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Ah lol. I was basing it largely off the picture you used for him, where there was a necklace n all.
Dude's got a dog tag hanging from his neck, doesn't he? Alhein's the major faction that likes to cosplay as military.
Damn lol, that's a lotta people interpreting Oribara's jump as an attempt to save, rather than just him not wanting to get one-upped by the doll.

Tinman had the decency to step aside at least, and Oribara was fine with going on his merry way when someone had to open their shithole and flap off. Kiddo? Fucking Alhein bitches; even solo they looked down on their nose at everyone else. "Yeah, how 'bout you shut the fuck up, kiddo," he snapped, "and get your giggolo ass to work." He ignored whatever the Fuso bitch mouthed behind his back. What even was an exercyst? Some gross ass wart? Marching right toward the elevator, Oribara was about to step in when a blur of movement caught his eyes.

One of the girls, the midget doll that looked like she belonged a fancy-smancy cafe rather than the dirt and grime of an artifact ruin, leapt off the edge of the chasm. Then fell. And fell. And fell.

This, of course, was an affront that Oribara could not let stand.

So, securing all his equipment more tightly to his body, the redheaded bastard leapt off the edge of the chasm as well, falling parallel to the chains of one of the elevators. The dank air of the ruins rushed up against him as he plummeted and yet, even as he narrowed his profile to reduce air resistance, there was no sign that he was catching up to that white-haired girl. Which may have made sense, if it wasn't for the fact that they were both nearing the ground and she was still not slowing herself in any way.

"Shit!"

Reaching out to his side, Oribara grabbed onto the chains of the elevator, the muscles of his arm bulging as he forcefully slowed his own descent enough so that he wouldn't risk an injury on impact. A hearty thump sounded as his steel-toed boots struck the earth, the impact braced by the tightening of his core, before he stood up straight again. His red eyes traced over the girl, noticing the nonchalant way that she carried herself and the lack of any inflammation on her knee joints, before he pulled his skateboard out of his pack and secured a headlamp to his forehead.

Turning his eyes towards the untouched tunnels ahead, Oribara said flatly, "Those are some fucked up legs ya got there. Who trained ya?"
Did Tanja do a straight drop down?

Did this person do this to every individual that snuck into a public building? Or was this just the 'racism' that Otis had read about in countries as homogeneous as Japan? Or did Motsuhime freak out after he had sent that picture of a gun over, and now everyone's freaking out about a foreigner with a firearm somewhere in Kyoto? Otis let out a sigh, then twisted his head around to look at who was behind him.

"Arillo Tan Otis," he said flatly. His amber eyes explored the features of this individual behind him, gathering up all the identifying details he could. Maybe this was just some sort of high-level mugging. "A student of Silver Gate Academy. Here to investigate some theories, following the vanishing of half my class. Last seen at this convention. Figured it was because they were spirited away. So I figured that there was a space here that served as a boundary to the spirit realm. Why, you ask, would I do this instead of ask my chaperones? One, because I doubt the veracity of whatever they claim. Two, because the application of knowledge is more helpful than the acquisition of it."

He was feeling cold right now. Cold and gold, every sense sharpened for impeding combat.

"Now, who are you? Why are you here? Is this seriously your job? What are you guarding? I suppose this isn't just a convention center? You Yatagarasu, by any chance? Did you dispose of the janitors here too?"
Fuck around and find out. ;3
Oribara's specific course, whether intentionally or coincidentally, is going to be straight through Leonard.

“Hanh?! What’s the hold up here?” A voice sounded from behind the others, belligerent and bold.

The middle-aged badge inspector screwed his face up, still trying to make out whether the badge before him had all the necessary details and identification. It was bent out of shape, had more than a couple of dried stains on it, and the central ‘A’ looked more like an ‘B’ due to a deep slash within the surface. Undoubtedly, it was a badge of the Hensia Artifact Hunter’s League, but was it that man's badge?

One of those stains looked suspiciously like blood…

“Fuck ya looking at?” The thug leaned in closer, jutting out his lower jaw. “Hensia’s got dis-cri-mi-na-to-ry practices now or somethin’? Speak the fuck up, man!”

“You don’t live in Hensia, do you? I’m not certain where you got this badge from, but we’re issuing temporary licenses as well, so i-”

“Oh, this is RICH!” The thug snatched the badge out of the man’s hand, stuffing it into his pockets before pushing pass. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about, but what I do know is that my badge is 100% clean! Go piss someone else off!” Without stopping, the red-haired youth powered on through…only to stop at the small crowd that had formed for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

One…two…three…yeah, that’s more than what he’s willing to count up to. And with that tincan over there, there’s not a rat’s ass in hell that anyone could double up with him anyhow.

“Dunno what sorta clown shit y’all are up to, but those elevators aren’t gonna fit much more than tinman there. Get gone or step aside, yea?”

He spat off to the side, then strode right towards the group. Either they’d part or he’d shoulder past; Oribara didn’t give a fuck right now.
When did you plan on closing submissions anyhow, Ink?
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