[center][h3][color=#FF7F00]Shiro Kawabata[/color][/h3]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/EhS31Ss.png[/img]
[/center]

[color=#FF7F00][i]”IT’S SO FLUFFY, BUT IT’LL TEAR ME TO SHREDS IF I TRY TO HUG IT! IS THIS WHAT THEY MEAN BY DIVERGING PATHS?!”[/i][/color] Ignoring the pooch’s ushering altogether, the one-eyed boy was deep in an internal war over whether to move towards the gang or experience that cuddly coat and probably die a brutal death. Quelling the urge, Shiro took in a deep breath and paced his way over to the gang, not without stealing a glance at the Asians showing those dance pad who’s boss. They were probably trained in the art from childbirth and were only allowed to eat even a morsel once they scored a hundred-chain perfect combo. Yes, these individuals were the culmination of generations upon generations of honing and bending one’s own will. There appeared to be a couple free spots still open, though as much as he wanted to challenge the dog behind him to a dance off, he wasn’t too certain that the other party would actually take part in the activity.

Shiro strode up to the group in a casual and collected manner, in spite of the rush of emotions he experienced not even five minutes ago. The song blasting in the background felt incongruous to the whole ordeal, but then again, he did just send two of his friends a message that contained a pretty controversial tune. Unfortunately, his hero or heroes had yet to arrive, so he seemed to be flying solo on this one. The student raised an eyebrow as he looked around, debating whether to dive into a dab-fest right in front of the gang. Thankfully, logic took the boy by the hand and forced him to decide against the prospect. Instead a cordial wave sufficed for a greeting, though the boy wasn’t all too hyped about being dragged away from the previous scene. With it still etched deeply into his brain, Shiro went ahead with the conversation. [color=#FF7F00]”Hey! Since you wanted to chat, here I a-”[/color] 

His verbal train was derailed by the notification attached with a message. The orange haired boy let out a curt “pardon me” before excised himself and eyed the highlighted [i]open[/i] icon.

[quote=][b]To:[/b] Paper Moon
[b]From:[/b] Drauni
[b]Subject:[/b] It hit the fan
[i]5 attached images[/i]
[color=green]”Moon! Holy crap, everything went to hell so fast! At first it was just a bit of flak, but it got blown out of proportion so fast and now the city’s a mess! Something went down at the guildhall, and I was on my way to check it out when the forums suddenly exploded. Now left and right people are going Outlaw and killing each other! A bunch of vehicles are tearing the streets apart, and I think I spotted Arms’ machine, but I wouldn’t take my word for it. I got cut off from Cerulean Knight’s squad, right now I’m holed up in the market district. Send help, please!”[/color][/quote]

A narrow eye glazed over the collection of attached images. While he read the message Shiro manifested another mental panel and pulled up the forum feed. With the circumstances’ components now assembled, it was clear as day why everything had gone into disorder. With a flick of his hand, the screen containing the forums became visible to the gang. After he sent a quick reply to the Stryker assuring him that help was on the way, the boy created a blank message and typed away.

[quote=][b]To:[/b] Angelina Jackson
[b]From:[/b] Shiro Kawabata
[b]Subject:[/b] I need a hero

[color=#FF7F00]”Hey, Lina, looks like some work for us popped up. Everything’s going to hell in a handbasket in the black city, I’ll send you the details momentarily. Got a friend, Drauni, in need of a helping hand. By the looks of it, he’s currently pinned down in the market district by a group of Outlaw Strykers. I’ll be IG soon, but is it alright if a lowly peon asks his boss to help out a friend of his?”[/color][/quote]

With that, Shiro returned to the conversation with a nod to confirm that he was indeed finished with messages. [color=#FF7F00]”Alright, I presume you’re the one doing the talking, right?”[/color] He spoke in his usual amiable voice, just in case the guy was easily set off. Right now, he didn’t know what the gang had up their sleeves, figuratively and literally. [color=#FF7F00]”As I’m sure you fine lads have taken notice by now, but the ebony kingdom seems to be in a bit of a tumult. So let’s get right to it. What’cha guys need?”[/color]
[hr]
[i]Meanwhile[/i]

[url=http://i.imgur.com/Vg4TD7b.png]Drauni[/url] cocked the marksman rifle and rested his shoulder against the stock. Despite the fright he was experiencing at the moment, he composedly held his breath and squeezed the trigger, dispatching a lead envoy straight for an Outlaw’s head. Even though these were his fellow Strykers, rumor had it that the player and a few others were in cahoots with the Sweepers, so he was practically deemed to be one of them. The ranger dove to the side as gunfire bounced off the window pane and the brick facade that enveloped it. The second story of a tavern was the only refuge he could defend himself in. He crept along the grimy concrete floor on all fours as the barrage of bullets continued to ping or soar into the room, letting out a cry through his gas mask with every round. After slamming himself against the wall next to another window, he quickly held his gun out with an outstretched hand blindly fired one shot before retracting it. [color=green]”Well… Wonder if they’d take cookies as spoils.”[/color] 

Just then, the ranger’s ears picked up the gradually closing sound of an engine. With a quick peek around the pane, Drauni confirmed that a machine had pulled up before the complex. It wasn’t anything to really gawk at. Crudely fashioned from the remains of a wheel cannon employed in the conflict last weekend, the four wheel vehicle with a wooden exterior only served as a light transport. At least that was what he had assumed, before he spotted the mounted LMG that wheeled around in his direction. [color=green]”Uh oh.”[/color] Drauni dropped to the floor as an even higher intensity of bullets painted the room. From what he caught sight of, the LMG was in close approximation to the driving controls, and on top of that, there was only one individual in the open-top vehicle. The mounted weapon itself rested on a rotational post in the center of the vehicle, a foot behind the driver's seat. Its placement provided the operator with a full scope of the surrounding area, but left the Outlaw fully vulnerable.

[@Lucius Cypher][@Kimiyosis]