» the city network

( the video opens with aerith herself, tucked into an old arm chair; it looks like it could be in any of the apartments, but that's unlikely, given the bookshelves behind her, which appear to be more like the ones in the media store. still--she could be in any of the city's various cafes, it's hard to say.

case in point - there's a large book open, spread across her lap, though the words are hard to decipher from the video's resolution, and there's no hint of the title. )

Okay! ( bright and warm, as she leans forward, hands spread over the pages of the book. ) Today's story is a choose-your-own adventure, are you ready?

Ahem, ahem. ( her voice rises and falls in pitch, all full of dramatics. ) To start: you find yourself in a large clearing, full of green grass and well-tilled land. You can't remember how you arrived in this place, but even so...! You feel as though your hands must seek the dirt beneath your feet, as though you must start digging holes, holes for seeds, seeds which... Well.

( her fingers turn the page--and she lifts up a little packet from within the book, not unlike the ones from the cursed tea party, but this one clearly labeled with both pictures and text. some sort of root vegetable. bright orange. )

You find right there, at your fingertips. Now, the question is - out of all these seeds you find, what would you want to grow, and what would you never want to see in a garden, or worse, on your dinner plate?

--Okay, maybe this is less a choose-your-own-adventure and more a terrible marketing tactic. ( dropping the packet of seeds into the book, she pushes both sides of it closed with a snap--and a laugh. ) But I'm wondering what kind of fruits and vegetables are worth growing in my garden. I don't know that I trust the food here, so I want to start growing more things just in case, and...

Everyone has different tastes! So tell me a little bit about the food you like, or even flowers, and maybe I can make a special delivery in...you know, a few months once everything's growing. That's all from Gainsborough Greenery! ( she leans forward with a little wave, before her hand takes over the screen of her phone to cut the video. )

Anyone good at crossword puzzles? I've got a doozy of one I'm working on in the diner and could use some help.

[ Bit cryptic, but she doesn't want to put too much on the network. She can be found in the diner for face to face conversations. ]

( There is exposition here. )

[ Kaveh is definitely taking the phone at this point, but later on, Midnight will retrieve it and add a postscript. He is sitting in some sort of underground greenhouse this time, surrounded by mist, glass, flowers, and the glow of sun-tinted halogen lights. Regardless of the promo quality, the greenhouse itself is certainly an impressive feat of engineering. ]

Yes, this is one of several themed rooms here at Seventh Hell. You — yes, you — are personally invited to see it. When? Well, whenever you like, so long as the doors are open, but on the 31st of this month... Ahem.

[ He clears his throat, grins. ]

For the turn of the year, you are cordially invited to Seventh Hell's Grand Opening and New Year's Eve joint celebration. Or something like that, I'll come up with a grander name if necessary. There will be drinks, music, a tour of the premises, games, untold bliss, fantasies, beautiful women, beautiful men, myself among them, possibly fireworks if Kaveh can be convinced that I won't set the place ablaze... You won't want to miss out, I promise.

The doors will open at 6 pm, but come by anytime before then, from now until the New Year, if you'd like to enjoy the premises in relative solitude. Send a message to this account if you'd like to be assured of a bartender, or a friendly face to speak to. If I can't come personally, a host or hostess will be there, ready to welcome you to a night of merriment and pleasant conversation.

So, until then... Seventh Hell awaits you.

[ A wink, and the feed shuts off. ]

[ ooc: Along with normal network replies, current host club employees and staff are welcome and encouraged to reply to this post as though Midnight's included them in an impromptu promotion for the club! You can also use this post for post-promo, off camera conversations with him or anyone else in the host club. Go stupid, go wild, go crazy, threadjack, steal his phone and flush it down a toilet. Honestly, the sky is the limit. ]

"Christmas" this, "Christmas" that and I still haven't see anyone mention Krampusnoapte.

Shame.

Though I do wonder if they can even make it this far.

ho ho holy shit, it's december already, huh?

there's no kfc in this place but everyone, please eat your fried chicken responsibly this year~

actually, i come bearing a GREAT opportunity, and that is - are you worried whether you're on the nice or naughty list this year? don't worry, don't worry~

santa gojou is here ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

tell me the best and worth thing you've done since you've gotten to the city, and we'll figure out whether you're getting a nice shiny present or a nice shiny punishment for christmas (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

if you don't know what christmas is, don't worry, you'll still get judged!

(by the way, my birthday is in a few days, so i'll expect lots of gifts)

hey! so like
weird request
but is there anyone around that knows anything about sewing?

I guess I was sorta spoiled back home and could use some help with tailoring a jacket and some sweaters...

( Thank god the week is done, I feel like a zombie gone back to life... )

[ Sometimes later in the day than Ethan's announcement, and shortly after getting yelled at for COMPLETELY REASONABLE ACTIONS, the network updates with: ]

I'm not dead just let me sleep it off

[ Then, grumpily, Constantine pulls the covers over her head and attempts to go back to sleep. ]

---

[ ooc: Reactions welcome, threadjacking fine, Johanna's DMs open! ]

( ugh the fact that girl made her host this.... dorothea burn in hell or wherever it is you've gone. well, she's got a reputation to uphold, so she'll just use a different username for today... )

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ HAPPY HOLIDAYS ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's the twelfth month of the year, which only means one thing: Christmas. For those who don't know (poor things!), Christmas is a wonderful time of year where you come together with your family or other loved ones and exchange gifts, eat warm home-cooked food, and have a grand old merry time.

Since we're lacking in a couple of those things, we can do another fun little tradition that's pretty popular back home. People sign up, say what they like or dislike or whatever, and then someone else will get them a gift! Everyone's randomly assigned, so maybe you'll even end up making a new friend or two. Isn't that nice?

And maybe if you're all good little boys and girls and anything in-between, Santa himself will be the one to gift you your present this year. Hohoho.

Christmas is traditionally on the 25th day of the twelfth month, so that's when we'll be starting our gifting! There'll be a nice little place set up around and in City Hall for you to swing by and hand them or drop them off if you end up getting someone you don't know, or if you really don't want them to know you were their secret Santa... Let's make this a merry little month, shall we? It's been a whole half year since the first of those unlucky louts showed up, after all! Poor guys.

If there's any fun little winter activities any of you do during this time too, why not share them? Could be fun to have a few extra things to stave off the boredom between the day-changing occurrences that happen every few weeks in this city.

( and attached to this post is a form. go ahead and look at the info post, sign up if you want, and have fun. )

[ Not long after getting to the Welcome Diner and gathering his thoughts, he flips on the device to begin what will surely be one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. He hasn't bothered to clean himself up much but, with Daniel's help, he probably doesn't look like a serial killer anymore. Still, it's obvious the man has been through hell. ]

My name is Ethan Chandler. I-- [ He swallows, then begins again. ]

Last night, something wicked prowled through the streets and attacked several residents. It was me. I don't look as I did last evening and, despite what I said, I can't recall who I encountered or what events took place. I change, you see, when the moon is full. I can't control myself; God knows I've tried.

[ He lets out a sharp exhale, grimacing when it aggravates some of his injuries, but powers through. ]

Ever since my arrival, I've done what I could to make sure I couldn't hurt anyone, taken precautionary measures to restrain myself so this wouldn't happen. But it did. Something happened last night, and I made a mistake that put people here in harm's way. The blame rests entirely upon my shoulders and mine alone.

I'm not deserving of your forgiveness, but I'll ask for it. If you encountered the wolf last evening, please, reach out to me here. The phones are impersonal and I would prefer to extend my apology in person, to look you in the eye when I give it.

[ Now, to another pressing matter: ]

Mr. Gray and Miss Ives were present before and after what happened. I can't contact either one of them. I've tried.

Good evening, dear City. Lestat here.

As I'm sure many of you are aware, the upcoming Sunlight at Midnight Black Tie Gala is fast approaching. It should be a fabulous evening and a perfect opportunity for those of us who enjoy a little get-together to do as the saying suggests and get together. Dates aren't mandatory, I'm sure, but there is one person on the guest list who absolutely cannot attend alone; its very organizer, Ghost.

( Read more... )

well well
i admit after all the other ways this place has seen fit to censor its wares, i didn't have particularly high hopes for this "media store" archive
but i suppose i ought to have balanced that with how it likes to taunt us with the familiar even more

whoever would have thought a copy of "heavensward" would find its way to these very shelves?
i'm sure the count de fortemps would be delighted to know his memoirs are so popular
and the songs of that wandering minstrel, as well
"requiem for a hero" isn't one i'm exactly partial to but i can't deny its popularity

i rather wonder if i ought to write out my own account of the goings-on from back home while i'm here
far from the watchful eyes of the forum and their cover-ups

not that the skies turned to fire, the seas to blood, and the transformation of unsuspecting innocents into craven blasphemies is my idea of an entertaining read, mind

but neither was the dragonsong war i suppose and yet here it sits
a bestseller for the ages regardless

You'd think that when the bookshop opens there'd be books on history or something...

[He wanted to start the camera to record, but he did it a bit earlier than he planned so his mutter of utter dissatisfaction is captured as well. Well, it's more than that- at this point, he feels tired of this game of cat and mouse where they chase for information but never get anything.

But he doesn't spill these thoughts out and instead offers a wide smile (now that he's ready) and waves at the camera!]

Hey there! My name's Dorian, Dorian Storm- I-I have a question. [He picks up one of the VHS tapes and CDs and holds them up-] I know this place isn't eager to share anything about itself, but I thought to ask- are things recorded on this, well, real? How REAL is it? Is it recorded with things like we use right now?

Because I never saw THIS [he shakes the VHS tape and CDs again,] pop up from the device we have after recording. Or maybe I'm doing something wrong... [And then there's a lot of shuffling, blurred image, briefly going black, then back on and captures Dorian plopping down on one of the seats inside that Media Store.]

There's also that weird not haunted, but kinda haunted, but not- dorm room. I am not sure if we should stay there. [The camera turns as Dorian flips the device to shut it off, recording the floor for a moment.] This place made me so paranoid-- [is the last thing video catches.]

[ The video turns on displaying one of the apartment building living spaces. For the most part it looks like the typical default space, but in the background there's a low table containing incense burners and what are probably offerings. The structure sitting behind it also looks like a shrine... a very small one, but made with loving detail. The lighting is intentionally dim, and Abe no Seimei is kneeling in front of the arrangement next to a black cat that is likely familiar to some in the city. ]

Since we've been facing some unanswered mysteries lately, I thought we should conduct a ritual to try to get some answers. The preparations are all complete if anyone would like to participate in the Offering Game.

[ As he says that, he lights several candles and places them around the cat in front of him. Once the cat, seated on what looks like a cushion on top of an array is properly surrounded, he asks: ]

Are you ready?

[ The cat, for it's part, stares at the lit candles and then snaps it's head around to shoot a look at Seimei that somehow seems deeply betrayed. Apparently, this was not part of the original plan. The only thing audible is a rumbled, plaintive meow, but Seimei nods as in in perfect understanding.

Answer received, Seimei claps his hands together two times and recites what might be a chant, but the words are difficult to make out over the device. Technical difficulties? The candles flicker, then abruptly seem to gain strength as they cast an ominous massive cat-like monster shadow behind the form of the housecat. ]

We are ready. In exchange for a personal story, we can now trade one offering to this great spirit and receive a fortune! But beware, we don't know what kind of answer the unknown may offer us. But if you would like to play, answers do await.

[ Seimei bows once to the cat and once to the camera. The cat stares at the camera for a long, unblinking moment before letting out a sigh that seems to shift it's entire body. There's another, brighter flash that seems to take up the entire screen for a second--the candles flaring?-- but when it clears, the actual cat is gone and all that remains is the shadow creature.

Though the close listener might hear something that sounds like a mumbled hate you so much coming from somewhere off screen. ]


[ooc: Both Seimei and Kai will be replying to this post to play a dumb creepypasta game and discuss possibly real magic.]

[Although she's still wary about the mall based on her first experience with it, Bulla has a renewed sense of optimism. She now has a purpose to brave that place and make sure it's safe to go there.]

Hi everyone! With the Sunlight at Midnight Gala coming up, I wanted to offer my help as a fashion consultant.

[Really, she just wants shopping buddies, but she's quite willing to be helpful about it.]

We can go shopping and I can help you put together a formal outfit you'll look amazing in! Looking good is always a great mood booster, right?

[Or so she believes.]

Plus if there's a special someone you're planning to ask to go to the gala with you, you can be sure you'll look your best.

[The feed opens up to Hythlodaeus on his couch, a small pile of fabric beside him. While his mask ever remains hanging around his neck (an attempt to blend his own culture with the world he's slowly coming to learn about), he's wearing a simple--if oversized--sweater made of a soft fabric. Thankfully nothing near as terrible as the plaid abomination he wore at Don Quixote's party some months ago.]

I've a few questions for you all, if you would indulge me--though nothing nearly as philosophical as the last question I posed here, I assure you. Rather, with the gala coming up I thought it best to try and clear up some confusion I had beforehand.

One: is there a difference between a "sweater" and a "jumper?"

Two. With regards to these "leggings," does one wear them on their own, or are they part of a greater ensemble? They seem awfully thin compared to most of the leg coverings I've seen.

Three, while I can see the raised heel on some hupodema as a method of bringing attention to the shape of one's leg, I've seen a fair few where the entirety of the sole is raised. Is there a reason behind this beyond adding to one's height?

And four, which I am entirely baffled on...

[He picks up the piece of clothing beside him, revealing a pair of pants he could only have pulled out of a generic-brand Hot Topic.]

What in the world are these supposed to be worn with and what are all the belts and chains for?


((Feel free to threadjack as you please throughout if your character has any controversial fashion opinions!))

[ you know her. you don't know her. you will know her, soon enough.

miss don quixote, brightly beaming, is not alone today. she has with her... three young men sat with various levels of comfort on a couch, all dressed in somewhat matching holiday sweaters.

only somewhat. herself? a normal cozy cream-colored one with cat paws trailing from one shoulder down. normal. she loves her friends, promise. ]

Salutations!!! Prithee, turn thy gaze, open thine ears, and pay mind to what this Don Quixote has to say! For two more of my coworkers hath arrived, and thus the Limbus Company is four strong!!! In addition to our stern boss, of course!!! I shall presently introduce the three here with some questions I have thus prepared.

[ let her... here is here notebook, dolled up with stickers. aHem. ]

From left to right, as well as answering order [ , hello? one of them has an issue with that-- ] is Emil Sinclair, Yi Sang, and Hong Lu. Young Sinclair is one who shall be more familiar to others by face or mention, as we arrived together so long ago... but they are all precious companions of mine.

Let us begin! What is thy favorite color?

[ okay. okay! this is easier than the first company introduction he did, for various reasons. not that he still isn't obviously a mild kind of timid about the whole thing, even as he attempts to. you know, not let that show. look, He's Trying. ]

Favorite... I don't think about it much, but. Blue. Green, maybe? Or... No, blue and green.

[ should he add more? reasoning? or pick ONE? ]

They're both calming. Like thinking about a sunny day. [ nodding, before he- looks around. help. ] Um. Do I need to say more than that?

[ he's nailing this? why didn't he go last so he could get an "average response length" reference? ]

[ because you have to go first and get over yourself, sinclair, lead the way as the senior to these two newbies-- ]

Nay, that is quite alright! I think thy reasoning is sound enough, Young Sinclair.

[ That's... not really something he's thought about. He'd all but forgotten what colors existed outside of sepia. There'd been no such thing as a "favorite color" in T Corp.'s domain, not when T. Corp. ensured everything was the same color within its borders.

But T Corp. is behind him, and his now properly-functioning photoreceptors allow him to contemplate answers other than that muted sepia. It doesn't quite solve the fact that he's not used to having things like favorites or preferences, but he'd like to offer a proper response.

He wracks his brain, sorting through every single color he can recall until --

Ah. Of course. That would have to be his answer. ]

Yellow.

[ ...no, that's not quite right. The word doesn't fully capture the exact shade he's visualizing.

He thinks of the spicebush flowers, efflorescing from ideal soil. He thinks of the way their soft petals catch the spring sunlight, glowing radiant underneath the rays. He thinks of the way they burst into season, blanketing the hills in gold.

Yi Sang prepares to repeat those thoughts, but instead of voicing them, he stops. ...perhaps it is best to leave it there. The color of those flowers -- it's something for him to remember, for him to hold close.

So he nods, deciding that one word is sufficient after all. ]

...yellow. That would be my ideal color.

Hello~ My name's Hong Lu. I hope we can get along well together.

[ the carefree flicker of a little wave of hong lu's hand, ]

I really like the colour of Don's sweater~ If I had to describe it, it's the colour of putting your face into the fur of a cat, but only if the cat doesn't run away.

Charming, are they not?! Now, thy favorite foods!

[ this is the part where he could lie and say he's not picky, but he is, even if it's less so now. there's a moment of thought, and then a rather sure: ]

Sauerbraten.

[ ... ]

It's not really about the taste... Not that it isn't good. But it's more about the memories, which is probably for the best... I remember it taking a while, so I don't think I could make it now, even if I wanted to.

[ He's never been particularly picky with food. Residents of the Backstreets were accustomed to eating whatever they could get their hands on. Yi Sang is no different. He's perfectly content to snack on anything that's edible.

Perhaps the question should be approached from a different angle. There's no need to limit himself to foods that aren't downright offensive to his taste buds.

It would take far too long to sort through that list.

Instead, a memory rises and breaks the surface tension within his head:

Three children sit in a field, one of them clutching a woven basket. It holds a few round items wrapped in cloth. She takes one in each hand, offering them to both boys at her sides. "Here," she says. "I got these for us. Don't tell anyone though. I'm only giving them to both of you because you're my favorites out of everyone."

Her companions take their respective offerings. Whatever it is, it's warm to the touch. The boy with glasses picks at the cloth, unwrapping it with care in his lap. The other, quieter boy does the same until the hidden item is revealed.

"Baked potatoes? You got this excited over baked potatoes?" the boy with glasses laughs.

The girl sitting between them scowls and goes a bit red in the face. "Just shut up and eat it, okay? Do you know how expensive these were?"

The third child simply observes, clutching his cooling potato. The other boy and the girl will stop bickering soon enough. Despite the argument unfolding before him, he smiles because he knows they'll laugh it all off eventually and enjoy their snack together.

Yes, that's how things had always resolved. It had been so easy then.

Yi Sang blinks. ]

...could you repeat your question?

[ oh, he seems a tad distracted. don tilts her head, but smiles brightly and nods. ]

Most certainly!!! Thy favorite food, Yi Sang!

[ Oh. Yes, that's right.

He glances down at his palm. It's empty, but there's a warmth lingering within it. ]

My favorite food?

[ Would they taste the same as the ones back then? ]

A potato cooked over an open flame; such is my answer. ...I shall have to procure some, enough to share with everyone else.

Mm, if I had to pick a favourite food... A cup of tea is a must after a greasy meal, right?

[ hong lu beams. ]

I was thinking that I didn't recognise any of the teas here. I wonder how long they're aged for, or if they're hand-picked. I prefer tea that's at least three hundred years old myself. That reminds me, is water supposed to burn? It really hurt this morning when the water in my pot exploded. Who knew that water could fight back? Eheh.

Have thee any dreams for the future? Be it in the near future or farther off, do tell!

Mm...

[ he hasn't- thought about any short term ones, honestly. at least not any he- wants to voice aloud. long term is- nda. just, nda. ]

Is a goal okay...?

[ wait. considering what he wants to answer with, that's- not a great lead up. he straightens up. ]

I-I'll answer with it anyway. I want to be a more confident, more certain person. I don't think I could've answered questions like this before, so maybe I'm doing a little better already.

[ he continues to really nail this. ]

[ There was a time when he could confidently respond with, "None." Things like "hopes" and "dreams" were for those capable of visualizing a future. But to say that he continued to lack any aspirations doesn't feel quite right anymore.

Yi Sang finds himself grasping for an answer. The options materialize in reflective shards, different choices displayed upon each one's surfaces. Perhaps those dreams had existed all along, and he simply hadn't possessed the desire to look closely enough at any of them.

He sifts through all the possible responses. He doesn't think any of them are particularly grand, and many of them are blurry, as though despite clearly existing they had yet to take proper shape.

Eventually, he finds there is an answer he can latch onto. ]

I think... I should like to build a stable one day.

[ He's never done it before, and it's been awhile since he'd designed anything that resembled a building. On the other hand, that doesn't mean it can't be done. ]

It would not need to be particularly elaborate. So long as it is a comfortable home for one calf, that would be ideal. I would ensure its access to plenty of hay and clover for it to graze at its leisure.

[ Yi Sang pauses, visualizing the stable and allowing the fragment to sharpen into better focus. What else should it contain to ensure its future resident's happiness? None of his current expertise touched on veterinary care. Surely, there would be someone who could assist him?

After all, it takes a village of at least three to care for a calf properly. ]

To have a fun time, right? I don't think that far into the future, though~

[ hong lu's head tilts must in the way of a thoughtful cat, ]

Yi Sang, by the way, what does it mean if you dream about a shark in a coffin? Do you think that's a lucky symbol?

[ Yi Sang makes a thoughtful sound and crosses his arms over his chest. Others might have dismissed Hong Lu's question as absurd musings, but Yi Sang's always taken Hong Lu's inquiries seriously.

Yi Sang always takes everyone's questions seriously. ]

A coffin is closely associated with death. But that "death" does not necessarily mean a demise. It may symbolize a change, a new path revealing itself to the dreamer. For instance, Hong Lu, you may recall how it is said that the ashes of a fallen phoenix will form a nest for its reborn self's egg.

[ The coffin is the easy part. A pensive frown settles on his face. ]

Within this dream, does the shark yet live? Has it ceased in its struggles to breathe, transplanted from the sea to the land? Perhaps the dreamer has imagined a shark with lungs, molding the creature within their thoughts to avoid inflicting unnecessary cruelty upon it. And thus, it is left to the dreamer to determine the shark's purpose. An ill omen of challenges ahead, perhaps, due to a shark's reputation as a formidable foe. Yet others would perceive the creature as a protector of the sea, prepared to defend the dreamer with all its might.

[ Hong Lu, however, has asked what a combination of those two items might mean. Another thoughtful sound escapes from Yi Sang. ]

Indeed, such a dream may be a lucky symbol. It is within the realm of possibilities. Yet, it is equally as likely that one may interpret the shark within the coffin as a harbinger of misfortune.

[ ...did that answer the question? ]

Now, a slightly more difficult one: If thee had the choice to live blissfully unaware of a fact that had the chance to detract from thy current happiness as much as it could increase it, would thee remain purposefully unaware or confront it?

... Why is this so different from the other ones?

[ can he ask that? he's asking. forget nailing anything, the look he gives here makes it absolutely clear he's wondering why these questions are escalating so quickly.

but he presses his lips together, swallows back his urge to sigh, and answers anyway. certain and true: ]

Confront. I would confront it. I don't want to live in ignorance, and look away from what scares me. I think... even if I was a little less happy in the end, knowing that I walked without running away would make me feel more... [ how could he describe it... ] More.

[ he's not sure how to explain it without thinking on it, ruminating, but no one's going to sit here and wait for emil sinclair to go through ten anxious paragraphs. he'll leave it at that. ]

[ This is quite a different question compared to the earlier ones.

Because it's quite different, it's much easier to answer. ]

Whether that fact would bring me additional happiness, or whether it would saddle me with new sorrows -- I... do not believe those outcomes affect my answer to that hypothetical. Favorable or not, I would confront it.

[ It's not a matter of being blissfully oblivious or bold enough to wager more out of one's life. No, it's much more straightforward than that. Hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't close his eyes anymore or turn from the world around him? ]

...I simply wish to live with my eyes open now. That is all.

[ Even if that information introduces harm, it is best to confront it in earnest. And if that information proves to be distressing, well, that's what one's companions are for, isn't it? If the weight of that information is too much to bear, and if holding it with his own hands risks shattering them into pieces, surely someone will reach out to support that weight? And if not, surely there will be someone to assist in plucking the broken pieces off the floor, to help with reassembling the fragments of himself?

Perhaps in the past, those musings would remain as questions. Nowadays, the question marks are replaced with periods. ]

Hmm...

[ hong lu hums; the cyan of his one blue eye glimmers. he says: ]

Does it matter, though? Life will always go on, even if what you're doing right now doesn't work out, so as long as you remember that, you'll be free of worries. So it doesn't matter if I know about it or not, I'll always be okay~

[ hong lu's neck cranes over, ]

Ah, Don, is this what they call 'food for thought'? Is this what commoners do to fill their stomachs when there isn't enough to eat?

And it works wonders, truly! One cannot feel hunger if they are debating the very fundamentals of life, and putting to thought their companion's answers. It has staved off the pangs quite well in my experience.

[ what good answers she certainly expected from her companions, two of whom have faced themselves and one who has not. of course, don... wouldn't turn from something either, depending on what it is, but we haven't the time to unpack that right now. ]

Don't look so nervous, Young Sinclair! Lastly, thy favorite hobbies!

[ was he TENSING slightly before the question came out thinking it would be something increasingly unhinged like WORST REGRET or THE TROLLEY PROBLEM or- yes. but the question comes out, and he visibly relaxes. ]

Thank goodness.

[ oh. did he say that out loud? ]

I mean... R-reading and drawing. I've gotten to writing, here, and that helps me sort out my thoughts... I think I just like doing quieter activities that help me think, or relax. But I wouldn't mind trying other things I haven't done too.

[ There are a few activities he enjoys in his spare time. Namely -- ]

Observing Sinclair and Don Quixote's chess games. They are... rather spirited when competing against one another. It is good to see them engaged in an activity.

[ Some might disagree that spectating his colleagues' chess games counts as a hobby, but it counts to him. Yi Sang enjoys watching both of them mapping out their moves, and he also finds himself feeling like a secret third participant. They do not know that he is not merely observing, but in fact, predicting what each of his colleagues' next moves might be.

Sinclair's strategies are easier to discern not because they are simple, but because they are proper. There's a certain elegance to his decision-making, even if he is slower to move compared to Don Quixote. Each choice is deliberate, seeking to corner Don's king before ruthlessly pursuing checkmate.

Don Quixote's moves are more challenging for Yi Sang to anticipate. In each of Sinclair's moves, there is always a sensible means for her to respond. But instead of selecting one of those options, she continuously surprises Yi Sang by choosing something completely different.

...there are, however, times when observing those games inflicts agony to the point where it stops being a fun hobby.

It's during those moments he finds himself hovering over Don Quixote's shoulder, gently offering her pointers after she's lost more than half of her pieces to Sinclair. And despite trying to be discreet about it, Sinclair catches him whispering to her every single time. It's a game within a game.

He probably shouldn't be helping Don in those moments. But the longer the game goes on, the more time he gets to spend witnessing his colleagues' moment of camaraderie. Allowing Sinclair to claim victory too swiftly means less time spent observing them having fun.

Maybe he'll ask to join in next time, requesting a match against the winner of their future game.

...which will probably be Sinclair. Yes. Definitely Sinclair. ]

I like seeing new sights, and doing new things. Can you have a hobby that's always changing?

[ hong lu folds his hands behind him, prim, much as if a child on a field trip; ]

Regardless, I hope to meet everyone here, and have lots of fun~

[ don turns the video back to herself and beams. ]

And that shall do for proper introductions! I ask that thee treat them as well as one may myself, and get to know each on thine own time as well as now as I have them held agai... kehm, that is, with their permissions for the evening.

[ and that'll do for that lengthy segment! off it goes, boys are freed, she is freed, now she just has to wait for all the friendship applications to roll in.

... did she not mention that's what this was for? oh well. ]

[ ooc: responses will come from everyone!!! this is all just for a bit of fun, go wild with it; click the questions for responses! ]

★★★

( [Separate Posting: HELP WANTED] )

[ For a good while, all anyone's going to see is the cityscape of the second district. There's clear movement as the scene seems to move and shake with what seems to be the sounds of footsteps in the background. ]

Hello? Hi, my name is—oh no, the video is on backward, uh—

[ There is a small pause, and after much tinkering, the feed switches over to the front camera. Crisis adverted? On the screen is a teenage girl, looking barely legal with a strange hairstyle. She has on a pretty friendly smile, with all things considered, and doesn't seem entirely too distraught. ]

—there we go! Hello again, sorry for the trouble! My name is Usagi Tsukino and I'm new to the city. So far, I've found a place to live, I think, and I'm just trying to familiarize myself with the place so it's easier to navigate.

[ She looks pensive for a moment. ]

Or perhaps more information on the place? How do things work around here? Anything is fine. [ She pauses for a moment. ] Oh, maybe a place to get food? I haven't seen anywhere that resembles a restaurant where I am, but I'm not entirely sure.

Sorry for all the questions, and thank you for your time!

[ The video feed switches off, but it seems like she somehow didn't close the voice transmission along with the video. ]

Okay...where am I, ooooh, I could really go for a large banana split sundae right about now...where does a girl get some ice cream around here?

...wait, didn't I walk past that place earlier? Huh? Why is this still on? Oh no.....!

[ And the voice transmission cuts off here. ]

[When the video started, the camera was facing the wrong way.]

Oh! Oops.

[Noah was quick to realize it, at least, poking the screen until the camera changed to display his face. He was alive again but he was still pale, like he hadn't spent a day in the sun. Actually, he probably hadn't since arriving and finding himself in a living body. At least, not long enough to develop any sort of tan.]

Hey! Um.

[It was a little late to realize he wasn't entirely sure he knew what he wanted to say. He knew, but he didn't know. There was an important difference.]

Okay, so like- I think I'm starting to get the hang of things around here. The whole 'we take what we need and we don't have to pay for it' thing.

[It still felt a little like shoplifting...]

But- so, the apartment I picked doesn't have a bed. Is it a faux pas or whatever to just...take a bed from one of the others that no one's using? All the ones I looked at with a bed felt creepy...

[Don't ask him where he'd been sleeping. Actually, don't ask him if he'd been sleeping at all.]

I'd need some help, too, if kidnapping a bed isn't like- dishonor on your family, you know?

Also, this is probably a long shot, but does this place have a gelato parlor?