The Wild Masks

Ch 12

Chapter Thirteen
The Calm

“Mmmnn.”

The alarm didn’t care.

Groaning, Kohaku slung one hand across the edge of her bed and slammed it on the alarm clock to shut it up. As she eventually rolled off her mattress and dragged herself across the room, she decided to make a detour from her path to the restroom and open the curtain leading to her apartment balcony. Cracking open the sliding door, she groggily breathed the reportedly fresh air.

“Okay, so first off, this was not my idea-”

“GAAAH WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?!”

“Uh,” Rook replied, slowly peering around the open door at the now flung onto the floor in shock Kohaku as her body remained in its defensive position, albeit horizontally. “Ren got spooked that something might happen to you, so he made me sit out here all night. Sorry.”

“Why would he just-?” Kohaku stared in repulsion at the air in front of her before forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, so he got panicky and decided to send you over to what, watch the stars?”

“Uh, I think I recall kicking a man through part of a train station to protect you.” Rook would’ve raised an eyebrow if he had one to spare. “If those lunatics were willing to do something so drastic in public places, Ren had to assume they’d try something while you were alone.”

“What about the rest of you?” Kohaku grumbled, slowly pulling herself to her feet as she felt her spine. “Shouldn’t you all be watching each other?”

“…You want to maybe talk after you’ve woken up?” Rook tipped his head to the side. “Y’know, freshen up, have some coffee, maybe change out of what passes for pajamas in this apartment building, stuff like that.”

"Oh so now you’re also judging my style?" Kohaku scowled, pressing her knuckles into her hips at the sheer audacity of Rook deciding to question her drab combination of tank top and sweat pants. “And what do you wear when you go to bed and don’t care what people think?”

“Nothing. I have no physical body and am unable to sleep, and even the facsimile I possess holds but a sliver of the senses I used to enjoy. I can barely even feel the ground under my feet, or the cold at night, and am constantly experiencing a dead and empty world which I can no longer truly interact with.”

“Which reminds me,” Rook turned away, having delivered his depressing monologue with the same casual, friendly attitude that he approached the rest of the conversation. “Ren asked me to send this over. No clue what it is, but he said he’d be around to pick it up after the weekend. Told me not to open it, and I hope you won’t either.”

"Uuh… ttthhhhanks." Kohaku apprehensively accepted the package, slowly overcoming her reaction to Rook’s sudden deep and compelling backstory. “It’s kinda big… What exactly does he own that’s the size of a microwave? Unless-” Her face grew a little devious. “If I keep this, will he able to make any food? He doesn’t know how to cook, does he?”

“I think I’m going to leave before I become an accomplice.” Rook drew his shoulders to his neck and stepped off the balcony, floating in midair. “If I could eat I suspect I would be offended, but whether it’s more the food he makes or the shenanigans you’re planning I’m not sure.”

“Take care of yourself, stranger.” Kohaku drew two finger guns, one from underneath the box she held. “Let him know I’ll be saving fish tails for when he gets back to work.”

“Yes, he’s doing alright.”

“No, I don’t know if he’s said anything to his classmates.” Tone sighed, leaning on the edge of the rooftop. “I’ve told you before, my mask powers only work one way. And if I can’t see who I’m talking to it doesn’t do much good to send signals, now does it?”

“What do you mean why does that matter?” Tone snarled. “Because maybe I don’t want to pop somebody’s ear drum by mistake, that’s why! Or tell everyone in the area what I’m trying to quietly relay! Did you actually have anything to say or are you just calling to waste my time?”

He covered his entire face with one of his gloved hands. “Yes, I’ll make sure Corey picks up milk on the way back. And some of that disgusting chocolate, sure. You want me to start making a list, or do you plan on running out of credit cards some other way?”

“I think you know exactly why I’m so irritable today.” Tone growled, abruptly hanging up the call and stuffing the phone back into his jacket. “Ren Fukushi. You’d think he’d be able to come up with something more original than THAT.

“Trouble, friend?” A voice sounded behind him, causing Tone to flinch at his apparent discovery.

“Nah,” Tone shrugged, slowly slipping a pair of binoculars out from the inside of his jacket. He had rehearsed something like this enough times to have it come naturally to him. “Been tracing that stupid bird half a mile. Er, point-eight kilometers, roughly. If it would just head back to its nest…”

“Then it would be so much easier to poach, wouldn’t it?” The voice carried with it a devious smile.

Tone was on his feet in the blink of an eye, trying to decide whether or not to violently rush the figure that now menaced him. He stood several paces away, hands in his pockets, a scowling and pointed wooden mask covering his eyes. “Now, now, no need to be so jumpy, Tone.” His permanent grin flashed. “And there’s no need to blast out my eardrums or anything like that. I’m not here to fight.”

“I’m hardly about to believe that.” Tone growled, his mind racing over what kind of escape options were available to him. “You’re here to kill me, leaving Corey defenseless, and then go after Ren-”

“Nobody knows I’m here.” The stranger replied, gliding forward across the roof, wavering up and down ever so slightly, his feet dragging against the loose stones atop the building. “I’ve been trying to fly about in inconspicuous areas and get that sort of flight pattern your Rook guy has, but I just can’t keep a continuous rate of speed at an exact angle like that. Pretty annoying.”

He stopped at the edge of the building, looking down at the school while Tone eyed him with the utmost suspicion. “I know why you’re hesitating. You doubt you can actually take me on, especially here, with the whole world watching.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Tone mumbled in reply. “You here to make small talk?”

“The orders were to do nothing, so I’m doing nothing.” The stranger shrugged. “I’m not one of the ones coming up with the two plans, so I’m not exactly involved enough to stay entertained.”

Tone slowly turned his head towards the stranger, but before he could comment the grinning fiend elaborated. “The current idea is to have two plans of retaliation going at the same time, and in that way be much harder to predict.” He looked down at Rook, away from the side of the school. “But honestly, that’s just too boring. It’s much more interesting if you have a way to counteract everything we’re going to do.”

"“But then you’ll lose.” Tone inquired.

“Nobody said anything about that,” the stranger replied, his grin almost seeming sentient. “I’ve seen that mask in action; I know its blind spots. We’ll be able to sneak through unless you can keep up.”

“You’re just selling out your side for a little entertainment?”

The stranger turned back to the window, Tone eventually following his gaze. Inside was Corey, seated backwards in a chair, his chin resting on his folded arms, listening in the most bored fashion to another student yap on and on about something or other.

When Tone finally looked back at the stranger, he was gone.

“I’m just saying, it would really help if you actually knew Japanese and could narrate both timeslots of your program…”

Race flatly rotated her eyeballs towards Fumihito as she held a hairpin in her teeth, balling up her hair behind her head to place it in a sloppy bun. “Of course, you’re not about to lose your job because you can’t, but it would be so much more efficient-”

“LIVE IN ONE!!” The camera crew called out.

“I appreciate your concern for my position, but if I can’t keep my job by doing it, then I’m evidently not the best choice for it.” Race sighed, snapping her fingers at the loitering janitor as she walked towards the news set. “It’s only a matter of time until solely English-speaking newscasters are phased out for multilingual ones, anyhow, so I’m not overly concerned by it.”

“It’ll happen when it happens.” She mumbled as she strode off, taking her place in front of the camera. Fumihito sighed, leaning against the wall with a clipboard eternally present in his hand as the live broadcast light turned on.

“Good afternoon. As the topics being discussed on this news bulletin are graphic in nature, we strongly advise viewers not tune in to the next half hour of broadcast if they find the topics of death, mutilation, and beheading to be unpleasant.” Race droned, as Fumihito gripped his forehead in frustration.

“On monday this week police discovered the battered bodies of several members of the criminal yakuza organization Koi Blood recognized by their identifying koi tattoos in various shades of red. While the cause of death is being debated, this station reported the apparent suicide of these individuals on the scene shortly after its estimated occurrence, as the bodies were found inside a minivan which had been violently driven into a tree. Police investigation has found the cause of death to be violent bruising across the body, including the head, neck, and internal organs leading to unconsciousness and death shortly after.”

“However, on monday night police also discovered the as of yet unidentifiable body of a foreigner which they believe to be directly tied to the yakuza deaths. The victim was found on a side street in the suburb area of Gotanda, his head apparently having been ‘exploded from the inside’, reports claim. The only identifiable marks that could be found on the body were some skin sections, which have been identified as having been painted red prior to death, and a few strands of hair.”

“Some apparent obstacles to identifying the victim have presented themselves, including the lack of fingerprints, having been apparently burned to be unrecognizable by exposure to heated metal, several years before the incident. More details at seven.”

Fumihito shook his head, and turning around, caused the loitering janitor to jump and begin cleaning up after Race.

“Don’t hurt yourself, kid.” Fumihito chuckled, sending a backhand slap at the janitor’s shoulder. “Work around here shouldn’t be too hard. You just keep yourself busy for a few days, long as you need really; anything for a friend of a friend, y’know?”

“Yes, sir.” Ren smiled, exhaling deeply as Fumihito wandered off to go micromanage some other aspect of his job. Race’s tired eyes sent the leader of the Wild Masks a weary glance as she departed the set.

Ch 14

7 Likes
And you wish it was your song Well buddy I've got a deal for you please give me all your money And let me hang out with your mom

I should’ve shared it with you long ago :pensive:

Next chapter :smirk:

:dizzy_face:

And you call yourself a theorizer :triumph:

:dizzy_face:

Ren really needs to upgrade to the racing video game model which fixes itself after every major crash

:sunglasses:

The answer is haha Rook you get to fly home alone because nobody likes you ahaha :smirk:

Whaaaaaaaat I don’t know what you mean :eyes::sweat_drops:

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm :smirk:

a puzzler indeed

I cannot confirm or deny allegations of :goo:

Happens to the best of us :pensive:

Whaaaaaaaat I don’t know what you mean :eyes::sweat_drops:

me fr

idk man don’t ask me

cringe :triumph:

4 Likes

Yippee I’m 2 chapters behind again.

5 Likes

Ch 13

Chapter Fourteen
Symptoms

“I still don’t know why this is happening on a Wednesday.”

Ren sidled into his seat, holding a bag of popcorn in each hand. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, why isn’t this happening on a weekend instead of in the middle of the week?” Kohaku replied, gesturing downwards with splayed fingers. “You’d think they’d have this on a day when more people are likely to attend.”

“Because on the weekend they have real baseball players in here,” Ren shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth mid-sentence. “Instead of all these kids running about that don’t even know how to play. I could do a better job than any of them and I don’t even play baseball.”

“Corey is literally there right now!!” Kohaku’s jaw sank into the floor again. “It seems to me like he’s doing just fine, mister Fukushi!”

At the same moment, Corey struck a foul that zipped directly towards Ren’s face. Barely flinching, he snatched the ball out of the air, and gestured to the in-stadium camera about how totally definitely enthused and not at all bored he was at his sudden catch. The crowd applauded his maneuver while Corey looked away sheepishly.

“H… How did you-”

“I’ve been using my mask for several years now.” Ren eyed the ball as he spoke, feeling the rough seams running across it. “And Wild always told me, the more you use a mask, the more it becomes inherent. It’s how he always stayed in perfect shape despite never working out; his mask pushed his body to its greatest limits, maximizing his physical potential.”

“…And yours…?” Kohaku’s eyebrow was raised in curiosity.

“Similar to his, but more specialized.” His eyelids squinted for a moment as a play was called, causing an argument between the two teams. “My mask lets me operate at my maximum potential in every way, meaning I’m working at peak efficiency, whereas Wild’s was on a purely muscular level. His didn’t affect his mind.”

“Meaning that it makes you sharper.” Kohaku tapped her chin. “Let’s see… Ah, because you need all the help you can get, I assume.”

“Maybe you need it if it takes you that long to think of a dig.” Ren smirked. "Although I wouldn’t recommend it, honestly. The feeling of your mind speeding up and operating so much faster is incredible, but taking the mask off… It’s crushing." He looked down at the baseball as his brow crinkled. “It feels like someone’s taking a chunk out of your brain every time, like you’re being robbed of your thoughts.”

The silence dragged on for almost a whole minute. “You didn’t come here to watch Corey play.”

“No, I still would’ve come.” Ren sighed, looking back up at the game. “But right now there’s an experienced group of mercenaries after our heads, and while I have to be here, my mind is just about everywhere else. What if they’re in the grandstands, watching everything that’s happening, trying to take one of us out?”

“You thought about that before coming here.” Kohaku frowned. “You knew the risks to keeping up an appearance like this before you arrived. And you decided it was worth it in the end. So don’t give me that attitude about it, Ren Fukushi.” She jabbed a finger almost directly into his face. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Yeah.” Ren mumbled, staring down into the field as the conflict between the teams turned into a brawl and several of the adults sitting aside rushed in to break it up. “I just hope we’re able to find some peace under these circumstances. Never know when someone might be watching, is all.”

The pair continued to watch the game in silence for a moment more, as several rows behind them watched two careful eyes, masked behind perfectly round sunglasses, as their owner softly nibbled on popcorn of his own. “What’s the rest of your group up to?”

“Oh, them?” Ren instantly relaxed, ignoring Corey’s cries of pain from being hit on the arm by a flying bat. “Rook and Race are flying out to Hong Kong briefly to do some checking-up on a hunch I wanted followed. Tone insisted he’d be able to take care of himself, and well, you don’t argue with Tone.”

“I said, junkie,” Tone growled, shoving the poor kid into a locker, which buckled under the impact. “This is my station, and until I hear otherwise, that means you keep out of it, capiche?”

“HEY!!” A growling voice boomed behind him. “Let him go and get OVER here! I’m not putting up with your disrespect towards my people.”

“There you are,” He hissed, dropping the youth and marching up to the somewhat obese man who challenged him. “Mind explaining to me why this sleaze is confiscating all of my gear? I pay good money to rent this place out, Shinsuke, and I’m not going to put up with this kind of nonsense!”

"YOU??" Shinsuke roared. “You listen HERE, MISTER HOT-SHOT!! WHEN I WANT YOU CLEARED OUT I DON’T ASK FOR PERMISSION FROM YOUR MOTHER!! You’re not putting on another act here AS LONG AS I LIVE!!”

Don’t get loud with Me, Shinsuke.” Tone growled.

“I’ll do what I please.” He exhaled, scratching the back of his ear. “But my word is final, and I expect it followed. You’re out. You’re a bum, and I don’t want to see you around here ever again.”

“That all you have to say?” Tone scowled, pointing an accusing finger at the shorter man, but taking extra care to angle his thumb off to the side. The shorter man quickly blinked twice, prompting him to angle his thumb inwards instead.

“All for you.” The man felt at his throat. “Oh, one other thing. There’s a magazine 'said they want to do an interview with you, some cheap place high up in the north, some place called Taruki.”

“Not helpful.” Tone crossed his arms. “You’re just trying to goad me into leaving in a rush so you can throw all my stuff away like the garbage you are.”

“WHY YOU-” The man bellowed, but caught himself as he felt at his throat again. “If I wasn’t on medication right now I’d sock you so hard you’d pop out the roof. I’d hit you right through the RAFTERS, you big lummox!” The man growled, gesturing violently with his tensed arm.

Got him.” Tone whispered, and slid his hands into his pockets.

"YAAAAAAAHHHGH!!!" The figure wailed, falling off of the rafters in the back corner of the gym and smashing into a pile of sandbags at the bottom. Tone walked over at a casual pace, the man following nervously at his heels. As they neared the figure, he reached out his hand suddenly, but cried out in pain again and gripped at his ears as his body shrunk closer to the fetal position.

“I suspect the tinnitus will go away in a day or two,” Tone mused, walking up to the sandbag pile with a smug attitude. “But unless you want things to become awfully unpleasant for you in the next ten seconds, I’d start by telling me who you are and what you’re trying to accomplish.”

“P-Pakka,” The figure winced, trying to stand but finding sitting down on the pile much more convenient, especially after Tone’s hand roughly shoved him into the position. “I have a message for you from the Pangolins.

“Didn’t even ask you that yet.” Tone sounded surprised, glancing at Shinsuke briefly. “Okay, what’s the message, then? And if involves any kind of bodily harm against him, expect it repaid in much more than full.”

“I didn’t intend to actually hurt him,” Pakka almost whimpered. “But I had to get him to call you, and it was the only way to convince him to help.” He gestured towards Shinsuke with his head, and he in reply reached to the back of his neck, removing a toothpick placed against it.

“…You serious?” Tone sarcastically replied, snatching the toothpick away and snapping it in his fingers. “I hope you had a backup plan, because right now you’re looking even more incompetent than Shinsuke here.”

Before Shinsuke got the opportunity to be properly offended at the comment, the toothpick rebuilt itself, flying into the open fingers of Pakka. “I had to demonstrate a little to get him to listen.” Tossing it upwards, the toothpick reinserted itself back into one of the rafters. “I’m sorry, mister Shinsuke.”

“Not sorry enough.” Tone growled, clenching his fists. “I should have known there’d be more of you mask-wearing lunatics in that group. The Pangolins, huh? Makes sense for a bunch of overly-defensive rodents.

They’re not rodents.”

Shut up. Now listen, Pakka.” Tone cracked his knuckles, wincing as he did so. “That mask you’ve got on, I’ll be needing it. You’re going to hand it over, just like that, no questions asked. Or, I’m going to blow your eardrums out. It’s your choice, of course.” He extended his gloved palm towards the huddled figure of Pakka, gesturing for him to relinquish it.

“I wonder,” Pakka wearily replied, slowly slipping back his hood to reveal the dark mask intertwined directly into his bark-like skin. “How you intended for me to remove it?”

“Kōhī?”

Race waved away the stewardess with a very impolite air. It couldn’t be helped; if she hadn’t reserved the window seat and occupied it as thoroughly as she had, someone else might have been able to see out of it.

Her passenger was rather obliging, as well; from the moment the plane took off, he had remained fast asleep, although perhaps this was due less to his polite desire for slumber and more to the sleeping pills she had dumped in his drink at the airport lobby.

Taking the magazine out of the window momentarily, she peered out at the blue sky, where a pair of equally blue eyes turned to look at her in turn. Rook was sitting on the wing of the plane, traveling at the same speed as the aircraft, and looking rather bored while doing it.

Quietly Race returned the magazine, prompting an inaudible sigh from Rook as he turned back towards the clouds, wondering how in the world he ever got talked into this in the first place.

“Sono noizu o tometekudasai!” The older woman hollered, smashing her broom against the door. “Damaranaito keisatsu o yobuzo!”

With a groan the character descended from his position, crawling across the floor to the open laptop, and with considerable resignation paused the audio which had been playing. He continued to sigh with increasing degrees of violence until there was a knock at the door.

“Whozit?” He inquired.

“Pakka,” The voice outside answered. “And you better let me in, it’s awfully suspicious for me to be out here.”

With some grumbled words of contempt the occupant shuffled across the floor, hoisting himself up with some difficulty to the doorknob and unlatching it. He had barely cracked it open before Pakka slipped in, slamming it shut behind him.

"Boss," He breathed, then looked around at his new surroundings in confusion. “Uh… You get a gardener in here recently? Little overgrown, it seems.”

“Maybe I like it that way.” The occupant grumbled, shuffling across the floor and propping himself in a backless armchair, one of the few things in the room not smothered by vines, leaves, and other sorts of plantlife. “You look a bit shaken up, Pakka. What happened?”

“This guy, from the group we’re after-”

WE are not after them.” The occupant of the lush apartment replied, placing his two-fingered hands together. “I thought I made that clear, Pakka; we are only doing this for Rikuto Kumagai. Nothing else matters here.”

“It’s getting a little more personal than that.” Pakka rubbed one of his ears through his hoodie. “Oisim- uh, Mister Makuei, he asked me to get Tone kicked out of that wrestling thing he’s a part of. Went there and made some vague threats to the owner, Tone showed up like clockwork after he got the word, had a bit of an angry showdown with the owner and WHAM! Hits me with the loudest noise I’ve ever heard.” His expression grew injured at the memory of it.

“Yes, yes, but then what? Did you hurt anybody?”

“No!” Pakka swiped his hand off his ear in frustration. “He corners me, demands to know who I am and what I’m doing there. I tell him the Pangolins sent me-”

"You what??" The figure started forwards, causing Pakka to flinch away in response, but immediately collected himself and resettled into his seat. “…I see. Then what?”

“Well, after I tell him that, he asks what the message was, but I never end up telling him. See, he asks how I threatened the owner, and I tell him about the splinter, the uh — I threatened him with a splinter at the back of his neck — anyway, he knows it’s my mask and demands I hand it over, and I show him how it’s, y’know… Attached.”

“And?”

“He froze. It was like talking to a statue for two whole minutes.” Pakka rubbed his opposite arm. “When he finally moved again, he kinda looked at the ground for a minute, then turned and walked off. Like he just gave up or, or something.” He looked around anxiously. “Why do you have to keep it so humid in here?”

“I like it.” The figure spat, tapping his limited fingers together. “Anything else?”

“I… I’d like it… Tonight, if it’s not too much trouble…”

“What.” The figure leaned forwards with an incredulous air. “Are you actually serious right now? While we’re in the middle of all this nonsense?”

“P… Please…?”

The figure gave a massive groan, his cadence implying that his peculiar head was about to explode. “All right, fine. You had better appreciate me handing these sessions out like candy to you; I don’t exactly make any money off of them.”

“Thank you, master Odgu,” Pakka began in earnest, but the figure cut him off with a raise of his hand. “Just Odgu. And if you decide in the middle of this that you’ve had enough, say something this time. Alright? I don’t want you to end up worse as a result.”

Pakka didn’t answer. His hands slowly drifted to his hood and lowered it, revealing his masked head with its bark-like consistency. Odgu slowly dismounted his seat, waddling over to the middle of the room and slowly placed his oblong head against Pakka’s. “I’m thinking you can start paying me back in takeout food. Hard to get things delivered up here on my own. There’s a real good place couple blocks from here,” His red eyes lit up with enthusiasm as his head disengaged from Pakka’s momentarily. “It’s got Greek, Italian, not really authentic of course but it-”

“Okay, afterwards.” Odgu relented after seeing Pakka’s tired glare, returning his head to its position before producing a low, harmonic sound, interrupted in stretches by a hissing pause, the room slowly drowning out in a buzzing, pulsating hum.

Ch 15

7 Likes

In this chapter we learn that even bad guys get afraid :pleading_face:

Curious to see what the ultimate TWM Theorizer has to say about this one (and anyone else that has theories, too :smirk: [I’m looking at you buddy :eye: :eye:])

6 Likes

I think the mask bark guy might be Pakari

I’ve got my hunches on the other guy but I think I’ll wait for the professional before disclosing anything

7 Likes

The ultimate The Wild Masks Theoriser (man that’s a mouthful) is dead for now (read: is on holiday and spends quality time with his family)

N01, Cordax, Rukah can you guys take my place until I return? :smirk:

6 Likes

you see, that would require being caught up with the book :sunglasses:

I will try my hardest :saluting_face:

5 Likes

May I?

So this now seems that these guys maybe will be the second attack at the wild masks that Oisim and the rest of his group discussed. Also it looks like that he has specific plans for Tone, having told him about the second plan and for whatever reason trying to get him out of wrestling which there could be a few reasons for this though I can’t think of any amazingly clever ones.

I also think that @GoodGuy2006 will be seen.

5 Likes

I hope you realize that while I appreciate you making the wise decision to prioritize your family and not waste your entire life on the Boards at all times, that I will continue to post chapters

Can’t stop the book just because of one user I’m afraid :disappointed:
read it to your family :goo: (this is a joke don’t do something so insane)

Third group? :thinking:

3 Likes

Excuse me, are you implying that I am implying that I’m expecting you to stop the book because of me?

Kinda cringe ngl :triumph:

Which you are, of course. Right? :dizzy_face:

That’s what I like to see :sunglasses:

4 Likes

By that I mean pakka and the other guy.
Not like group like the wild masks I just assume that they will be the second plan to attack the Wild Masks.
Wouldn’t be my post if I didn’t choose odd wording

3 Likes

POV: you’re a Wild Masks chapter that hasn’t been theorised about and NOTaHFfan is online:

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1187759674909536327/1235938706897240164/IMG_5875.gif?ex=6636311e&is=6634df9e&hm=865ea0f3528ba267380ae7b7d2c6e9e2b4609dc8cbabcd72e8683612b21c5778&

I think it’s about time to continue this virtual insanity :smirk:

Tonight on Top Gear:
I get the job of a cleaning manager (I mop floors)
James assaults an innocent man
And Hammond watches a woman sleep

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner Sometimes I feel like my only friend

Not many actually know this, but the F in NOTaHFfan stands for Fraud :smirk:

Relatable

Uh I mean cringe :triumph:

Why’d you quote the same thing twice :face_with_raised_eyebrow:

Your honour it was an accident I swear

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1187759674909536327/1235941539138502748/IMG_5668.gif?ex=663633c1&is=6634e241&hm=8dc9e1e5c4378c5185aea7720c520ec3c734e31fbec5661116da0d27f30d8cae&

You know who you’re talking to, what else did you expect? :smirk:


Chapter thrhrhrhrhhrohrohrohrohr

I see my Kohaku drawing has been partially canonised :smirk:

Hehe. This is funni out of context

Me when my friend asks me “how are you doing?” (For the record, I would never actually say something so depressing. I’d hide it and pretend to be happy) :smirk:

Ren doesn’t even own an air fryer :smirk:

For the record, I can actually cook, I just use the microwave mostly because I simply don’t have the time I swear :sob:

Now wait a second. I think this is implying that Ren Fukushi is not his real name, just as I suspected.

Unless Tone is referring to something that Ren told him in that phone call, of course.

What a gigachad.

Is bored
Finds his enemy
Relays their whole plan to him for the funny
Refuses to elaborate
Leaves

Yooooo the fabled off screen tree incident

I am assuming that Ren is at Race’s work because they decided that it’s dangerous to leave any member of the Masks by themselves.

Also, in one of prior chapter the sniper guy from the enemy group got ordered to ambush (?) Race’s work. I’m guessing that this is not happening anymore because they decided to lay low for now…


Chapter fr fr

Not the kind of baseball chapter that I expected, but it still works I suppose :smirk:

Ren mask power reveal. It’s more or less what I expected.

So, while all other masks allow their users to increase one of their stats to a superhuman extent or give them new abilities that they otherwise don’t have, his mask increases all of his stats at once, but still within limits of human physiology, without making him superhuman…

So, if using masks for extended periods of time leads to their users partially inheriting their powers, even without wearing the masks themselves, how does that apply to masks like Rook’s, Corey’s and Tone’s?

:smirk:

What a funny way to save half of the money on a flight :smirk:

@Pakari

I wonder if this guy is the same person as the hunchback from the bad guy meeting from a couple chapters back? Him seemingly having a messed up appearance seems to match :thinking:

And he seems to be working under Rikuto, who I already suspected being alive. And it was implied in that chapter that the hunchback was a part of Rikuto’s org as well. So it all seems to match up.

And I wonder if the Pangolins is the name of group of assassins that Oisim, Tengu mask and round glasses are a part of. But Pakka himself seems to be too weak to be a part of it himself, so it’s probably something else…

Hey you’re right :smirk:

sigh okay fine :unamused:

Odgu is obviously GoodGuy2006 :unamused: :unamused: :unamused:

I can neither confirm nor deny allegations that @GoodGuy2006 has already been seen in the latest chapter :smirk:

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I suspected as much

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i waddled :blush:

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Ch 14

Chapter Fifteen
Diagnosis

“Ren.”

The leader of the wild masks held up a hushing finger for a moment as he finished downing the entire pitcher of filtered water. “What’s up?”

Ren calmly and reasonably responded to the revelation that the blanket draped across his shoulders like a royal robe had been dragged through the watercolor paint kit on the floor and now had a streak of smudged colors running through the tail end of it by almost screaming and gripping at the decorated portion with a look of the utmost anguish plastered across his features.

“That.” Tone sighed, walking around the distraught Ren and picking up the dropped pitcher, returning it to its rightful place in the refrigerator. “Corey’s going to be mad when he finds out you don’t have any appreciation for his school projects.”

“Was leaving all the watercolors out on the floor part of it?” Ren grumbled, rubbing his hand over the decorated portion of his blanket in an attempt to remove it.

“He’ll just have to cite your cuddle rag as extracurricular.” Tone chuckled, earning the glare of all glares from Ren in retort. “Which reminds me, aren’t you due at the tailors sometime today?”

“Right,” Ren grumbled, balling up the blanket and tossing it into the bedroom. “If he’s going to be a wild mask he’s going to have to look the part. In the meantime, see if you can come up with a game plan for approaching testing out the mask while we’re gone; I want to be able to anticipate any future movements on the Pangolin’s part.”

What a dumb name.” Ren sorted through a pile of unfolded laundry, picking out his attire while Tone scratched at his chin. “Literally anything would’ve been better than Pangolins for a group name.”

“Whatever you say, you Renegade.” Tone’s implied grin was ginormous.

“Shush.” He held up a cautionary finger as he stooped to grab a dropped sock. “If you have a problem with the naming scheme you can go exhume Wild and ask him to change it in the past so it sounded cooler from the beginning. I’ve got to dress; I should be around to pick up Corey sometime tonight.”

With those words he closed the bathroom door and began bellowing out his hatred for a particular section of the dividing wall, which he ungraciously rammed his toe into. Pausing for a moment, Tone walked across the room and hesitantly looked inside the open bedroom door.

After a moment, he slowly turned away, the wall cavity revealed by the bunk being down containing nothing at all.

“Keep still.” The gloved hand slowly touched the screwdriver. “It’s necessary for me to match your rhythm. All that squirming about is making my job harder.”

A glance was sent to one of the large silhouettes in the room, their featureless faces staring silently back at him. “You’ve got a real passion for this sort of thing, don’t you? Making people that don’t exist. Do they work for you, or do you find it too amoral to abide by that?”

The man said nothing, partially because he had no real motivation to respond and partially because of the state of shock he was in. Another part of his reasoning may have been the screwdriver lodged deep into his chest, vibrating in tune with every beat of his heart.

“You know what it’s like to be in time with everything in the universe?” The gloved man continued, his fingertips touching the base of the screwdriver as he kept the rhythm going. “Everything has a rhythm, a time it is kept in, never failing to keep its own pace. If you can match that, you can do the impossible - predict any motion, move with any other. It’s why your attempt to stab me with this went so horribly, horribly wrong… For you, anyways.”

He gestured with his head towards the figures surrounding him. “You said that these things have ribs and lungs to mimic the rise and fall of breathing. But you didn’t mention that they have no rhythm. Even their components have lost their original rhythm. They aren’t powered by circuits or engines, and they’re incredibly resilient… I wonder, how is it that you made them?”

“Well, it’s not important.” He sighed as the man began to seize. “One last question and then I’ll let nature take its course. You mentioned a Kahn when you spoke with her; with Know gone, it’s hard for us to gleam who that is exactly. Care to enlighten me?”

“Bummer.” He sighed, standing back up and adjusting his bright red suit. “That’s all she wrote, I guess.” He turned his gaze back towards the frames surrounding him, and removing the screwdriver from the body of its host, he scratched two lopsided circles on the slab face of the largest one.

“That’ll help you see better.”

“Yuengyeung?”

Race slowly tipped her sunglasses down in the direction of the stewardess. “That have kōhī?”

The stewardess nodded eagerly, but her face fell as Race waved her away, returning to the magazine she had been mostly pretending to read. With a dejected look the stewardess returned to report that the one passenger still refused to purchase anything.

Discretely, Race tipped the magazine in the window out of the way in order to observe Rook, who was poking at the bolts in the wing at various speeds. She smiled slightly; nothing had gone wrong. Perhaps the Pangolins truly were keeping away, as the flying member of their crew had claimed.

Rook suddenly looked up, and Race met his gaze politely, only realizing a moment after he had not been focused on her. As he turned towards the front of the plane, Race got the impression from the split second before fire enveloped the window that something had just entered the engine.

“Well, how does it feel?”

Corey looked at the back of his legs, the cuff of his suitpants just touching his sneakers. “It’s like my school uniform, but better. Did you actually drop half your month’s salary for this?”

“It’s not like you’re going to be doing any of the fighting.” Ren shrugged. “I think I can afford to splurge a little when it comes to your official wild masks attire.”

“I guess,” Corey mused, still looking the outfit over. “It would just make much more sense if we got something a little cheaper. So we can afford to buy food 'n all.”

“Hey, c’mon, we’re not that poor.” Ren ushered him along with a slight push to the shoulder, trying to decide if that comment was meant as an insult or just an observation. “I’ve got to get you back to the apartment so I can keep up appearances at the news station. Race and Rook are due back from Hong Kong today, and they’ll probably be back at the apartment in a couple hours.”

“Does that mean I’ll be trying out the mask today?” Corey’s body language acted exceedingly casual, but as he got into the passenger seat of the vehicle, his eyes gleamed with excitement.

“We’ve got to figure out what our enemies are planning while they’re not busy trying anything.” Ren started up the car, conveniently the exact same make and model of the one that had been totaled. “Consider this your first official mission as one of the wild masks.

The car slowly drove away, Corey rattling his seat in excitement. A curl of cigarette smoke licked over the brim of the wide hat.

Race picked her head up, slowly looking around. The entirety of the crew, the passengers, and what seemed like all of Tokyo from the volume of the screams, was in an absolute panic. Some passengers had begun to put on life vests, others had begun running about the plane in a frenzy. A glance out the window revealed Rook was gone, and so was most of the engine.

Fiddling with her seatbelt, she finally freed herself from the plane seat, and started dizzily making her way to the back of the plane. It swam with lights, the terrified noises of her fellow passengers, and more than once a panicked attendant smashed past her and knocked her to the ground. Before she could make it to the back, however, someone with one of the few parachutes threw the emergency door open, tearing it off in an instant and sucking several of the passengers outside.

The roar of the rushing wind made the situation inside even more intolerable. Race staggered, dropping to the ground after a moment, and waking up against one of the forward seats, with the plane at a steep angle. Looking up, the door was just aside her, and with an effort she pushed herself to the frame, clawed her way through, and let herself get thrown from the plane.

With the wind whipping around her, she was only barely aware of the pair of legs which slowly descended alongside her as Rook matched her falling speed, cradling her in his arms as he slowed their fall. “Are you alright, Race?”

What… What happened?” Race blinked, looking around. “The engine…”

“The water’s going to be cold.” Rook replied, forcing a life jacket over her. “I can set you down on some luggage, but you’ll have to share space with the other passengers. Some didn’t make it; they’re probably still floating about nearby. But I have to go, the plane’s about to hit the water, and there’s still people aboard.”

“Wait.” Race pressed her hand against Rook’s shoulder. “We can’t be seen here. We’re the Wild Masks. What if somebody-”

“You were registered as being on the flight; I’m the only one at risk here.” Rook replied, nearing the floating pile of suitcases and plastic containers housing most of the passengers, with the women and few children taking up nearly every available space on top and the men all treading water around it. “Talk to Ren as soon as you get rescued, he’ll have something figured out by then.”

No sooner had he set her down than he suddenly sped off, flying in a perfectly straight line towards the plane, which with a horrific roar smashed into the hard surface of the water. Despite the crying children surrounding her, Race felt as if the whole world had just gone quiet.

Ch 16

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I FINALLY got over my stupid writer’s block

bruh2

Anywho, death and murder :goo:

Tonight on Top Gear
I go clothes shopping
James gets the day off
And Hammond plays 52 pickup with audience participation

Howdy the Engineer's in the field Farmboy charm with a megaton yield

Not many actually know this, but the F in FNAF stands for Five Nights At Freddy’s

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm :smirk:

a puzzler indeed

image

haha what do you mean :eyes::sweat_drops:

You ate chicken nuggets last night and called it a meal :triumph:

which reminds me I found a brand of chicken nuggets which is almost entirely protein, I’ll have to see if they have it in europe (why are you up, anyway?)

I cannot confirm or deny allegations that there’s something sussy about his name

Bingo :goo:

we shall see :smirk:

Rook:

https://149362454.v2.pressablecdn.com/previously/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/anigif_enhanced-buzz-11407-1390589129-7.gif

Bingo :goo:

I cannot confirm or deny allegations that what do you mean messed up he looks perfectly fine

I guess we’ll have to wait until the next chapter to find out :smirk:

And much more soon :goo:

I advise anyone reading the books to keep an eye out for Odgu. He’ll be important soon :eye: :eye:

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Dang that plane scene was distressing

Cool chapter though

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Ghid knows about TF2 confirmed.

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I need to catch up

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