone to his ear. Sitting in a cafe, sipping on a warm coffee, he glanced through the window to an establishment on the opposite side of the street. A jewelry store, branded quite heavily as ‘STAR Jewels’. It wasn’t exactly an everyman’s store, all manners of affluent individuals were browsing within, spending God knows how much on gems and trinkets to adorn themselves with.
”Last patrol just headed off. No Heroes in the area, far as I can see. There’s a couple of security guards, still. Armed with batons. Easy pickings,” the aged man uttered calmly into his own phone, as he finished his drink. ”No changes to the plan. I’m ready when you are.”
The smallest fraction of a grin appeared on Sunaho’s face as she nodded to her crew. They responded with eager chears of enthusiasm, rallied already for the job ahead.
”On our way. Return to the dust.”
Pulling the phone away from her ear, the green-haired woman’s hand took on a sandy form, shifting into a moving mass of granular earth that expanded over her flip-phone, before quickly crushing it in her grasp. As she released her grip and stood up, the broken pieces fell to the floor.
”Masks on. It’s time to go.”
Rallied cries erupted from the empty lot, as the Dust Devils donned their skeletal masks and beat their weapons into their palms. Sunaho herself donned no mask, and beared no weapon. All she had was a simple T-shirt and red bomber jacket, long jeans and old sneakers. This plain appearance, and her height of only 5’4”, had no bearing on her ability to lead her gang.
The smaller woman walked past them as they rallied behind her, following Sunaho into battle. A crew of Devils being led by their idol.
”Take everything you can. Even if you have to rip it off one of those yuppies.”
In what might have been an otherwise calm day on a stretch of Tokyo road, chaos quickly erupted.
An older gentleman watched from across the street, just outside a small cafe, as a group of masked individuals walked out from an alleyway. At their front, a smaller woman with striking green hair. Some people had already glanced down the alley, unsure what to make of it. They whispered to themselves, was it a performance, a parade?
Either way, the show was about to begin.
”She never lost her sense of style, did she?” The man mused to himself, as he watched the panic slowly break out when the gang emerged into the street. As others started to quickly make their exit from this block, he followed, casually dropping his flip-phone and stomping it as he left, cheap plastic breaking beneath his foot.
The rest was in her hands.
Sunaho’s eyes were keen and sharp, bright orbs striking a menacing look at the civilians walking the street as her armed crew strolled behind her. In case they didn’t get the message, she delivered it plainly.
”You all better start running.” She said firmly, before gesturing her gang forward.
The Dust Devils sprung into action, rushing straight for the jewelry store, smashing the windows as they bolted past, Sunaho moving steadily amidst their ranks. Some of the patrons of the jewelry store tried to escape, but other Dust Devils would grab them quickly, ripping what jewelry they could first.
As her men took care of grabbing the goods, Sunaho spied the guards. Just as her Dust Devils were beginning to enter the jewelry store itself, two men were pulling out batons in a futile attempt to deter them. Sunaho at least made sure they were taken care of quickly.
Her legs shifted into sand, and with blinding speed, the green-haired girl rushed forward upon the two swirling sandy masses that her legs had become. Gliding past her men, she rushed the security guards, throwing her hands towards them as her arms became pillars of sand, blasting them into the wall and incapacitating them.
”Grab it all! The bastards can afford to lose it.” Having secured the store, Sunaho’s fellow gang members began raiding it and all those inside. Smashing as much glass as they could, they loaded the jewelry into backpacks, while Sunaho remained on watch for cops or Heroes.
As she kept her eyes peeled, the wealthy clientele of this little store were whimpering on the ground, many of them frozen with fear or being scared into submission by other Dust Devils.
”Hypocrites.” The woman scoffed, staring out the storefront as some onlookers began to call the police, some filming, others still running.
”I wonder if any of you ever thought about how many kids worked themselves to death to claw out the bloody jewels you use to show off. I wonder if you even care.” Sunaho said scornfully. All these people, all these exploitative idiots…
Sunaho watched as her crew raided the place, thinking to herself that this was what it was all about.
Taking the things they didn’t deserve, and returning it all to dust.
