"They were only artists, my friend. Artists- an animator, actor, and a reporter- looking for a thrill, and stumblin' apon somethin' dangerous.
"One had the ideas, the other two would help bring em' to life, ya could say. The boy would write an indescriptive script, give characters random names, etcetera; or write an investigative article. The girl would take it and make it an animation, drawin' or book of some sort, sometimes changing the names of certain characters to add effect. And the third one, well... They were a skilled voice actor the two met online. No one knows who it could be but them.
"Well... One day, the trio announced a new animation. It was spose' ta be a comedic anime based on gang life, according to the previews.
"but.... The Russian mafia and the Yakuza both believed it was somethin' more. Somethin to expose them both.
"So now, they' runnin' for they' damn lives from two differen' mobs. Sounds like a novel, heh..."
The woman in a long black dress, black boots, leather jacket and black sun hat with a blue bow and earrings sighed, having told this story to someone she just met.
The other lady was sitting right next to her, wearing a red dress, high heels, and red earrings, just frowned. "Well that sounds sad for them, but... Why are you so worried about it?" The unknown woman asked the other, who smirked. "I might jus' know a thing er' two no buddy else does. That's why I'm here, hun, to barter info fer' info." She smirked, speaking in a thick indecipherable accent and about to light a cigarette when a short man walked over. The male sported a surprisingly bright colored floral shirt, a grey suite, black shoes and a clip-on tie.
"I thought we were here to see if they were on our tail still?" He asked, lowkey forgetting they were still inside the bar.
Epi facepalmed, blue earrings jingling as she moved into a protective position in front of Bun. At the exact same time, over half of the people in the bar aimed a gun at the two. "See, this is why you should look around before speaking." She scolded through grit teeth, now speaking in a more American (more specifically, northern Floridian) accent all of a sudden.
"Sorry!" Bun whispered, but the woman in front of him ignored him as she waited for the Russians first move. One of them smirked, sliding through the crowd.
A tall, buff, burly Russian man, obviously leader of this chapter of the mob, walked closer with an alarmingly confident grin...
How did they end up in this situation, you may ask?
Well, like she said...
They were only artists.
°^°
This is where we're starting Bun Bun.
Oh, by the way, in this au we're actually in our thirties--
And yeah, in this au I'm a smoker, though irl I'd never even touch a cigarette unless my life depended on it.
Oh, and one rule. We don't start with weapons, we gain them throughout the rp.
