Intro Log: May

[moustre]

Intro Log: May, Game Start

I. ARRIVAL Out of nowhere, a glint of light catches your eye; your heart thunders in your ears as your body moves on its own, your mind consumed with inspecting the source. Your reflection stares back at you, just as curious from the surface - a mirror, a pool of water, your most trusted sword, something fleeting that your mind can barely remember - then ripples at your touch. A moment later, you feel a tug, and you find yourself stumbling into a dark, musty room. Behind you, a mirror stands ornately decorated with reminders of home wrought in brass and wood: the faces of people you know, and symbols important to you; all things that send a pang through your chest with the desire to return to them. Touching the mirror's surface does nothing but leave the stain of your fingerprints. When you turn turn to survey the room, you find there are hundreds of other mirrors. None of them are as decorated as yours - they're plain and dusty, speckled with age. Then you realize a second thing: You're not alone. Distantly, the ringing bell of a clocktower can be heard. But no matter its distance, the time is clear to make out: it chimes three times, stark, resonating like a pulse of something in this mirrored hall that you and many others have found yourselves in. For those familiar with magic, they might feel the power of the witching hour upon them, though it will feel different from what they're used to - in fact, everything does. Besides the new arrivals, however, there's one more person in the building, and only one. A young teen stands; previously bored and mulish, he's now owl-eyed and slackjawed as he takes in each arrival, either from the mirrors or coming from another floor as you try to get your bearings. In his hands he's clutching a broom like a security blanket, until - "M... Miss Nessie! Miss Nessie, something's happened!" he yells, as he drops the broom and turns tail out of the building. Leaving the Looking-Glass House makes it obvious that the clock striking three was for 3 AM - the night sky is clear, but the stars are dim in the face of two moons, regardless of their waning crescent phases. Follow, or explore the rest of the mirrored halls you've now found yourselves in? The Looking-Glass House is rather nondescript two-story cottage made of grey brick, sitting at the edge of The Coven's courtyard; stones which glow as you step on them mark the path to and from the two buildings. While fairly small and plain on the outside, the inside has been enchanted to be the size of a large library, with hundreds upon hundreds of mirrors hanging, standing, and resting inside its walls. Some are broken, some are cracked, and some seem completely uninjured - but all of them are just as plain as the cottage itself, showing age in the silver beneath their glass and in the greening of their metals... Well, all except a character's personal mirror; to characters, one mirror - the one they came through - will be decorated lavishly with metal-and-wood-wrought reminders of home, and the surface will be as clear as a brand-new mirror.

II. "MISS NESSIE" Whether you've decided to follow the hapless young man, or decided to explore the rest of the Looking-Glass House - and perhaps finding a few familiar faces among the crowd - you feel a pull towards the foyer of the first floor. It's like a firm suggestion, as if to take you by the hand and draw you to where it begins, and the source of it becomes quite apparent upon finding one's way to the front room: a tall, comfortably-dressed older woman and her even taller wolfish companion. The woman covers her mouth with a soft "Oh my!" as she surveys those who begin to crowd in, and she turns to the werewolf (?), lowering her hand once more. (The handful of others who'd come with her peer as best they can from a ways behind her with unconcealed curiosity, closer to the door out than not. The boy previously seen before he ran off can be spotted at the very back of the group.) "This is right unexpected, isn't it?" She not-quite whispers, delight and confusion in equal measure in her voice. Her companion makes a quiet noise in her throat, unscarred eye narrowed - it's hard to tell if that delight is one shared by both parties. "Well, they've always said the veil is thinner during Boaltinn... We'll have to talk to James and see if he was doing anything other than cleaning, we will, but for now, we've got a full house to attend to, don't we? Ah, if they're all Witches, that'll be something, it will!" Without wasting another beat - much to the fond irritation of her companion, certainly - the woman turns back to the newcomers of Aefenglom, clapping her hands together in glee. "Well then! I'm certain you all have many, many questions... As do we! First thing's first, though, first thing's first! I am Nerissa Bell, the Head Witch of the Coven - that's where this house is located right now, on Coven grounds - and this is my Bonded, Mhairi Ainsley. Don't worry, she's a right softie despite her looks! You can simply call me Miss Nessie - everyone does, short of those stuffy folks up in the Parliament, but, well, that's just how things are with them, I suppose." She pauses a beat, for breath, before continuing with a wave of her hand; dozens of chairs and stools, all surprisingly comfortable despite their wooden looks, are conjured in an instant, and Nessie smiles wide as she gives a small bow. "Take a seat, and let's get familiar with one another for a spell! The city'll celebrate without us one way or another, and we've already finished our business for tonight anyway. Isn't that right, Mhairi dear?" Despite the onslaught of information and excitement at three in the morning, Mhairi inclines her head slightly after a huge sigh; her voice is likely exactly as expected, low and akin to a growl. "Best to take advantage of the distraction. Let's begin, before I have to report this to Parliament." NOTE: If you wish to interact with Nessie and Mhairi, please comment here. You have the option of handwaving the IC interaction to OOCly ask what questions your character might have for them, for us to summarize an answer for, or you can request an IC thread. Simply specify in your comment's subject and we'll respond accordingly.

III. THE COVEN After an hour or two of general chaos, questions that the natives attempt to help with, and injuries tended to for those who arrive in poor condition, a solution is presented. Though they certainly can't answer every question, Nerissa and Mhairi promise to help find the answers, and open the doors of the Coven to all new arrivals in the Looking-Glass House. The walk from the quaint cottage to the imposing structure ahead is lit only by magic provided by Miss Nessie and the Witches accompanying her, as well as the path of stepping stones coming aglow with each step that's taken across them. Beyond the courtyard, with its high, opalescent walls, a city can be seen. There are torches accompanying the flickering light posts outside, and the sounds of life clear even this far from the heart of Aefenglom, something that sounds like... merriment? Festivities are in full swing, even this close to dawn. The rest of the world continues on, even though you've arrived, confused and perhaps missing a few aspects of your usual persons. But while they certainly weren't expecting to spend the festival like this, the Coven has worked as quickly as it can. Their doors, decorated in cowslip flowers, are wide open - welcoming to the public, and to new arrivals as well. The Coven's main building has a surprisingly large front room, compared to its outside; the ceiling stretches ever onward, with stairs of the solidly-flush-against-the-wall variety and floating-ethereally-in-the-middle-of-things variety both. Magic and mundane intermingle as if meant to, with brooms inscribed with runes to clean making quick work of dirt and dust, shadowy figures opening and closing doors as people enter and exit, plates of snacks drifting around as if carried by invisible servers. The brooms are especially attentive to the door as new arrivals step in - they don't apologize for knocking into anyone, and really, anyone particularly scruffy will get swept at until the brooms are satisfied. None of this seems to mind the Witches coming in, with small murmurs of gratitude given to the busybody brooms instead of reprimands. Doors lead this way and that, on higher floors and on the ground floor, but runes glow by their frames in indecipherable patterns. Peculiar-looking devices - watches, the native Witches explain, compliments of Parliament - are passed around to all the new arrivals; they're given a quick rundown on their functions and bid to test them out when they can, and Nessie waits for things to calm before she steps up the floating stairs and addresses the room. "We'll see to it you all have lodgings for a bit, we will, but for now, the festival's still going on - if you couldn't tell!" She laughs a little, hands on her hips. "There's nothing we can do about things right now, so you might as well enjoy yourselves, you might. If any of you want to stay in 'til morning though, well, we can provide - just mind your manners, magic's real particular about them. At least," she winks, head tilting with the motion, "that's how I teach all my classes, it is." Those deciding to stay will be lead to doors that seem to follow no real pattern by native Witches; the rule is "two to a bed," so get cozy with the person next to you. They're the ones you'll be sleeping with tonight. The beds aren't too small - enough to accommodate at least three humans - and they're fairly comfortable too, for their old-looking age.

IV. BOALTINN For those who journey out into the city, they'll be sent off with a word of warning to keep out of trouble from Mhairi, to find everything still quite lively - and still quite unaware of what's taken place. There's very little left to the shadows, with dim light filling in the gaps between the flickering streetlamps and the extra candles and such people have put up themselves. Curiously, small bonfires seem to follow a pattern, culminating into a wide plaza in the center of the Residential District where a larger, brighter one burns, with people dancing around it, their clothing jingling softly with little bells hanging from their hems. The same is mirrored on the direct other side of the city - the only difference is in who's dancing. The Eastern Bonfire has more visibly humanoid beings enjoying themselves, while the Western Bonfire has creatures more monstrous in looks. Regardless, they all seem to be happy- And the reason is this: Boaltinn, a festival lasting the next two dusks. The nights and early mornings are filled with flickering firelight, while the morning and daytime have all but the small fires leading the way to the giant bonfires extinguished; the bonfires, however, stay lit. - and in general, it seems the city is quite happy, quite cheerful, and quite close. a. The Bonfires The main attraction of Boaltinn, as they are with any fire festival, the bonfires on each side of the city are tended to by various Monsters every hour of the day. While much of the scenes are similar - there's plenty of food to be shared, with those partaking in it cowed into sitting with someone else regardless of how familiar they might be, and children of all kinds play together and invite those sitting or watching to come too, in all manner of games, such as jacks, hopscotch, and running ribbons around the tall poles at the bonfires. But there are marked differences, too. The Eastern Bonfire primarily has humans or those that can pass as humanoid in attendance, and they're much friendlier to those who look similar to them; to those that look a little more monster-like, though, their replies are far more curt and their shoulders colder. The area around the bonfire is also littered with trinkets and baubles, all shiny and new and utterly forgotten by their playmates; the ribbon poles are similarly new, made professionally as if by commission. Characters are invited to try and jump through the bonfire's flames to burn away any poor relationship experiences, be it romantic or platonic, past or present; to aid them in this, those at the Eastern Bonfire will give those participating rune-etched accessories to protect them from the fire. Meanwhile, the Western Bonfire has primarily those who are more monstrous in looks, and they're similarly friendlier to those who resemble them, with a similar brusque and cold manner to those who look more human. The area around the bonfire is carefully kept clean, however, and the ribbon poles look handcrafted from lumber and grass, with tightly-woven knots and clumsily-made paper decorations. Those attending here are also invited to jump through the flames, but no such protection is offered; it's simply assumed that, as a Monster, you're likely much better at handling a little fire. b. A Little Entertainment It isn't only the bonfire celebrations that one can participate in, however. All throughout both the East and West Residential Districts, as well as a portion of the Shopping and Entertainment Districts, there's a number of stalls, stands, and stores available for perusal. Take a gander at the rest of the city and find something to do. Of note: Divination readings are available in various stalls, set up by Coven-official Witches as well as homegrown ones, with tarot cards that vary from pristine art pieces that one would almost hesitate to touch to the personally drawn and cut. They offer free readings, enticing all who pass by to join them at their table. Good or bad, the cards seem to bring with them lessons and words of wisdom, interpreted expertly by those handling them... or as expertly as possible; some readings seem a little unsure and muddy. Regardless of belief, those who take part in these readings will suddenly find their day going either exceptionally well or incredibly poor, depending on the overall feel of their reading. Carts and booths are available for one to partake in more food, however there's a stipulation to taking anything from these vendors: one must share this food with others, either in pairs or a group. While relations between humans and beasts seem to be a little frosty, they can be seen intermingling a tad more freely when it comes to this portion of the celebrations, sharing the treats and small meals that are being offered to everyone. The food available all seem to be those easy to hold in hand, not unlike modern-day food trucks; of note, the thin pancake wraps seem to be the most popular, with a bubbly drink similar to a milkshake filled to the brim with drinking straws for best sharing experience coming in second. Flavors are plentiful and varied, though they err closer to the fruits, vegetables, and spices side of the spectrum. Finally, the more pleasure-based businesses offer the chance to relax one's weary feet and take a chance with a little aromatherapy with their rose baths. While traditionally this had its roots in imbuing the bather with good tidings and blessings for the upcoming seasons (or so they'll say when asked), nowadays, it's simply become a luxury treatment for those needing a little TLC. The waters here do have the added bonus of making those who share them friendlier and more talkative with their partner(s) - and yes, all baths are a shared experience. Rather than being split by sex, baths are split by monster and human; co-ed bathing exists for those who don't mind mingling with the opposite species, and if really pressed, they can offer separate baths for different sexes, but their focus seems elsewhere. c. Impulsive Compulsion Throughout the whole festival, new arrivals, particularly those with magic talent gifted to them by the world, will feel like they can do anything and will push themselves to the limit. While not inherently detrimental, those who feel it will become more reckless, their inhibitions lessened and impulses heightened; trying new things is easy as pie, with any thoughts of fear left far in the back of their minds. While magic is highly discouraged on festival days, given their rest day quality, those under the spell of Boaltinn's madness will feel the temptation to try some anyway, regardless of knowing the proper way of performing it - perhaps it's about time to try out what one discovered in that strange dream... Those found doing magic will get a firm scolding, but no actual punishment; it's only looked down on, and they'll be cautioned against using too much. If any property damage occurs due to reckless magic use, however, there are fines; those without any money to their name can be recruited to pay it off by working at the buildings and stalls they may have accidentally damaged, serving people, looks, or whatever else the business might offer.

Welcome to the intro log! While mingling on the log itself is highly encouraged, feel free to make your own logs; take the prompts offered and go wild, go crazy, go stupid, have fun. The network system is free to use once characters have their watches as well; information on that can be found at the bottom of the Setting page, while any extra questions about it can be found in the FAQ index. Quests can be picked up now as well! While technically most of them won't start until after festivities, you can go ahead and put your name on some by replying to the May Quest Pickup thread on the Quest Board. Finally, if your character is getting into any Shenanigans, let the mods know and if you have any questions about the log, ask them here!

Comments

akira kurusu | persona 5 | ota

[scaling]

i. arrival

[ One moment, he's sitting quietly in the passenger's seat of Sae Niijima's car, watching the scenery flash by, a blur behind the ghost of his reflection—the next, Akira is stumbling onto his feet, wrapped up in a dark, stale atmosphere that almost reminds him of the first time he stepped into Leblanc's attic.

Except this is definitely not the attic. The room is vast and crowded, packed with murmurs of confusion that echo the tangle of his own thoughts.

There's a small ruckus as the young man with the broom darts out the building, part of the pack filtering after him, but Akira lingers, drawn to the mirror closest to him. While there's no sign of the blinding speck of light that caught his eye in the window, the intricate frame is a collage of familiar faces: Ann, Ryuji, Morgana, Yusuke, Futaba... everyone from Tokyo. The other mirrors appeared plain at first glance, but now that Akira tears his eyes from the artwork, he can see a few others observing theirs with the same strange look in their eyes.

He settles his attention on the nearest. ]

... Does yours look different, too?

iii. coven

[ The Coven is a trove of strange magic and stranger sights. But this one... might garner a double take even here.

Akira barely makes it through the door before one of the brooms zeroes in on him. At first he thinks maybe it's his uniform, which hasn't seen the best time over the past 24 hours. Being locked in a room for an extended period of time and beaten doesn't lead to the tidiest look.

That doesn't quite seem to be the concern, though—the broom sweeps its bristles rather abruptly over his head, as if trying to flatten his unruly mess of hair. When the first pass doesn't work, it tries again... and again, more vigorous than the last. ]

That's not—

[ Maybe you've just been whacked by the wayward handle of this busy busy broom, or perhaps you caught Akira's eye through the crowd milling around. Either way, he probably looks like he could use a hand. ]

iv. boaltinn

[ The familiarity of it may have been what drew him in, but these baths aren't quite like the ones back in Yongen-Jaya. They might be better, actually, without the presence of any iron-skinned old men running the hot water until everyone inside is at risk of being boiled alive.

It's not until the warm, aromatic water is draining the tension from his muscles that Akira can truly reflect back on what a roller coaster the past.. day? Maybe more. However long, has been. There hasn't been a true moment of calm since before they entered the casino, intending to kick off their plan. It's been even longer since he's slept—a fact he's only realizing now, arms crossed over the edge of the bath, head pillowed on top.

Maybe he'll close his eyes for just a moment... ]

v. wildcard

( Got something else in mind or want to plot out a specific meeting? Hit me up via a PM, at lunar#0512, or at decimate. Happy to do some quest stuff and/or write out specific starters, too! )

@grakraka

[scaling]

[ It's natural that some exploration would lead him to one of the bonfires (in this case, the Eastern), drawn in by the sounds of merriment and cheers. At first, he hovers near the outskirts of the festivities, simply observing the culture. The more enthusiastic participants, however, seem all too happy to draw in bystanders, offering both food and the opportunity to leap through the flames.

Honestly, as thrilling as the latter sounds, the mention of food reminds Akira that it's been quite a while since the last time he ate. He may not be fully convinced that this isn't just some weird afterlife, despite the explanations given back at the Coven, but that doesn't quell the rumbling of his stomach at the variety of appetizing smells in the vicinity.

So he allows himself to be steered to one of the benches surrounding the fire, just far enough from the roaring flames to not be too stifling in the already warm nighttime air. Sure enough, the food follows not too long after, although the delivery of the frothy drink and spiced cakes is accompanied by another presence being ushered into the open space beside him with urges to "share in the spirit of the season!" Akira doesn't mind splitting with a stranger, especially when the food is free, so he turns to greet the new arrival—

And winds up looking into a familiar face that triggers the most intense sense of deja vu. Even that sensation doesn't stop him from tensing up. ]

—Akechi?

[grakraka]

[Considering how hungry he is, he doesn't protest being shoved around to pair up with people to eat. The weird obsession everyone here has with pairs doesn't escape his notice but he brushes it off for now. All that really matters is that he learn how things work and how to exist within those rules. If pairing up gets him free food, fine by him.

Less fine is the person. It hasn't actually been that long since he saw him, either—in the dream and in life. He blinks—only one eye can be seen given the bandage covering the left—and hesitates before nodding.

What a stupid reaction. Why can't he ever just have a normal reaction? Fuck.]

Ah... Hello once again.

[Ah, that sounded stupid, too. Now that he is less certain that he'll be dying soon, he actually has to put some extra thought into what he says.]

It seems fate continues to meddle in our affairs.

[Better.]

[scaling]

[ That does seem to be the case. Akira might find humor in how typical of a comment that is, despite the wild circumstances they've found themselves in (both garbed in Coven-provided robes, sporting bandages and bruises, worlds away from home), if not for the fuzziness at the edges of his mind.

A memory emerges, like static on a television giving away to picture: an unsettlingly different version of Akechi that claimed to be dead, the mischievous fairy, being attached at the hand. The clarity tapers off as he tries to trace it backwards, fizzling out around the point of a finger writing characters into his palm.

The hand that isn't holding onto the drink comes up to rub at his temple briefly, chasing away the last of the feeling. ]

... It wasn't just a dream, was it?

[ Being drawn into the Velvet Room in his sleep time and time again has given him the sense that sometimes what seems like a dream can still leave its mark on reality. ]

[grakraka]

[Akechi watches him recall it with a curious expression before he gives a soft laugh. Well, he could lie about it but he supposes there isn't much of a point in that for now. It might lead to questions but he doesn't have to answer anything if he doesn't feel like it.

Besides, if they all experienced that, Akira will just find out he lied much sooner rather than later and that would be a pain.]

Unfortunately. [He would have much preferred if it had been just that.] I'm glad you didn't wind up stuck as a fairy's pet, though.

[scaling]

[ Well, the implications that come along with that confirmation are rather heavy—not to mention, Akira's once again saddled with all of the questions left at the end of their previous meeting, now that the memory has been rekindled.

So here he is, once again, alongside this version of Akechi that claims to no longer want to kill him. At least he can be sure that, even if it's a lie, he doesn't have to worry for his safety in a large crowd like this. That doesn't seem to be Akechi's way of doing things.

The tension in his shoulders wanes slightly, and he allows himself to pick up one of the small cakes. ]

I think you were more in danger of that than me. They seemed to like that scary face of yours.

wildcard! let me know if this works!

[interlucere]

[ No matter how far from home they might be, some things still remain the same. Sickness is in some ways far easier to deal with than battle wounds, but in others much more heartbreaking. One could argue that their soldiers knew what they were getting into when they agreed to fight for the safety of their nation, but illness comes swiftly and unexpectedly. It's a beast that Lux doesn't quite know how to deal with.

She knows death—but not like this.

How long has she been sitting at this particular patient's bedside? She's lost track of time. It could be two hours, it could be two days; but with all of the unknowns swirling around them, holding this old man's hand as he fights a war within himself keeps her grounded. She needs to be needed or she might just go crazy.

Hearing someone walk into the infirmary, Lux looks up with tired eyes, a mask obscuring any sort of expression worn on her face. ]

Are you one of his relatives? Can I help you?

[ They don't look like they could be related, but she doesn't want to assume. ]

this is great, thanks!!

[scaling]

[ With a new world comes much to learn, and he's not surprised to find this one embroiled in turmoil of its own. The threat of the Cwyld is more overt and pressing than any of the issues faced back at home—sure, criminals and corruption were featured on the news often, but it's nothing compared to the danger of a magical plague that has to be kept at bay with the massive wall that they've erected around the city.

It's not something he's equipped to deal with the way he is with crime (although, is that even the case anymore, without the Metaverse?), but Akira, being Akira, finds himself offering to assist those beyond the wall. There are some things he can do—like administering medicine, his current task. He's no doctor, but he's patched up enough wounds and popped enough pills that this is simple work.

He's momentarily struck by the sickly smell in the air upon entering the infirmary. It's more concentrated than out in the streets of the Outer City, noticeable even through the mask. But before he can take in much more than that, a voice is catching Akira's attention, and he finds its owner sitting alongside a bed near the door. ]

Ah... here to help, actually. [ The bag of medication is lifted into sight as a means of explanation.

And, well, this seems like a good enough place to start. He approaches the patient's bedside, opposite the woman clasping his hand, and lets his eyes linger on the black marks that mar the skin of his forearm. ]

An acquaintance of yours?

[interlucere]

[ Her tired smile mostly obscured by the mask, it catches in her eyes as she slowly releases the patient's hand; placing it gently at his side. She stands, her gaze slipping back at Akira's question, focusing on the space between herself and the old man. Lux shakes her head. ]

We've never met.

[ Formally, at least. She realizes how weird that sounds, and after briefly pressing her lips together in thought, she continues: ]

I was told thay he hasn't had anyone visit in quite some time. I thought it might lift his spirits to have someone keep him company.

[ It's sad, and his prognosis is grim. The last thing she wants is for someone to feel lonely at a time like this. Moving out of the way, she gives Akira space to do what he needs to. ]

Did you need help with that?

[scaling]

[ It's unexpected, but not necessarily strange. Akira's experienced a lot of kindness since arriving here, especially from the Coven. Taking in such a large group of newcomers on such short notice and providing them with clothing and housing is no small order, but they rose to the occasion. ]

That's kind of you. [ And he's setting the bag on the edge of the bag to dig through it, although Akira soon pauses mid-search to study the patient.

On second glance, it's worse than he thought. More patches of black peek out from the edges of his clothes, and the look in the man's eyes is distant, like hes not completely present. He hasn't even given any indication that he's aware of Akira's presence.

So he pulls out a vial of medication, along with a syringe. ]

Can you hold his arm? [ The more advanced the infection, the more unpredictable their behavior may be, or so he'd been told. ]

[interlucere]

I'm used to this kind of thing.

[ Her eyes center on the bag at the foot of the bed as Lux watches him rummage through supplies. It's easier to watch him work than it is to observe their patient at this angle. Truthfully, she's been avoiding watching him too closely. That vacant look in his eyes brings back bad memories.

It's not like sitting with soldiers with broken bodies, but people with broken minds, and that strikes too close to home.

Doing as she's told, she dutifully rolls up the old man's sleeve before bracing his arm with both hands. Her gaze flicks toward the syringe then immediately pulls away; and she presses her lips together tightly. ]

Alright, go ahead.

[ Please, be quick. ]

iii

[atsumoribiito]

Hoh...?

[It's a little funny at first, watching the kid struggle with an overzealous automatic broom. Nobunaga would be lying if she ever claims she doesn't crack a smile, even. But after the enthusiastic sweeper gets more persistent, well...

She sighs and steps over, short enough that the broomstick easily swipes over her head when it tries to tame the stranger's hair again.]

Hold it, lemme just...

[In one easy motion she tugs the large hat off her head and, with a little hop on her part, plops it onto this guy's messy head of hair. Satisfied, she looks up at the broom expectantly.]

Happy now?

[scaling]

[ The sudden drop of a hat atop his head seems to do the trick. Out of sight, out of mind—although how that works with an animated broom... who even knows. With his apparently offensive hair covered, the broom rights itself on the floor again and brushes away, probably off to find its next victim.

Akira watches its retreat for a moment before looking down at this apparently kind passerby. ]

Thanks for that. I was starting to think I might have to fight a broom. [ The Witches here seem nice and all, but he's not sure how kindly they'd take to one of their magic servants being snapped in half. ]

[atsumoribiito]

You betcha. Those splinters would have been hell. [She's serious. At least a little, judging by the thoughtful expression crossing her face.]

Might find out sooner or later, though, if we're stuck here for a while.

[She frowns a little at the notion, both because it'd be nice to go home, and it'd be nice to, you know, get her hat back without him getting attacked by cleaning implements.]

You think these witches know any magic hair tricks?

[scaling]

[ She brings up a good point. Akira reaches up to adjust the hat on his head; her little jump to deposit it on his head had left it a little off-kilter. ]

I'm not sure even magic could tame it... [ The delivery is solemn as he recalls many past attempts to make it lay flat.

And besides, he's grown kind of fond of it as is! ]

Maybe they can tell the brooms to make an exception for me. [ Or he can invest in a hat of his own. ... Once he has money, that is. He's pretty sure they won't accept his yen. ]

[atsumoribiito]

If they can make them sweep like this...

[Nobu scratches her chin thoughtfully, eyeing the nearest of the brooms moving by on its own. A fascinating mechanism, really... she'd have to ask some of these Witches about how they managed it sooner or later.]

Well, I'm sure they have ways to work around it!

[Hopefully. It'd be a pain if this kid really did have to find workarounds every time he came back in the building. At least, assuming they're gonna be stuck there for a while.]

Hmm... maybe a back door in the meantime? You can't be the first to have this problem though... yeah?

wildcard (let me know if this doesn't work!)

[oceanschild]

[After the festivities are over, life goes on for all the locals- but for the newcomers, it's an attempted adjustment period. Paris had not been in a position previously where he was thinking any any sort of job, but it became very obvious very quickly that all the rules have changed here. Trying to get a job is almost something normal, and a tavern? He didn't often visit the one in the village back home, but it was more familiar than much of the rest of this place.

Of course, in a manner, Paris might be the worst person to put into this kind of position. He's diligent and hard working, certainly, but he has absolutely no ability to stand up to customers or... anyone, really. So when a very, very drunk man starts screaming at him for nothing in particular, he just stands there and takes it-- and when screaming turns to grabbing the front of his shirt, he doesn't move.]

this is excellent, thank you!

[scaling]

[ On the other end of things, finding a part-time job is a step back into a sense of normalcy for Akira. There's no school, no Phantom Thieves, and so just about the only thing left to lean on is putting himself to work and finding out more about the city in the process. The tavern seems like an appropriate enough place to start. He gets to hear snippets of plenty of conversation, gleaning the attitudes and culture of the townspeople.

The clientele are, however, a bit rowdier than the crowd he's used to back at the bar he used to work for. It's not uncommon to hear a loud argument, Akira quickly learns, nor is it unheard of for fights to break out the later it gets. The barkeep usually breaks it up with a little muscle, and the night continues on.

So he's not exactly startled when loud speech gives way to shouting a couple of tables over. What's troubling is finding another member of the waitstaff on the receiving end, putting up no fight against the hand fisted in his shirt. For some reason, the customer only seems more enraged by the lack of response; sharp eyes catch on the tight clench of his other hand, as if edging towards the point of violence.

Without a second thought, Akira navigates the tables between until he's approaching the altercation. He's far from cutting an imposing figure, unassuming as he is, but there's a sharp, steady quality to his voice that only really comes out when he's working from behind his mask. ]

Let him go.

[oceanschild]

[Both the man and Paris look over at Akira when he speaks; he might not look imposing, but the tone of his voice is difficult to ignore. The man growls, his grip just tightening on the young man's shirt initially, but either the barkeep is making eyes at him from behind the counter or he detects something in Akira that he doesn't want to mess with because he drops the grip, growling deep in his throat before stalking off.

Paris blinks after him, before looking back at his would be rescuer, clearly deeply and profoundly confused.] I... thank you. Why did you do that?

[The man could have just turned his temper on Akira, after all. Surely there was no reason for him to risk himself like that...?]

[scaling]

[ Historically, sticking his nose into situations like this doesn't end well for Akira. His interruption redirects the man's ire, and he readies himself to have to block a punch—but the customer's gaze drifts to some point over his shoulder, towards the bar, and suddenly the encounter is over.

Akira watches him storm off before stealing a glance begins (the barkeep gives him a nod and then carries on with his work, and eventually his attention lands on his coworker. ]

You looked like you needed a hand. [ Like it's that simple. And it really is, as far as Akira is concerned. The potential consequences barely crossed his mind.

There's a beat before he continues. ]

Paris, right? [ They've yet to have a proper conversation before now, but Akira is the type to pick up on details. ] Are you okay?

[oceanschild]

[That might be the simple, straightforward answer, but it clearly doesn't answer all of the questions Paris has. Because he is very much not used to near strangers sticking up for him in almost any capacity; more often they do the opposite. So there's a moment where he's just staring at Akira like that is the strangest answer he could have possibly given before he realizes how rude he's being and shakes himself out of it.]

Sorry, I-- yes. I'm alright. Thank you. [And then after a pause.] ...He looked like he was going to hit you.

i!

[lifespanned]

[ Misa, if anything, is an opportunist. She's feeling wildly out of place, confused by the world around her, and most of all concerned because of the incriminating imagery carved into the mirror in front of her. That's why, when Akira speaks out to her, her immediate feeling is relief, and it shows plain on her face as she turns towards him - an opportunity immediately presented itself to assuage her fears. ]

Oh! I thought I was the only one... [ She puts on the friendliest tone she can, tilting her head so she can peer over at his mirror next to hers - and in fact does appear plain, completely unlike her's. ] So mine looks totally normal, huh?

[ Very convenient if true, for her. ]

[scaling]

[ So the assumption wasn't off-base. (Although, with the way his life has been recently, would it really have been that surprising if his own were inexplicably different from everyone else's?)

Akira looks from the woman to the mirror before her, finding the pane framed with a completely nondescript design, and nods. ] Like all the others.

[ His expression turns vaguely thoughtful. Maybe there's some sort of trick to it? He steps closer to hers, trying to view it from less of a sidelong angle, but—nope, still the same. ]

[lifespanned]

[ Well... that's good news! In case anyone else from home shows up. Not that she can express as much to this person. She puts on her best confused but otherwise not-too-concerned expression, letting out a light laugh. ]

That is so weird... it must be some freaky illusion or trick! [ Judging by the way he's looking at her mirror, he must think the same, but she doesn't even attempt to take a gander at his. The evidence is clear enough. ] Maybe this is some sort of TV-set?

[ For a beat, she directs her attention to all the relative commotion surrounding the two of them, taking a step closer to him so she doesn't lose sight. Even if this is an extremely disorienting experience (and a bad one too, considering her abilities are very clearly gone), she retains her positive attitude. ]

This seems like a lot of people for some random shoot, though... you wouldn't happen to know any of those people, would you?

[scaling]

[ It's something, that's for sure. Just to be sure, Akira raises a hand to skirt fingertips over the frame of her mirror. Unfortunately, it feels exactly like it looks: plain and unadorned.

The mirror clearly has no intentions of showing its secrets to him, so he follows her gaze to the crowd of people. ] Not a very good set without any cameras or lights… [ Though, honestly, some of them look like they could be extras on a television shoot. There are definitely some individuals in this room who appear to be not entirely human.

But Akira knows whatever's happening here isn't that simple. ]

… Not that I can see. [ Unfortunately. ] Do you see anyone you know?